Page 23 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)
CHAPTER 23
H astings sauntered into the dining room whistling. He’d been in a fine mood all afternoon, ever since Stephen had kissed Madelyn. He’d nearly fallen off the wall when Stephen grabbed her and kissed her. He thought he might have to intervene because Madelyn hadn’t struck him as the kind of woman who appreciated being grabbed and kissed, but he needn’t have worried. She grabbed back on to Stephen and gave as good as she got.
Hastings had quietly left them to it. He’d been surprisingly unbothered at the development. Stephen wanted to be kissed? Well, Hastings could do that, too. After that moment in the maze, Hastings knew Stephen was more than willing to kiss him. He’d imagined kissing Stephen a thousand different ways, so they still had nine hundred and ninety-nine to go. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known Stephen was attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? She was damned beautiful, and intelligent, and sharp-witted. As he liked to remind them, Stephen was only a man, not a saint.
Hastings was not discouraged by their kiss. He thought he’d be jealous of the two of them. Had been just a day or two ago. But he didn’t mind the two of them kissing now. It was what Madelyn wanted, what she’d been worried Hastings was going to ruin for her. And Hastings understood . He knew exactly what she was feeling. This place, Stephen, it got to you. When you came from nothing, had nothing, had no one, and suddenly you were plunked down right in the middle of heaven, well, you wanted your piece of it, didn’t you? He couldn’t deny her that. She deserved it as much as he did. They were the same, he and Madelyn. They both were searching for something, and they’d found it here. But they also knew that what they’d found here, in Stephen, could only be theirs for a short time.
Oddly, by kissing Madelyn in front of Hastings, by not excluding him or doing it in secret, Stephen had made him a part of what was happening between them. And if Stephen wanted her, well then Hastings wanted her for him. It wasn’t just what Madelyn deserved, but Stephen, too. It added one more layer to this strange reality he found himself in. And, if he was completely honest with himself, he wasn’t averse to sharing the space in Stephen’s bed, as well as his affections.
Seeing the two of them kissing had aroused Hastings. He wasn’t surprised. He was drawn to them both, so it only made sense. All around them people were having such love affairs. Why not them? But it was too soon to tell if Stephen and Madelyn wanted the same thing. That question had been going round and round through his head as he’d raced Bronny across the harvested fields and sheep meadows. He’d learned to jump the low, stone walls, and it never failed to thrill him, making his heart pound with excitement.
“What are you so happy about?” Essie asked sourly.
“What are you so sour about?” he asked.
“These two were kissing in the garden,” Essie said, waving a finger between Madelyn and Stephen. “And I caught them.”
“You really, truly have the most horrible timing of any person I’ve ever met,” Hastings told her, shaking his head as he sank into his seat. Madelyn and Stephen were both blushing and refused to meet his eyes. “Did you tattle on all the other children when you were younger? Is that why you have no friends?”
“Ha!” Essie said triumphantly, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. “You knew. She said you were there, but I thought you’d left before the kissing began.”
“Once again, my whereabouts in regard to any kissing are none of your business.”
“Yes, exactly,” Madelyn said, crossing her arms, mirroring Essie across the table from her. “In regard to me and kissing, you also have no business in it.”
Hastings shook his head as he frowned at her. Sometimes the way she phrased things was damned odd. Must have something to do with those lady lessons she took. Hastings was beginning to think old Bleecker had been swindled by some old lady who knew as much about being a lady as he did about being a gentleman. But she did look irresistibly militant as she glared at Essie.
Mrs. Tulane marched in and set the serving plate on the table with a loud thump. “And I think that’s enough talk of kissing at the dining room table, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Matthews?”
Stephen was pinching the bridge of his nose as he was wont to do when he had a headache. “Indeed, Mrs. Tulane, perhaps just for a few minutes we could concentrate on the lovely meal you’ve made.”
“Humph,” she said, stalking out.
“It is a lovely meal,” Hastings called after her. “I could have eaten at the pub, but I wouldn’t do a thing like that and miss your cooking.”
Mrs. Tulane bustled back in bearing a plate of bread, all smiles. “Aren’t you sweet?” she said to Hastings, setting the bread down next to him. “As if they could feed you properly at the pub.” She tsked and patted his shoulder.
“Yes, thank you for a lovely supper, Mrs. Tulane,” Madelyn said politely. She sounded like someone’s great aunt again, and Mrs. Tulane sniffed and stalked back to the kitchen.
Madelyn shook her head. “I just don’t understand why she doesn’t like me,” she said. “If she weren’t feeding us all from the same plate, I’d worry about poison.”
There was a gasp of outrage from the kitchen and Madelyn had the sense to look alarmed.
“It’s a territorial thing,” Essie said, taking a large helping of meat and potatoes from the platter. “She’s a woman who has been in charge here for many years, and she fears the arrival of another woman and the loss of her power here.”
“Then why doesn’t she fear you?” Madelyn asked. Essie cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Do I look like someone who will take another woman’s power away?” she asked.
“She’ll come around,” Hastings said, taking some warm bread from the plate beside him. He passed it to Stephen, but not before taking another long sniff of the delicious smell of fresh baked bread. He’d never known the joy of that.
He watched as Madelyn very carefully took a helping of dinner. He could see her calculating exactly how much she could take and still leave enough so as to avoid any unpleasantness. It was how she’d eaten since her arrival. He knew she wanted to take it all and hoard what she didn’t eat. She’d been hungry—many times. He recognized the look of it. She was too skinny, anyway. The brown and cream dress she wore was very becoming on her, with her pale skin and hair those blue eyes, but it couldn’t disguise how thin she was.
“Take some more,” he told her when she stopped after a pitiful amount.
“I couldn’t,” she said, lowering her hands to her lap. “It’s fine. I’m not that hungry.”
He reached over and took the platter and then doubled the amount of food on her plate. “Whatever you don’t eat, I’ll finish,” he told her, and then filled his own plate.
Stephen was watching them, his elbows on the table, hands folded in front of him, chin resting against them. “Yes,” he said, lowering his hands and fussing with the napkin in his lap. “We have plenty. I’m sure Mrs. Tulane has more in the kitchen.”
“Where were you today?” Hastings asked Essie.
“I was scouting around, a few miles out in every direction,” she said. “There’s too many places to hide around here. I don’t like it.”
Madelyn had been happily eating, but at Essie’s comment she set her fork down. Hastings frowned. “Eat,” he told her, and she picked up her fork again.
“Perhaps in the short term,” Hastings said. “But not for a real ambush, not here. Too many people out and about, nowhere to eat or sleep or take care of business without giving yourself away. Remember, I’ve been here for a while. I’ve learned the lay of the land, and the habits of the people.” He took a bite and savored the salty mutton. “The most they could do is hide themselves for a minute or two to prevent discovery. No, if they’re going to come, they’ll do it boldly or in the dead of night.”
Madelyn put her fork down again. “Boldly, I think. Most of his people believe themselves invincible despite being proven wrong again and again.” She paused. “But that’s Bleecker’s men. I don’t know about the ones that others may send. They may be more…experienced.”
“So am I,” Hastings told her with a smile. “I’ve killed my share of men like that, and I can take care of any more they may send.” He pointed to her plate. “Eat.”
She watched him for a second and he could see the moment she decided to trust him. Her face cleared and she picked up her fork and began to eat again. Hastings didn’t bother to examine the satisfaction he felt at both her trust and her eating. It had nothing to do with any feelings he may or may not have for her. He was here to take care of her, after all, and that was what he was going to do. It was his job.
He felt Stephen’s eyes on him, and he glanced up and caught his gaze. Heat flashed between them. And that , Hastings thought, is my reward .