Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

E ster jumped, panic surging through her. For a brief moment, it was as though the darkly handsome Duke before her had become the leering Viscount Kingsley. She could barely believe her own ears. Molly was looking at the floor, hands clasped together as though trying to become invisible. Ester could not find words at first.

"Whatever can you mean?" she demanded.

The Duke did not look belligerent. In fact, he was not looking at her at all now. His blue eyes were fixed on the floor and he actually appeared… shame-faced?

Ester almost forgot she was standing before this man practically naked except for the thick dressing gown. The thick dressing gown that had probably clothed his naked body many times. That thought made her want to cast the garment aside and hug it tightly to her at the same time. She was suddenly acutely aware of her bare feet against the thick carpet. It was all far too intimate. She felt exposed. And both repelled and aroused by that notion.

"I mean that I cannot allow you to leave… just yet ," the Duke muttered, finally raising his eyes to hers, "until you have recovered fully."

That seemed reasonable, but it was not what he had originally said.

Ester frowned, taking unconscious steps away from him until the tall, wing-backed chair in which she had been sitting was between them. The Duke watched her intently and Ester felt undressed and caressed by those eyes. A most gorgeous sensation that made her knees tremble and sent surges of excitement through her stomach and beyond. She shook her head.

"I am sure that I will not catch a cold if I have not by now. I am dry and warm and unharmed—thanks to you, Your Grace," she stammered. "My family will be worried about me. They will be expecting me home."

"Really? And what errand did you tell them you were on this evening with so much gold?" the Duke asked.

Ester could not answer. How did the Duke know she had been carrying gold? Had it not gone with Kingsley's man?

"How do you know about that?" she demanded.

The Duke turned to Molly.

"Molly, go about your duties please," he firmly declared.

"No!" Ester cried.

Both turned to look at her sharply. Ester found herself breathing hard, panting almost. Fear gripped her. She could not be alone with this man. Or any man for that matter. Whether he was her savior or not. Whether he was handsome or not.

"It would not be appropriate for me to be alone with you in a state of undress," she quickly said.

The Duke looked abashed again, the degree of threat Ester felt from him dropping sharply. He looked like an embarrassed little boy in fact. He lowered his voice, eyes dancing to hers and then away.

"You may not wish my staff to hear all about what happened this evening," he said, quietly.

Ester was certain of that but more certain that she feared to be alone with him. Feared his intentions.

"Nevertheless, I should like her to stay… Your Grace," Ester added, fighting to keep her voice level and tears of panic from her eyes.

The Duke nodded. "Very well. Molly, sit over there."

She hurried to obey and Ester felt a moment's anger on behalf of the servant. It was possible to give instructions and even orders without being rude or perfunctory. A servant was still a human being, after all.

The Duke was taking a seat by the fire, opposite Ester's chair. He gestured for her to do likewise, revealing his gloves once again. Ester found her eyes drawn to them. When the Duke noticed her observation, he folded them atop his crossed legs, staring at her directly as though challenging her to ask. Ester moved around the chair and resumed her seat, perching on the edge.

"This has been a most curious evening," the Duke murmured, "I went out for my usual evening ride and foiled a robbery. Then saved a woman from drowning herself. I heard you running along the jetty. Surely, you knew what you were about?"

Ester raised her chin, not wanting to appear to cower before him.

"I was in a state of fear and… yes, no little shame for my predicament. I do not think I knew what I was doing…"

"Do you see though why I might be concerned? For your welfare and that of your soul?" the Duke said. "What if you were to leave here and return to your… original intention? I consider it my duty to prevent that."

"I can assure you I would not attempt that again," Ester replied.

"I can notify your family of your whereabouts. Tell them that you are recovering from your ordeal here," he suggested.

It all sounded perfectly reasonable, but Ester was filled with a crawling horror at the thought of being confined. Of being trapped at the mercy of this man. Whoever he was.

"I cannot stay in the house of a strange man, particularly as I have come to learn there are very few staff here," Ester explained.

"You can consider Molly your personal lady's maid," the Duke replied quickly.

"But why do you want to keep me here?" Ester knew she sounded plaintive and afraid but couldn't hold it in any longer.

The Duke appeared imperturbable but she noticed his gloved fingers were clenched hard together. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. There was a moment of silence.

"You were dead, Miss Granger. I put life back into you and…"

Amazingly, his voice broke. The Duke looked away, distress clear on his face. Ester watched as he regained control. She tried to think what in those words had caused him such upset. The notion of saving her life was surely one to be proud of? There was something unsaid that she was missing. But then there was a lot that she was not saying. He looked back at her, eyes bright and open.

"I brought you back to life, but one cannot underestimate the effect of being in that state. I think it best you remain as my guest for… a week."

"If your concern is for my health, then send for a physician. I am sure he will confirm that there have been no ill effects."

"Of course. A physician has already been sent for, in fact," the Duke said, smoothly.

Ester glanced at Molly who had taken a seat on the bed, as far away from the two as she could get. She wondered if it were true.

"When will he arrive?" Ester asked.

"…Tomorrow?" the Duke replied.

"Very well," Ester said, "I suppose I can remain here until tomorrow."

Something flickered across the Duke's face. A hint of anguish? Again, Ester glanced at Molly, and this time the maid was looking back at her. Their eyes met and Ester could see sympathy there. She looked back at the Duke, confused.

"Your Grace…" she began, but he interrupted her.

"Please, Miss Granger. Would you do me the honor of using my given name? Julian . The title is one I do not care for due to some… conflict in my youth with the previous holder of that title."

"As you wish… Julian."

The name sounded gloriously intimate on her tongue.

Julian looked up as she said it and their eyes met. She thought for one delirious moment that he shared her delight in the speaking of that simple word. The dream came back to her then and she wondered what she would experience in her sleep tonight, now that she had seen the man up close. It was enough to make her giddy. At the same time, she wondered at his reluctance to be called by his honorific. As though he were ashamed to be a Duke. She had to remind herself that this man appeared to be trying to hold her prisoner. That he might be lying about the physician, might have some nefarious designs of his own. From nowhere came a tickle in her throat, which soon became an unbearable urge to cough.

She tried to speak but it wracked her, seizing her chest and freezing her throat. Molly stood, went to a sideboard, and then hurried over with a glass of water. The Duke had risen but seemed stuck to the spot, as though frozen by indecision. The anguish on his face was now clear to see and had deepened. Ester gulped down the water, feeling the tickle subside but not disappear completely. Molly looked desolate.

"Excuse me, Julian. I think I spoke too soon about a cold resulting from my… immersion in the lake."

It sent a thrill of fear through her when she handed the glass back to Molly and saw tears in her eyes. Ester cleared her throat as another cough welled up. Julian turned away, running a hand through his hair like a man at the end of his tether.

"It is just a cold. Possibly a chest cold. I have had them before, I can assure you. We all have," Ester tried to reassure the two, concerned by their reaction.

It was as though both believed she was dying. Julian turned back to her. He stepped closer and made as though to take her hand. Ester shrank away and saw the reaction on Julian's face to that. He stepped back, hands clenching into fists at his side.

"I am so very sorry, Miss Granger…" he began.

"Please, call me… Emily, if I am to call you Julian," Ester said.

"Emily. Please forgive me. I… I…"

Julian trailed off, turning away but immediately turning back, chin lifted.

"I have done this and I will face it. I must ask you to believe me that it was done with the best of intentions. You would have drowned. But in my haste, I was careless, and the result will now be the same."

Molly was openly weeping, hiding her face. Ester's fear now reached a fever pitch. She did not understand anything that was going on but these two people were behaving as though she were under a certain sentence of death.

"I'm afraid I do not understand. Please, Julian, will you explain to me clearly? What has you so grieved for me? You saved my life and I will be eternally grateful for that. I do not understand why you act as though I am in my grave."

Julian met her gaze and she saw both sorrow and strength in his eyes. She found the strength admirable, it made her like him. He was feeling some kind of terrible despair and yet he was facing it with head held high, refusing even to turn away from her.

Ester cleared her throat and stood. She faced Julian eye to eye, meeting his strength with her own, facing her fear and refusing to give in to it. For some reason, it was terribly important to her at that moment that she show Julian her mettle. This was a strong man, both physically and in character. Ester could see that clearly, as though it were written across his face. She wondered briefly why it should feel so crucial that he see the same quality in her. That he think well of her. This man had openly stated that he was holding her prisoner and offered no reason. Why should she care for his opinion?

"I do not understand but I will face whatever you believe is coming. I have faced adversity before and I have not acquitted myself. You do not know me and I will not have you think me a weakling that needs to be protected. Will you tell me, straight out with no dissembling, what it is you fear for me?"

Julian watched her thoughtfully for a moment. Molly's weeping became louder and a flash of irritation crossed his face.

"Molly, please remove yourself from the room," he snapped.

Molly ran, hiding her face in her hands. Julian's face creased with remorse and he half turned as though to go after her. Teeth gritted, he turned back to Ester. This was a man with a sharp bark, but was his bite of equal measure? A quick temper perhaps. Julian raised his hands to either side, fingers spread. He sighed.

"I wear these gloves for a reason. I suffer an affliction that renders my touch lethal to all. A curse, if you will. When I pulled you from the water, my gloves were removed. I could not find you in that black mere without the sense of touch. Once touched by my bare hands, the curse is upon you. You will die, I fear."