A Warriner to Tempt Her Read online

  ‘I’m so sorry he maligned you so grievously. It’s all my fault.’ He was apologising to her?

  ‘No, it isn’t. You weren’t to know the secrets I’ve been keeping.’

  ‘They were your secrets, Bella. Dr Bentley had no right to break your trust. He’s duty-bound to keep the secrets of those under his care. What he said and the manner in which he said it fills me with rage. I’m still in two minds about hunting the charlatan down and spreading his nose over his face. One word from you and I will happily do so.’

  What a lovely thing to say. ‘Please don’t. As much as I loathe Dr Bentley, I would hate to be the cause of you doing something so against your character. You are a brilliant doctor and, as you said, doctors heal injuries, they don’t cause them.’

  ‘That answer doesn’t please me.’ He sighed the words into her hair and she felt some of the tension leave his body.

  ‘Dr Bentley needs his nose, Joe. Without it, what will he use to look down at us with? The wild Warriner and the witless woman.’

  His arms tightened around her. ‘You’re not witless. Far from it, in fact. You are one of the most intelligent people I have ever met.’

  ‘And you’re not wild.’

  ‘More’s the pity. Today I would very much like to be. It would give me an excuse to go back after Bentley and then hunt down the scoundrel who hurt you.’ He stilled and she could almost hear his clever brain whirring. ‘You were...attacked, I assume?’ A very tactful way of putting it. Instantly, Bella tensed as the constantly lingering memory pushed front and centre in her mind. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

  ‘It is as Dr Bentley said. I was molested by a scoundrel and it addled my mind.’

  ‘I don’t want to hear Dr Bentley’s version of events. I want to hear yours. Unless you would rather not entrust me with it. I wouldn’t blame you after how despicably your last physician just treated you.’

  ‘I prefer to forget about it and pretend it never happened.’ Not talking about it was safer. She never talked about it, although, in fairness, Joe was the first person who had asked. ‘I keep hoping if I ignore it, it will go away.’

  ‘But it hasn’t?’

  She shook her head against his chest and wanted to cry again. Sometimes the pain inside was intensely physical, forming a tight knot in her gut and making her throat constrict. He must have sensed her discomfort, because his next words were measured, almost as if they took a great deal out of him to say.

  ‘When my brother Jamie came back from the war, he was broken inside... He’d been captured and tortured. It...it changed him. His behaviour for at least a year was irrational and it was dreadful to watch. He kept it all locked inside, you see, and instead of healing the pain he surrounded it in a barricade, where it festered and grew. Those walls in his mind got so tall they engulfed him. He withdrew from the world. From his family. For the longest time we despaired of...of ever seeing the real him again.’

  Just as Bella despaired of ever seeing the real her again, too. She had seen Jamie Warriner with his wife and family. He didn’t appear broken now. ‘What changed things?’

  ‘Time.’ His hand came up to stroke the long tendril of hair which had fallen down her back during her frantic escape from the square. ‘The patience of his family. The love of a good woman.’ Her scalp began to tingle as he wound the stray strands idly around his finger. ‘Finding the courage to talk about what happened... I think that was the real turning point. He confided in Cassie first and then that made it easier for him to tell us. Once it was all out in the open, we could all understand what he was feeling and help in our own small ways. Brick by brick he demolished those walls.’

  ‘My family and I have never discussed it. I wouldn’t know where to start telling them now. Everything is so jumbled and confused in my mind.’

  ‘Then unjumble it. Tell me what’s going on in whatever order it comes out.’

  He made it sound so simple, when it really was anything but. How did one explain the constant, unfathomable and inexplicable fear hovering on the outskirts of her thoughts? Or the random flashes of memory which rendered her frozen and panicked at the same time? ‘I... That night... My mind...’ She huffed out a sigh and gave up. ‘I don’t have the words.’

  ‘Would it be easier if I asked you questions?’

  Probably, although the mere thought of answering them, of churning up all that quagmire, made her stiffen and pull away. Bella shuffled across the grass to put some distance between them and hugged her knees. ‘All right.’

  ‘Where were you? When it happened?’ His instincts told him to start with simple questions which required little explanation.

  ‘Vauxhall Gardens. There were fireworks.’

  ‘Were you on your own?’

  ‘No. I was with my family. We were all stood together.’ Her eyebrows drew together and she frowned at the memory, apparently angry with herself. ‘I should have stayed with them.’

  ‘But you didn’t?’

  ‘No. There was a man a little way away. He was dressed in rags. He was so thin...’

  He watched her swallow and felt bad for making her relive the dreadful events, and as much as Joe didn’t want to have to hear about them either, he knew from bitter experience such recollections were better out than inside. Inside they festered like a tumour. ‘You felt sorry for him?’

  Her eyes snapped to his and she nodded. Just once. ‘I went to give him some coins. I have this pathetic need to help people. Or I did. Before.’

  She still did. Her work at the infirmary, her selfless act in the square, volunteering herself to be vaccinated in public to allay the fears of the locals and help him. It broke his heart to see those generous and selfless gestures thrown back into her face. ‘Then what happened?’ He could feel his own muscles tense before he heard her answer and willed his professional veneer of calmness to remain in place. His legendary temper had no place here, even though it was bubbling dangerously close to the surface and desperate to break free.

  ‘As I turned to walk away, his hand clamped around my mouth and he pressed a knife to my throat. He s-said...’ Her body racked with an unconscious sob as she relived the moment and her arms tightened about her knees. ‘He said, “Y-You’re a generous sort, aren’t you, lovely? I’m not done with you yet.”’

  Despite the warm July sun beating down on them, Bella shivered and closed her eyes to block out the images in her head. She lapsed into silence, her usually plump lips compressed into a thin line, and Joe desperately wanted to hold her. He resisted the urge to touch her because she clearly needed the distance, hugged into a tight ball and refusing to meet his eyes. ‘Can you tell me what happened then?’

  More silence and for the longest minute of his life Joe thought she would refuse. But then her words came, tumbling out of her mouth in a half-whispered rush. ‘He dragged me through some bushes. It was pitch-black behind. I couldn’t see anything. The odd flash from a firework. Nothing more. I could hear all the people on the other side. Laughing. Having fun. But I could smell him. I can still smell him. He was filthy. Rotten vegetables. Stale sweat. Breathing on my face. His dirty hand pressed hard on my mouth. He hooked his leg around mine and I fell backwards. He fell on top of me. It crushed my ribs, but I couldn’t scream.’

  Bella scrambled to her feet and turned to stare off into space. Her arms now wrapped around her body, comforting herself. Quietly, Joe also stood and followed her to the edge of the field beyond, where he came to stand beside her. He sensed she did not want to be touched, so he clamped his hands behind his back, lest he gave in to the urge to clench his fists and she saw them. He hoped his presence gave her some courage and promised himself he would commit murder if he ever met the faceless man who had violated her.

  ‘His other hand was touching me everywhere. Grabbing and pawing at me.’ One of her hands fluttered near her chest and her abdomen, mapping the assault back on to herself. ‘He tugged up my skirts and he...he touched me there, too. I kicked and twisted
, but he was stronger than me. I was pinned to the floor. Powerless. When he grabbed my thigh and pushed my legs apart, I felt...him pressed against me. He almost choked me as he undid his breeches. His hand rummaged between us...he said he’d kill me if I kept fighting him and ruining his fun.’

  Tears began to pour over her cheeks and her chest rose and fell in panic. It was an awful thing to see. It was a more awful thing to hear and for a second Joe didn’t want to hear the rest, until he realised he was being selfish and her telling it to expunge it from her soul was nowhere near as horrific for him as the actual ordeal had been for her. ‘He raped you.’ To his own ears his voice was choked with a bundle of warring emotions. Pity. Anger. Raw, unabashed hatred. Horror. The visceral need to avenge her. Poor Bella. Her odd way around him now all made sense.

  ‘No.’

  The intense relief left him exhaling loudly. At least she had been spared that. ‘He almost did. He tried to. I could hear my family calling for me beyond the bushes. A big firework went off above us and I saw the blade of his knife lying on the ground nearby. I grabbed it and stabbed it in his hand as hard as I could. He flinched. Let go of my mouth briefly. I screamed as loud as I could until he punched me in the face. I managed to bring my knee up and hurt him, then he punched me again. After that it’s a bit of a blur. Someone must have heard, because people came through the bushes. He ran off. My parents... They took me home. They managed to get me away without causing a huge scene. They were able to hide what happened for the sake of my reputation.’

  And then stupidly never spoke of it again, he’d wager, hoping they could blot it out of their minds and allow Bella to continue blithely on with her life. Joe felt a wave of fresh anger at the silly rules of society which put a woman’s reputation above what was morally right. He knew the answer before asking the next question. ‘Was the scoundrel caught and brought to justice?’

  ‘They felt there was no need to cause a scandal because nothing had happened. Not really. I was still...still...’ she covered her face again, distraught yet clearly ashamed ‘...intact.’

  Yet broken inside because everything had happened. In one fell swoop this gentle, caring young woman had been shown how disgusting life could be. Traumatised. Her trust in the world and all its male inhabitants shattered while the monster who broke her was still wandering free.

  ‘To begin with, we all thought I was suffering from shock and the family physician assured us it was entirely natural and would pass, but as the weeks and months went by, my mental state got worse. I couldn’t go out. Crowds bothered me. Noise bothered me. Not knowing what was around the corner or deserted spaces bothered me. Men terrified me. When I couldn’t bear to sit in my own garden, my father became desperate and sought specialised help. At first I tried to accept the treatments, but being strapped down and almost drowned with cold water just made me more anxious. When the water treatments failed, they sent me to another doctor. Very well respected and expensive. He said I was suffering from hysteria and as soon as he explained how it had to be treated, that it would involve him touching me...intimately...I went quite mad and attacked him. That doctor washed his hands of me. So did the next. I begged my parents not to subject me to more doctors and convinced them I just needed to be away from London for a while. I wanted to find myself again...my way. I’ve been trying to use logic to help me face my fears...and I was d-d-doing s-so well!’

  Joe didn’t bother fighting the urge to hold her this time, although deep down he suspected he needed the comfort more than she did. She stood trembling in his arms like a wounded bird, sobbing behind her hands, and for the first time since he met her she seemed delicate. Vulnerable and so very lost it tore him in two.

  ‘You are doing well. I would never have known you had suffered all this. And you will continue to do well.’

  ‘Not if I have to go back to town. This was my last chance, don’t you see? If my way failed, then I promised my father I would listen to the physicians and accept the treatment they all threatened. It’s been over a year since the incident. I should be over it by now. Everybody says so. My family fear the damage to my mind is permanent, and if I go back home, then I know it will be. London petrifies me.’

  He found himself clinging on to her possessively. After everything she had suffered, subjecting her to the violations of the hysteria doctors was nothing but cruel. When her father returned from the city, he fully intended to tell him so, but for now all Joe could do was try to calm her down. ‘You don’t need to go back to town. There is no reason why you cannot continue to convalesce here.’

  ‘The whole village knows of my shame. I cannot stay.’

  ‘The whole village saw you bullied by a man who purports to be a healer. Whilst I can attest to the fact this town has a very long memory, I can also tell you that there are a great many people who have the capacity for kindness as well. Those with half a brain will know what happened to you was not your fault.’

  ‘You put a lot of faith in those people, yet didn’t they just cause the small riot in the square? Those same people gossip and spread lies about your family. I’m not hopeful they will be quite as forgiving as you seem to think. I am a virtual stranger to them. Now, thanks to Dr Bentley, I am an addled stranger who has a tenuous grip on reality. Much as I would like to believe you, I am a realist. At best I will be the source of much gossip, at worst, shunned.’

  ‘Those who know you—those who work alongside you in the infirmary, your patients—they will stick by you.’

  She stepped back and stared at him as if he had gone mad. ‘You cannot be suggesting I continue in the infirmary now that everyone knows I’ve not been right in the head?’

  ‘I most certainly am suggesting that. You have been a godsend to both me and those children. I’ve come to rely on you.’

  ‘But people will disapprove—’

  Joe interrupted her by holding her at arm’s length. ‘Let them. The foundling home is owned and run by my family. I’m in charge of the infirmary. Not one of those children has a parent who loves them. They are all alone in the world, save us. Their care should be our main priority, not what a bunch of ignorant gossips think. The best place for you to recover from your ordeal, to find yourself again and to knock down those walls in your mind, is in the infirmary doing what you love. You are a talented healer, Bella. I also happen to think you’d make a very talented doctor if the fools who run the universities would accept women. I’m happy to work alongside you and teach you all that I know.’ He saw hope blossom in her dark eyes. Saw her waver. ‘You told that crowd of doubters you would work alongside me and help vaccinate the people of Retford. I need your help, Bella, if I’m going to keep them safe. Don’t let that idiot Bentley destroy everything you’ve achieved since you arrived here.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m brave enough to face them all again.’

  ‘Yes, you are. Today you will go home and you will lick your wounds in private. Tomorrow I will meet your carriage in the square and escort you to my surgery. If anyone is brave enough to say anything about the state of your mind, then they will answer to me. However, I suspect you will earn their respect by returning. Dogged determination and the desire to do good, even when it is unpopular, are attributes to aspire to. Come.’ Joe took her hand; it felt small yet so right in his. His palm heated at the contact, the warmth spreading up his arm and flooding his chest. ‘Let me escort you home.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bella never expected to sleep. The horrible morning, the physical and mental toll her confession to Joe took, combined with the frank and tearful conversation she had with her mother straight afterwards, had left her nerves positively jangling. She felt like she had been kicked around like a football, battered and bruised yet oddly unbeaten. Unburdening herself to Joe had been cathartic. His reaction to her words had been wonderful. He had been both supportive and outraged on her behalf and adamant she was neither mad nor would remain lost. After her initial outpouring, it had emboldened her to confide in
her mother as well.

  Her mother, God bless her, had been relieved to finally hear exactly what had transpired that dreadful night and had wept with Bella in her arms afterwards, confessing that she had wanted to know everything from the outset but, with Bella’s reluctance to talk and the passing of time, had not known how to initiate the conversation. When she’d heard the full details of Dr Bentley’s treachery, her mother had been incandescent with rage and intent on tearing him off a strip on the morrow. Whilst she wouldn’t be talked out of the latter, she had promised not to write to her husband about all that had transpired and to wait and see what happened in the next few days before acting in haste and worrying him unduly. Like Joe, her mother’s advice was to brazen it out and dare anyone to give credence to Dr Bentley’s accusations.

  ‘We are Beaumonts, Bella, and we shall behave as Beaumonts.’

  Wrung out like a dish rag in a mangle, Bella had gone to lie down on her bed a little before six and had shocked herself by sleeping like the dead until her maid woke her the next morning.

  * * *

  Now she was dressed in one of her finest day dresses, at her mother’s insistence, and turning the square in the carriage with her dear mama sat loyally by her side and looking every inch the formidable society Countess she was. Dr Bentley really had no idea what was about to hit him. Her mother at full tilt was something to behold.

  The carriage slowed and Bella saw Joe standing waiting, just as he had said he would. Seeing him made her stronger and her silly heart began to beat faster at the splendid sight of him stood tall and proud. To look at him, no one would guess he had been accused of doing the devil’s work the day before, or smashed up placards or manhandled Dr Bentley on her behalf or knocked the pious vicar on his backside. He was as calm as a millpond on a warm summer’s day and as handsome as sin in his austere black coat and freshly polished spectacles, his intense blue eyes twinkling with what looked like pride as he helped her out of the carriage.