Page 21 of Desires of a Duke Collection

The brutal hit sent his body jerking, folding, and then splaying out. Limp. Inert.

“Fletch.” The word ripped from Talia’s mouth, her hands shaking his head.

The next blow slammed down onto his chest. A flop. Nothing more. Her husband flaccid, leaving her. No.

She tore her eyes off of Fletch’s face to the doctor. “You’re killing him. Killing him.”

Dr. Terrental glanced up at her, his eyes both commanding and calming. “He will be dead if I do nothing. This is what you wanted.”

Mr. Flemstone’s hands gripped onto her shoulders. “Dr. Terrental knows what he is doing, Talia.”

Talia glanced at the white of Fletch’s face, then looked up to Dr. Terrental, steeling herself. Whatever it took. She nodded. “Do what you must. Everything you need to.”

The doctor clamped his hands together, bringing them down in another brutal blow to her husband’s chest. His body flailed, then stilled.

She bent, setting her lips next to Fletch’s ear. “Fletch. This is when you fight. It is right now. Fight.”

Another hit. Another jerk.

“Dammit, Fletch, come back to me. You swore—you swore you would fight.” Talia’s head dropped, her hands gripping her husband, gripping him from death, gripping him from leaving her. He had been right all along. She could not take this. Not him leaving her. Not now. Time. She needed more time.

She glanced up as the doctor struck again. Fletch’s body flopped.

Nothing. No breath.

Her mouth went to his ear, pleading through her tears. “Fletch, you get back to me right now. Fight. I am pregnant and I need you. Need you. Today. Tomorrow. Years from now. I need you. Our child needs his father, so you will come back to me this instant. This instant, Fletch. You will fight your way back to me. Now, Fletch.”

She heard the blow to Fletch’s chest, and his body jerked, folding in half, ripping from her hands.

A gasp.

A long, gargling gasp that sent Fletch’s body doubling over on its side.

He gasped, again and again, his body convulsing against lack of air.

Dr. Terrental sat back onto his heels, his hands holding Fletch on his side, holding his body from violent spasms. He looked to Talia, disbelief plain on his face.

Talia scampered to where Fletch’s head had landed, grabbing him again in her hands. “Fletch, Fletch, keep fighting. You are almost back.”

Fletch’s arm lifted, his hand landing on the back of her head. Squeezing it.

And then it fell limp onto the floor.

***

His eyes cracked open. Cracked open and found her face.

Not that there was anywhere else to look.

Talia scooted closer on the bed to Fletch’s head, hovering above him, her nose almost touching his. Her fingers went to his brow, burying themselves into his hair. Touching him as she had been afraid to for the last nine hours.

She had only held his hand. Only his hand. Terrified to touch more. Terrified to upset the delicate balance his body was in.

He was breathing. It was enough. She would press for no more.

But now, now that his eyes had cracked, she would press for the world.

She dragged a breath into her lungs, exhaling it before she could find words. She leaned forward, her forehead touching his. “You fought for me.”

A hard swallow went through his throat before his chest lifted as air filled his lungs. The darkest flecks in his grey eyes were bright. “I never could deny you, Talia.”

She laughed, hard, her body shaking, her face unable to decide if she was smiling or crying. Both, she realized.

Lifting her head from his, she sat straight as she grabbed a handkerchief from the side table to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. She looked at Fletch. He was watching her as if she had gone half mad.

Her right hand slipped along the coverlet to wrap around the side of his belly. “Well, I am relieved we are done with that death business.”

A smile cut onto his handsome face—handsome even if all the color hadn’t returned to his cheeks. “Help me sit up?”

Talia nodded, helping him to lean up and grabbing pillows to prop him in the bed. She tucked the sheet around his bare chest and then grabbed water from the side table, holding it to his lips until he took several swallows.

Fletch situated, she sat on the side of the bed, her fingers tucked along his far hip, unwilling to let her hands leave his body.

His fingers lifted, rubbing his brow. “What happened? I went after Roserton and then blackness, and then…then there was a man?”

She nodded. “Dr. Terrental. He is still here. You need to properly meet him.”

“Where did he come from?”

“I rented the townhouse at the end of the block and installed him in it. I even insisted he see his patients and do surgeries there. I wanted him close at all times.”

“You what?” Fletch’s dark eyebrows flew upward, incredulous.

“If something happened to you, I knew he would be the best person to help you. So I needed him readily available. I met him through Mr. Flemstone. He also works for the Wotherfeld Hospital, and you know they are focused on discovery—on the most advanced medical knowledge.”

Fletch’s eyebrows dropped to their normal position, yet his head tilted as his eyes narrowed at her. “I thought you said you didn’t believe in this curse, Talia.”

“I don’t.” She smirked. “You are alive, ergo, no curse.”

Fletch cleared his throat.

She held his stare for a moment before breaking, her fingers tapping on his abdomen. “Yet, I was not about to leave such an important matter as your life up to fate alone. Even a curse can be nudged.” She leaned forward, meeting his gaze. “But it was you that fought, Fletch. Fought for us. Fought to live. Dr. Terrental only gave you a path back. You did the rest.”

Fletch took a deep breath, the air filling his chest, only to have the motion cut short with a sudden pained cough. His hand went flat onto his chest. “Just what was it that Dr. Terrental did to me? My chest feels like a horse kicked me.”

“He beat your heart. Pounded it quite soundly. He said it had slowed to nothing, and it needed prodding.” Her hand waved. “Well, not in those exact terms, his were much more medical. Mr. Flemstone translated for me.”

“How did Dr. Terrental know what to do?”

“He didn’t know for certain, but he thought he could help when I asked him months ago after Mr. Flemstone introduced me to him. It was why I had him move in only steps away, so he could be here in seconds.” Talia shifted on the bed, tightening her hold along his hip. “I had been spending so much time with Mr. Flemstone in Louise’s room, that I started asking him questions about what he thought could have contributed to the deaths of your brother and father and grandfathers.

“He found the mystery of the curse interesting—and not at all scientific—so I asked him to speak with Aunt Penelope, and with any and every one that witnessed your brother, father or grandfathers’ deaths. Mr. Flemstone found enough commonality in their deaths that he introduced me to Dr. Terrental, a colleague of his at the Wotherfeld Hospital.”

“Why?”

“Through his interviews, Mr. Flemstone believed your brother, father and grandfather all died of a weak heart. No curse. Just temperamental hearts. He thought there would be a chance to save you, and Dr. Terrental is the leading physician of research on the heart and how blood moves through the body. He has been collecting everything and anything of value from doctors, physicians, surgeons, apothecaries—methods, medicines, herbs, battlefront practices—he collects the research and synthesizes the information to determine best options for saving lives.”

“Such as pulverizing my chest?”

She smiled. “Such as pulverizing your chest.”

“You never truly believed in the curse, did you, Talia? I thought you had changed your mind after Wellfork Castle.”

She shrugged. “I realized it didn’t matter whether the curse was real or not, I was still going to do everything in my power to save you.”

“And not tell me.”

Her head tilted, scolding. “Not let you talk me out of Dr. Terrental’s assistance. I was not about to lose you if I could alter the course of fate.”

A soft knock came from the door.

“Yes?” Talia asked.

“It is Reggard. We heard voices.”

“Come in,” Talia said, staying on the bed next to Fletch but turning to the entrance.

Reggard stepped in, closing the door behind him. His look found Fletch, and he visibly exhaled, relief in his eyes. “I apologize for the interruption, but I assumed you would want any additional worry eased, Talia, so I am to report your sister and Mr. Flemstone were married an hour ago, per your request.”

Talia inhaled a long breath, relief filling her chest. “Thank you. That does ease my worry.”

Reggard offered a slight smile. “I also know that Fletch will want to be assured that the other matter was taken care of.”

Talia’s eyes swung to Fletch.

He glanced from her to Reggard. “Roserton?”

Reggard nodded. “Caine and I dragged him off. It was made known to him—in no uncertain terms—that Talia will always be protected by the two of us as well. That every single threat you made to him would be executed, without mercy, should he decide to disregard your warning and so much as think about Talia and her family.”

Talia’s breath caught in her throat, gasping. She looked at Fletch, and then back to Reggard. “I—that you—”

Reggard offered a crooked smile. “We are family, Talia. Worry over a sniveling bastard like that never needs to be a part of your life again.”

She nodded, her throat too welled up in gratitude to speak.

“Well done, man,” Fletch said. “Thank you.”

With a nod, Reggard turned to exit. He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at them. “Oh, and you should know I broke his wrist.”

“You what?” Talia’s eyes went wide.

“That was retribution.” Reggard shrugged. “The pinky I broke of his was just because he is an arse of the highest order.”

Fletch chuckled. “Again. Well done, man.”

Reggard slipped out of the room.

Talia turned her attention back to Fletch. “You told them of Roserton, what he did, what he threatened?”

“I did.”

“But that is private, Fletch, what happened to Louise.”

“I understand, but Reggard and Caine are trusted—they will keep the confidence to the grave.”

She stared at him, her frown deepening.

Fletch sighed, his arm lifting to set his palm along her cheek. “I had to do it. You may not have wanted to imagine the possibility of me dying, Talia, but I had to consider it. What it would entail. I had to cover everything I could possibly think of to protect you, and that meant Caine and Reggard being privy to everything.” His fingers dropped, sliding down alongside her neck. “It is my right to take care of you without you knowing, Talia, just as you did for me.”

Her frown eased. “I cannot argue with that logic.”

“No, you cannot.”

He tugged at her neck and she leaned forward, setting her cheek onto his, the rough stubble on his jawline rubbing her skin. She inhaled, taking the scent of him into her chest, letting it fill her, warm her.

He was alive. Tremors still ran down her spine at how very close she had come to losing him. “Thank you for not dying.”

His jaw flexed against her cheek. “I died, Talia. I was gone.”

She inhaled sharply, his words instantly sending her body into a tremble.

He pulled his head from hers and captured her face between his hands, his fingers twining into her hair. His grey eyes found hers, his soul on full display. “I died. But then I heard your voice.”

“You did?”

“It was darkness, and then your voice, telling me to fight.”

“And you did.”

“Yes. I did. I promised I would. A promise you demanded of me.”

Her head dropped as tearless, silent sobs racked her body. Fletch’s hands slipped to the back of her head, his fingers weaving into her hair, a silent comfort.

It took minutes for her to hold her breathing in check. For her to look up at him. “Promise me. If that ever happens again, you will fight just the same. You will come back to me. You know you can do it now.” She smiled. “And I can beat your chest just as hard as Dr. Terrental, if needed.”

“I do not doubt it.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

He smiled, the curious, wondrous smile he reserved for her alone. “Now, Talia, about this child of mine you are carrying.”

A smile took over her face, took over the room, took over her husband.

“Yes, about that child. We have some planning to do, Fletch.”