Pricing The Heart

Chapter 13

Realization settled in Eloise's eyes as David stood staring down at her—wanting her beyond anything he had ever wanted. His lust was uncontainable, and Eloise saw it, for fear flashed in her eyes. Her body appeared to sink further into the mattress as her eyelids fluttered shut.

Leaning further down to claim her lips, he was stopped by the look in her eyes as her lids gave way; the look of acceptance. The fear was gone, and in its place, an acceptance of her fate.

David knew Eloise would not attempt to fight him off; he knew she would lie still and let him derive his pleasure; it was this knowledge that knocked him back to his senses.

By God, he was a monster! First, he had treated Eloise poorly by purchasing her and forcing her to live in his home as a servant, then he had injured her foot, and now he attempted to rape her. He knew he had changed since the death of his wife, but he hadn't known how godawful he had become. He had turned his grief into wrath and had turned his wrath on an innocent woman.

"Mrs Taylor." He touched her face, guilt stabbing his heart as he watched the color drained from it. "I'm not going to hurt you..." he sighed, glancing at her foot briefly, "not anymore. I'm sorry for what happened earlier and for how poorly I've treated you since you got here." Confusion creased her brows as she stared at him in disbelief. "You're free to go," he offered. "Allow me see to the care of your foot as payment for the harm I've caused, and once you're ready to leave Oakham, you have my permission." Setting her free was the least he could do for the damage he had caused these past few months. Perhaps she might even decide to leave with Jon. The life of a mistress was less-than-honorable, but it would afford her the luxury she deserved.

Silence followed his words. Releasing his hold on her face, he turned his attention to her injured foot.

"May I?" He sought her permission once again.

"Yes, my lord," she whispered.

He raised her skirt to her shin, a soft wince drifting from his lips at the sight of her ankle. His shame was uncontainable as he slid her slipper off her foot and stared at her damaged nail.

Mrs Edward entered the room soon after with a steaming kettle and a bottle of scotch.

"I need a bowl, scissors, arnica and gauze," he said.

"Yes, my lord." She turned from him, exiting the room once more.

David made his way back to Eloise's side and touched her forehead. "It's going to hurt for a second while I work, but I need you to lie still."

He waited until she nodded to his instructions before turning to retrieve two pillows from the bed. He carried the pillows to her foot and placed them under her ankle to elevate her foot above her head.

Mrs Edward returned sooner than he expected. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, he went to work on Eloise's foot. He already had plenty of medical experience from his time in the war when he needed to not only treat his wounds, but the wounds of other soldiers in the absence of a physician. Once, he had stitched his own thigh.

Pushing the horrid memory aside, he reached for the scissors and began cutting Eloise's broken nail, hoping to extract it from the root. The thing was dead as far as he could tell, and would certainly be nothing but a nuisance if he didn't take it off. Eloise yelped, hissed and winced while he worked, her knee jerking upright as she fought to be released. But David kept a firm hold on her leg.

"Sit with her," he said, taking the entire tray from Mrs Edward as he motioned to Eloise. The older woman nodded once before settling on the edge of the bed and taking Eloise's hand in hers. Eloise's cries subsided once Mrs Edward was by her side, but it didn't cease completely, ripping David's heart apart as he worked to clean the blood that stained her toe. Then, he poured the hot water and arnica mixture into the bowl.