His pain

*Zac*
As I head into my bedchamber exhausted from chasing down and finally recapturing my idiot horse, then stubbornly galloping back to the manor while every beat of the hooves jarred my leg and sharpened the pain, I hear the baby cry out. Immediately I pause, my hand on the doorknob.

Before this afternoon, I had enjoyed having the entire wing to myself. Then I had asked that Callie should be given a room near me. I don’t know if she is aware that I am just across the hall. In spite of the fact that I had been wearing a greatcoat, which I had discarded downstairs, I am wet and chilled. My hair clings to my head and the water drips onto my shoulders.

I am hardly presentable.

The baby’s wails rise in crescendo. There can be no doubt he has a good set of lungs. Why is he so upset? Why doesn’t he cease his screaming?

I cross the hallway and knock on the door. No one else is in my wing to be disturbed, and sleep never comes easily to me. I could ignore the crying, but I am concerned for Callie. I feel a need to do something to assist her.

Lie to everyone else, you fool, but not to yourself. You simply welcome the excuse to see her again in spite of your disheveled state.

The crying stops, but now my curiosity is piqued beyond measure. Even though I am wet, shivering, and in need of a good dose of laudanum, I find myself knocking on the door once again. “Miss Dawns?"

I hear the soft pad of bare feet just before the door clicks and she peeks out through the narrow opening. Fear and worry furrows her brow. That is how she has come to have that little indention. It deepens with her concern, and she has no doubt spent a great amount of time concerned.

“Is anything wrong?" I ask.

“No. Zane gets hungry this time of night." She says softly.

I find myself peering over her shoulder, striving to see the boy. What is with my blasted curiosity?

“I’m sorry if he disturbed you. I thought this was the guest wing, that we were alone.” I explain.

I see no need to alarm her by revealing how near she is to my chambers. I will not take advantage. For some inexplicable reason, it calms me to know that I am available if she has a need. She is in no danger here, but still the notion reverberates through my aching head that I can protect her. It is only natural that I want to shield her from hurt, but there is more to it that I can’t explain.

“Is there anything you require?” I ask.

She shakes her head briskly. “No. l have a nurse.” She blushes to the roots of her hair, which is caught in a stubble of a braid. I imagine it much longer, draped over her shoulder, falling just past her breast. The thought is quickly followed by the realization that I have cupped that breast, run my tongue over it, drawn the nipple even now puckers under my gaze into my mouth. “Zane doesn't go hungry.”

“You hired a wet nurse?" I am curious as to why.

The blush deepens, then retreats. She angles her chin with defiance as though quite offended. “A lady of good breeding does not … she does not handle the task herself.”

“It seems a rather odd place to draw the line." I wonder out loud.

“Whatever do you mean?” She asks.

I lean toward her, biting back my groan as my thigh protests. “A lady of breeding doesn't give birth to a child out of wedlock."

“You were otherwise occupied and not available for marriage." She simply says.

She does not attempt to excuse her behavior. I like that about her. It is also obvious that she takes offense to me finding fault with her. I don’t blame her. I had been attempting to distract myself from traveling a path that might have led to a disastrous destination: her again in my bed before anything is resolved between us.

I want to take her hand and lead her across the hallway. I want to feather my fingers through her hair while kissing her. I want her draped over my bed, too satisfied to move. Then I would curl around her and … sleep. What an odd thought.

“My apologies. My words were uncalled for. It seems my sins regarding you know no bounds. I shan’t add preventing you from sleeping to the list. Good night." I turn to leave, my leg giving out under me.

She is there in the hallway, supporting me, one hand clutching my elbow, her arm wrapped around my waist, her scent of lavender is wafting up to tease my nostrils, while that damned breast I had been fantasizing about is pressed up against my upper arm.

“You're cold and in pain. What were you doing out and about? ” She chastises.

“I needed to ride, I needed air. Now if you'll release me and return to your room, I'll make my way to my bedchamber." I say.

“I’ll assist you. Where is it?" She asks.

I nod toward the door across the hallway and her eyes widens.

“You claimed there are an abundance of rooms." She simply says.

“There are. I cannot be held accountable if one of them is across from mine.”i shrug softly.

Her lips twitches.

“Where's the humor in that?" I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m just thinking of something you said when we first met.”

Damnation. We have shared intimacies that went beyond the bedchamber. I can’t fool her regarding my mental affliction for long. I should just come out with it now, but the pain has grown to a level so intense that I can barely think.

“You may release your hold on me," I inform her laconically.

Doubt floods her eyes, but she moves away.

“Good night,” I repeat.

She does little more than arch a brow and cross her arms beneath her breasts, a challenge in her eyes. She doesn’t believe any more than I do that I can make my way to my room without making an embarrassing spectacle of myself. Still, I am determined to try. Clenching my teeth, I step forward.

Pain slices through me and I can’t swallow back the groan as my leg buckles, and she is once again supporting me.

“Don't touch it," I growl.

She freezes. “What?”

“My leg. I can't stand for it to be touched." I bite out.

“Why ever not? Is it not yet healed?" She asks.

I shake my head. “It’s healed. It just hurts like bloody hell.”

“May I have a look at it?" There is worry in her eyes.

“To what purpose?" I ask.

She sighs. “I don’t know, but something isn't right here. Based upon when I saw your name listed among the casualties, you’ve had ample time to recover. If it's healed, you shouldn't have this pain."

I shake my head. “It's not usually this bad, but tonight ….”

“I insist. I need to see it.” She demands.

Her tone is adamant, her gaze unflinching. Is this how she had ended up in my bed? I can’t deny the allure of a determined woman.

“Very well." Having conceded that point, I also acknowledge that I require her assistance to reach my room. I drop my arm around her shoulders and allow her to escort me into my bedchamber.