Read Online My Lady Captive by Shirl Anders - Free Book Online Page A

her, showed her a
possible way to begin her defense. “What is wrong with him?” Alexei
asked tersely, as she stopped beside him to watch him pour some of
the whiskey into a crystal glass.
    “It is his leg. It is injured,” she answered
as she reached for the glass of whiskey.
    “How?” Alexei demanded sharply, as he grabbed
her wrist halting her movements as she held the glass.
    “I do not know. He has never told me. But it
must be the war,” she answered, tense and glaring at him.
    Alexei held her wrist immobile as his light
blue eyes sharpened. Then, he slowly reached into his jacket pocket
and lifted out a small vial of clear liquid. He dared her to move
with the pressure on her wrist and his gaze, as he lifted the lid
on the vial with his thumb and poured a small amount into the
whiskey.
    “I will not give him this!” she exclaimed,
and then she yelped at the crushing pressure Alexei placed on her
wrist.
    “You have no choice, puta! But it is
only laudanum for his pain.”
    She did not have a choice really, but
suddenly she knew that she would trust Alexei in this. Alexei loved
Wyndham, she realized, as much as he hated her, and Alexei would
not harm Wyndham because of it. “Let go of me!” she snapped
anxiously. “I would do anything to take away his terrible
pain.”
    Alexei’s caustic gaze held her prisoner for a
long moment, and then he eased his grip, lifting his hand away. “By
all means, puta, nurse your English master,” he responded with a
barbed tone.
    Orèlan waited no longer for more of their
charged interplay. She turned and went quickly to Wyndham’s side.
She saw immediately that his body was rigid with pain, perhaps
worse than a few minutes before. Not wasting any time, she lifted
his head and brought the glass to his lips. “Wyndham, here is the
whiskey. Drink some, Wyndham, drink,” she murmured, encouraging
him.
    Wyndham never opened his eyes and it seemed
difficult for him to unclench his jaw long enough to take a drink.
Yet, she managed, slowly to encourage him to drink the entire glass
of whiskey. His normally tanned features were pale and there where
white lines bracketing his firm mouth. She smoothed his blond hair
back with gentle strokes. She spoke to him with small soft words in
Spanish, “hush,” “love,” “relax,” and finally he sighed and she saw
some of the tensions leave his rigid features. More moments passed
and slowly, so slowly, he relaxed more, until his fists uncurled at
his side.
    It was not until that moment, when the
anxious tension relaxed somewhat inside her that she realized
Alexei was there, standing beside her, looking down at Wyndham. She
felt the intense urge to leap in front of Wyndham and shield him
from Alexei’s penetrating gaze. But that was foolish.
    “Khrisinan,” Alexei whispered, and he reached
a pale slender hand to Wyndham’s shoulder. Orèlan winced with the
effort she used not to brush Alexei’s hand away. “Wyndham, how were
you injured?” Alexei coaxed.
    Wyndham’s eyelids opened slowly to reveal his
dark purple unfocused irises. “W-Waterloo. Cann-non,” he slurred.
When Wyndham spoke, he was looking at her, and Orèlan realized that
he must have thought she asked the question.
    “Does it still hurt, Khrisinan?”
    Wyndham’s irises sharpened for a mere moment,
then dulled. “Are y-you worried, Alexei? About me?” he asked
sluggishly.
    “Of course, my friend, always.”
    “Don’t b-be,” Wyndham said as his eyelids
drooped.
    Abruptly, Orèlan felt Alexei’s cold hand on
her arm, which he used to pull her away from Wyndham’s side.
“Undress him,” Alexei ordered tartly. “Make your English Lord more
comfortable.”
    Orèlan immediately and instinctively thought
to protest, as she wondered why Alexei would not just order the
guards to do it . . . or why he would not do it himself. Valiantly,
she held her tongue, instead gathering an uncomfortable look as she
glanced at the three guards. Alexei’s ice blue