Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

T he rain continued to lash in torrents outside, pelting against the windows of the manor. Inside, the crackling fire was the only source of warmth and light. James watched as Sarah curled up on the bed. He could see the exhaustion and strain etched on her features, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart. Breathing out, he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep on the chaise. There was a dull throb at the base of his neck from where those ruffians hit him. The chaise deepened that throb. The sensible thing would be to share the large, four-poster bed with her. They were adults of good sense. Surely, they could share a damn bed.

Only, the hunger he had toward her for almost three years had sunk too deep inside him. How the hell would he resist the soft feel of her curled against him? The memory of her touch, the scent of her hair, and the sight of her in his shirt were almost too much to bear. He could still recall the heat of her body against his whenever they danced, the way her eyes had sparkled with defiance and something more profound.

A noise made him shift his head to peer at the bed. She tossed restlessly, even thumping the pillow a few times. He frowned as he watched her struggle to find comfort.

"You should get some rest, Sarah," he said softly.

"I am still cold," she muttered.

Hell . James stood and grabbed the blanket he planned to use on the chaise. It would be a cold night, but she needed it more than him. The linen closets here were empty, and save for the thin coverlet on the bed, there was nothing else they could use.

As he draped the blanket over her, he noticed how vulnerable she looked. Her usual poise and elegance were now overshadowed by her obvious exhaustion and discomfort. Her eyes, which usually sparkled with intelligence and humor, were now dull with fatigue. He felt a surge of protectiveness and an overwhelming need to ensure her safety.

The sight of her, so small and fragile in the oversized bed, tugged at something deep within him. He wanted to hold her, to offer her the warmth and comfort she so desperately needed, but he knew the danger that lay in that path.

Instead, he leaned down and said, "Try to sleep, Sarah. I'll be right here if you need anything."

She nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering before closing. James watched her for a moment longer, then reluctantly returned to the chaise. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing. Did her family realize she was missing? The devil made fools of people. James had been so careful only to allow certain interactions with her, and now they were trapped together under the same roof. James had to find a way to protect her reputation. How would her family react to the knowledge they spent a night alone? In the same room?

It was a bloody mess.

The rain and the crackling fire were the only sounds in the room, but they did little to soothe his restless thoughts. He shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position, but his mind kept drifting back to Sarah. James remembered the first time he had met her, how she had captivated him with her sharp wit and fiery spirit. Over the years, his awareness of her had only grown stronger despite his best efforts to keep them in check.

A soft whimper sounded, and he pushed from the chaise and padded over to her. His fingers brushed against her cheek as he adjusted the blanket, and James frowned. Why did she feel so warm?

Another soft whimper of distress sounded. "Sarah?"

Her lashes fluttered open, and she gave him a weak smile.

"I think you might be coming down with a fever."

"I feel hot and cold, James. I hate it."

That soft plea hooked inside his body and painfully wrenched.

He frowned. "I will get some water and see if I can find anything to help."

Leaving the room, James hurried down the stairs and to the kitchen, rummaging through the larder and cupboards. Luckily, there was enough for him to make tea, which he efficiently put together. He found a basin, filled it with water, and grabbed a cloth. Returning to the bedchamber, he soaked the cloth in the cool water and gently placed it on Sarah's forehead.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Have some tea," he said, helping her to sit up.

She drank it, then groaned and curled into the bed. James sat beside her, watching her. He knew he should probably rest too, but he did not want to leave her side. He took the opportunity to examine her fingers, noticing the small cut from her dagger. It appeared red but not deep. With a gentle touch, careful not to wake her, James cleaned the wound with the cloth. He then stepped behind the screen to spread out her clothes to dry. Returning to her side, he placed her dagger and spectacles on the small table beside the bed.

As the night wore on, Sarah's condition seemed to worsen. She tossed and turned with her skin flushed with fever. James kept changing the cloth on her forehead, trying to bring her some relief. At one point, she began to shiver uncontrollably. James quickly grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her.

"James," she sobbed, her teeth chattering. "I am so cold."

He lay down beside her, pulling her close to share his body heat. She nestled against him, her head resting on his chest. Her trembling slowly subsided, her body gradually relaxing in his arms.

"Is this better?" he murmured.

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "You smell so wonderful, James. I have always liked your scent."

"Ah, that explains your subtle sniffing. I thought it a condition."

Sarah turned and, to his shock, bit his chest hard. Bloody hell .

He looked down at her, his hand gently stroking her hair. "What was that for? Teasing you?"

"No. For thinking of marrying another," she said drowsily. "How dare you."

For the first time in a long time, James found himself speechless. Sarah was an amusing conversationalist, remarkably pretty, and roused every one of James's senses. A few times, he owned the errant thought that he had never wanted another woman this badly, and it was a pity he did not wish to live in her world.

Taking a steady breath, he said, "It is normal for a man to consider marriage with someone compatible, especially when he feels unfulfilled with life."

They lay there in silence; the only sounds were the crackling of the fire, the storm, and her deep breathing.

"My family will be very upset with me, especially mama."

Her voice was so low he barely heard her.

"You were very brave, you know," he said quietly. "Not many people would have done what you did tonight."

Sarah suddenly stiffened, her eyes squeezing shut in pain.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"My head … it is pounding," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

James felt helpless, unsure of what more he could do to alleviate her suffering. "Just try to rest," he said softly, gently massaging her temples. "I am here. You are safe. You can bite me again if you wish to."

The hours dragged on, and James remained by Sarah's side, watching over her as she drifted in and out of sleep. Her fevered murmurs and occasional whimpers stabbed at his heart, and he murmured soothing nonsense that seemed to calm her.

James noticed a slight change as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows. Her fever seemed to be breaking, and her breathing had steadied. He let out a sigh of relief and hugged her against his chest. The sight of her, finally resting peacefully, filled him with a mixture of relief and a deeper, more tender emotion he dared not name. James closed his eyes and slid into an exhausted sleep.

The first light of dawn had barely pierced the thick, bloated clouds when Sarah stirred, feeling the comforting weight of an arm at her hip and the gentle warmth of the fire. She lay quietly, still drowsy, slipping back and forth between sleep and awareness. She inhaled and stilled. His warm, masculine scent invaded her lungs. James was in bed with her. Pleasure wrapped its arms around her like a warm blanket on a chilled evening. Sarah was curled on her left side, and he was a solid wall behind her, his legs tangled with hers and his arm a heavy weight over her hip. His breath was warm on her shoulder. It felt incredibly comfortable and peaceful.

Was this how it felt to sleep with a husband?

The memories of the last several hours rushed through her thoughts. Oh! She vaguely recalled James dabbing her heated cheeks and forehead with a cool cloth, feeding her water when she felt parched and holding her. She felt a warm glow in her chest as she thought about how he had cared for her during the night, staying by her side and ensuring her comfort.

She had also bitten him. Sarah's lips parted and no sound came forth as she recalled telling him the reason for the punishment and his low reply.

It is normal for a man to consider marriage, especially when he feels unfulfilled with life .

James Fairbanks was unfulfilled. How curious .

She turned and faced him, surprised he did not wake. James was deeply asleep, his handsome face relaxed. The predawn light highlighted the strong lines of his jaw and the sensual curve of his lips. His dark hair was tousled, falling across his forehead in a way that made him look boyish.

She lowered her gaze to his chest and winced. Her teeth marks in his flesh was quite evident. Sarah reached out to touch it and hesitated. Though she ached inside with the need to touch him, she did not want to wake him. She gently disengaged herself from his embrace and sat up on the bed, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The bedchamber was modestly furnished, with the large, four-poster bed, a sturdy oak wardrobe, and a dressing table near the window. The room had an air of forgotten elegance, with faded tapestries adorning the walls and a large, ornate mirror reflecting the flickering firelight. She felt a pang of stiffness and the lingering effects of the fever, but overall, she felt significantly better than the night before.

"How are you feeling?"

That low murmur made something tighten low inside her belly. She glanced down. He was peering up at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Better," she replied, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for everything you did last night."

"There are no thanks needed between friends."

The awareness of how scantily clad she was and his near nakedness was piercing. Sarah tried to concentrate on something else. "Where are we, exactly?"

"This is one of my properties in Derbyshire. It was owned by a baron who fell on hard times. I have been in the process of restoring it. I find peace and enjoyment in bringing old manors back to life."

She smiled, appreciating the rustic charm of the manor. "I can see why you are restoring it."

Thunder rumbled and she glanced outside. The sky was a deep gray, the sun still hidden behind the bloated clouds. The rain had started to fall again, tapping gently against the windowpanes. The landscape outside was lush and green but shrouded in mist and rain, giving it a hauntingly beautiful quality. James sat up, the blanket slipping from his naked chest. She drank in the strong lines of his torso, the well-defined muscles of arms and shoulders, the ridges down his abdomen. He stretched slightly, a yawn escaping him as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. Seeing him so casually at ease yet strikingly handsome made Sarah's heart skip a beat.

"You should rest more," James said, his voice still husky with sleep. "You had a rough night."

"I will," she said softly, unable to take her eyes off him. "But I'm feeling much better now."

He gave her a crooked smile, one that made her heart flutter. As they sat there, the rain continued to fall, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them. The rain tapping against the windows was soothing, adding to the sense of closeness and seclusion. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room and highlighting the sharp lines of James's face.

"James—"

"Sarah—"

She laughed, the sound shaky. "We are both rushing to speak."

His gaze gleamed with amusement. "Ladies first."

"I require your honesty."

"I am always honest with you, Sarah."

His sincerity made her heart squeeze. Shifting on the bed, she wiggled backward until she was flush against the headboard. James lifted a brow at her actions, his curiosity piqued.

"I am certain you are wondering why I have not yet descended into swoons and hysterics to wake up in bed with you."

"You are a woman of good sense," he drawled. "I have not wondered anything of the sort."

She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, feeling the need to keep her hands busy. "Do you think we'll be able to leave soon?"

James shook his head. "Not yet. The roads will be impassable with this much rain. The river will overflow the bridge on the main road. It's safer to stay here until the rain stops and the ground dries out. We might be here for three to five days. I will have to find a way to send a letter to Colin in town. I have no horse here and no carriage. My closest neighbor is several miles away. Once the rain has stopped, I will walk over and borrow a horse or a footman to deliver a couple of letters for us."

Sarah nodded, accepting his assessment. "I often walk in the nights when I cannot sleep."

"I know."

Her eyes widened. "You know?"

A complicated look flashed in his eyes, and he briefly looked away. "Accept that I know. Why—"

"Tell me," she demanded softly. "How do you know, James? Did my brother tell you?"

"No. I saw you one night a few months ago. I've had reason to see you many times since."

She stared at him, fascinated by the red climbing along his jawline. Was James Fairbanks blushing? And what did that reaction reveal? Sarah turned his words over in her mind. "That is to say, whenever you want to see me, you walk along the path you believe I will be."

Their gazes collided. "Yes," he said.

"I see. I wondered how these men found you when I saw no carriage," she said, almost giddy inside.

Since the night she sneaked out to Lady Sanderson's masquerade and danced with him, James had maintained a careful distance. Over the course of the year, his apparent indifference bruised her heart so deeply that she had avoided him as much as possible. Yet, unbeknownst to her, he had often walked in the dark, silently watching over her.

James moved so that his back was flush against the headboard, dragging one of his feet up and casually resting an arm over his knee. "I wanted to see you," he said simply as if his words did not warrant further explanation.

Instead of pointing out that he never tried to speak with her, she said, "I am sure you know my brother has a footman who discreetly follows me."

"I have seen him."

"He went for help. I did tell him they were taking you to Penporth and that I was determined to help you. I am certain he will inform Frederick I went into the carriage, but I fear my family will worry."

James frowned, his brows knitting together. "It is a damn mess. Colin and your family will work to ensure there is no scandal. I am sure they will have a suitable response to explain your absence should anyone ask. I am also certain both Colin and Frederick will madly rush to Penporth. With rains and many impassable roads, reaching Penporth will take about eight to ten days."

Sarah took a deep breath. "My family will try to force us to marry, saying I am compromised."

James looked at her, his expression serious. "I know."

"I will not allow it."

"I consider myself a simple man with simple needs and desires. No one could force me to marry where I do not."

"Good," she said, holding his gaze.

"How unusual," he drawled, something unfathomable flickering in the blue depths of his gaze.

Sarah merely smiled. Forcing a marriage by saying she was irrevocably compromised was the easiest path to claim what she wanted. Still, Sarah could not bear the notion that the only reason James Fairbanks might marry her was for duty and honor. She wanted to mean something to James. She wanted to be the woman he would choose. Nothing less.

Because I want you to marry me because you love me with your entire heart.