Page 111 of A Single Obsession

They lapsed into silence as the horses pulled the carriage along the turnpike road at a spanking pace. As they neared their destination, she found it increasingly hard to sit still. She fiddled with the strap of her reticule as she kept praying, asking God to spare him.

Her heart raced as if she were trying to escape from a wild beast, but the only beast she needed to run from was fear. Her dread of being too late. Of Beau dying.

The carriage turned off the turnpike road and followed several lanes before passing under a stone arch and up the driveway to Langcroft Park. She was vaguely aware of the massive columns that fronted the house, but she was in no mood to admire the architecture.

With difficulty, she restrained herself from jumping down from the carriage the moment it stopped. A footman helped her alight, and she ran up the steps and through the impressive portico to the front entrance. She rang the bell and stood back to wait.

“If you please, miss, we must hurry,” said Reed, moving past Eliza and pushing the door open without waiting for a servant to answer.

The maid led her up the main staircase, along a corridor, and into a large chamber. On the left was a huge four-poster bed that dominated the room, and in the middle of it lay an inanimate figure.

“Oh, my poor love,” Eliza said, pulling off her bonnet and pelisse and letting out a sob. As she rushed to his bedside and took Beau’s hands in her own, she heard the door click shut. She glanced behind her to discover Reed had left them alone. How tactful of her—though not altogether proper.

Eliza leaned over his still body and lowered her face to just above his. She was so close, she could feel his breath on her skin. He was alive! The tiniest of smiles crept onto her lips. If there was life, there was hope.

“I’m sorry for not believing you. For not trusting you. We all make mistakes, and I should have given you the chance to put things right. Forgive me for embarrassing you by riding Romeo. I thought you wanted your freedom—but I don’t want to be free of you. Please do not die. I love you so much.”

She stroked the hair on his poor bruised head, trailing her hand down the side of his face and over the hint of dark stubble on his chin. With the tip of her finger, she traced the outline of his mouth, and then she leaned over a little further until their lips met.

The tears fell, unheeded, down her cheeks and onto his skin as she kissed him with a feather-light touch, which made her lips tingle.

One kiss was not enough.

Again, she lowered her mouth until it touched his—but this time, he kissed her back.

A whimper of joy escaped her at this encouraging sign. Cupping his face with her hand, she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“Oh, Beau. Please stay with me. Don’t die.”

Beau lifted one eyelid. “Am I likely to?”

Eliza blinked away a tear and brushed a lock of hair away from his brow. “You hit your head. They told me you might not survive. You asked for me, so I came.”

He opened the other eye and stared at her. “I did? Not that I don’t want to see you—I do. I thought I must be dreaming when I woke up to your kisses. And, in case I don’t get another chance, will you please forgive me for messing up and marry me? I wasn’t just saying it. I love you. But I warn you, this time it’s for keeps. I won’t let you go again.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But I love you.”

“Not that bit, silly. I meant about not having another chance. You will get better. I’ll make you well.”

“Am I missing something?”

“You’re confused.”

“That’s an understatement. The last thing I remember is riding in the woods and then…?”

Beau screwed up his face as if plumbing the depths of his mind, trying to find an answer.

“Jet threw you.”

“What? No, I don’t think so…”

He touched the back of his skull. “Ouch!” The jolt of pain seemed to awaken his memory. “Now I recall—someone hit me.”

“Are you sure? Reed informed me you’d been thrown.”

“Yes. I’ve got a lump on the back of my head the size of an egg, but my brain is not so addled I can’t tell the difference between being tossed from my horse and being struck from behind.”