Page 10 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Nine

“ W illiams?” Rhys said, even though somewhere, deep inside of him, he knew very well that this wasn’t Williams.

Unless Williams had a feminine, gentle slope to his shoulder.

A chin that, at this angle, no longer hidden by a cap, showcased a beautiful face, although one marred by rain which had dirtied it. Whether that was mud or soot or some kind of makeup that streaked those cheeks, Rhys wasn’t sure.

Dark hair was half caught in a plait, half trailing over bare shoulders. Then there were those long eyelashes over violet eyes that were far too familiar.

Worst of all was the red mark growing in size along her ribs and up beneath that binding.

“I thought you were gone,” was all he – she? – said while still struggling with the wet clothing.

“I came back,” he said foolishly, as his mind, gut, and emotions were all at war inside of him.

Finally, he could ignore the truth no longer, as much as he really, truly wanted to .

“Emmaline?”

Silence reigned for a moment.

“Bollocks.”

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

His words were senseless. It was very obvious what she was doing here, but he couldn’t believe it.

How had he been so stupid, so unobservant?

He was the leader of this team, and yet, he had allowed someone within who had no business being here.

Who might only prove to destroy this team.

Who had intentionally, specifically, deceived him.

“I am changing my clothing. Or at least, I am trying to.”

She tried to tug her arm out again, but her wet clothing had no give. He had no idea yet what to do about the discovery he had just made, but he acted on instinct before he could form any decisions.

“Here,” he said gruffly, crossing the room, stilling her movements when he placed one hand on her bare forearm, the other on the fabric. “Don’t move.”

As gently as he could given her injury and the fact that she was, he now knew, a woman, he stripped the cold, wet cotton from her arm before pulling the entirety of the shirt up and over her head, leaving her sitting there in nothing but the fabric that was tied tightly around her chest.

Her eyes were wider than he had ever seen them before, her lip stuck between both rows of even, white teeth.

“Rhys—” she began, but he held up a hand.

“Stop.”

“I need to explain.”

“I-I can’t be in here with you.”

And yet, there he remained, feet rooted to the floor.

She stood, lifting her hands at the side in a gesture of disbelief before she reached over and took a dry shirt, easily pulling this one over her head, hiding her skin as well as that devilish bruise .

“There. All proper now.”

“Everything about this,” he circled his finger around the room, “is far from proper. If we were found in here together?—”

“Rhys, I have been playing on the football team for weeks now. I hardly think that us being here together is the most scandalous aspect of the situation.”

He placed his hands over his face for a moment to try to calm himself. How had he not seen this? Her slender body, one that on Williams, he had considered to be slight, but had not realized was strong, toned. Her face, angular as Williams, was now softer, more feminine.

And those eyes… he realized now that was what had partially concerned him about Williams. He had never looked him in the eyes.

Now he knew why.

“I knew something was off,” he said, shaking his head, backing up a step for every one that she took toward him.

“I should have trusted my gut. Never should have let you onto this team. And then the whole time you’re flirting with me as yourself, leading me on – and for what?

To try to throw me off track of who you truly are? ”

Her brow furrowed, and he knew that he had gone too far, but it crushed him that she would deceive him, spend so much time lying to him like this.

“Of course not,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, and now he couldn’t get the image of her smooth, creamy white skin out of his mind. “You and I together have nothing to do with this.”

“Nothing?” he scoffed. “Emmaline, it has everything to do with it. You and I… well, there is no you and I. Not when you disguised yourself to sneak into my football club.”

“Oh, Rhys, come off it,” she countered. “I did nothing but wear men’s clothing and play some football.”

“And take on a fake name and identity.”

“Perhaps. But still, I hurt no one in the process.”

“No?” he said incredulously. “How about the men who had the true right to a place on this team, who I let go?”

“I was obviously better than them if you decided on me.”

He continued his rant as though he hadn’t heard her. “Then there’s the men who you played with, whose livelihoods you put in danger.”

“How so?” she said, outrage growing on her face.

“What if they had hurt you? One of them did! There’s already a bruise growing on your ribs.”

His heart had been beating hard ever since he had seen it, and it had yet to let up.

“Men and women bruise the same.”

“Yes, but if it ever came out that they hurt a woman?—”

“How could that be anyone’s fault?” she said, throwing her arms out wide to the side. “This is all ridiculous. You know the truth, now, Rhys, so the question is, what are you going to do about it?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. He hadn’t been able to yet overcome the hurt he felt at her deception, as well as his own stupidity for not realizing it himself.

She had even put his reputation at stake.

“I vouched for you,” he said, lifting a finger to point it at her, but he lowered it when he saw that it was shaking in anger. “I told the club committee that you would be a good fit for our team, and now—now I find out that you’re… you’re… you .”

“So eloquent.”

“Emmaline!”

“Well, as it happens, Rhys, I am tired and cold and my ribs hurt. If you are done feeling sore about this, can I go now? I assume that I am not welcomed back.”

“I—” He didn’t know what to say. Of course she couldn’t continue playing, but the thought of her walking out that door and hating him forever also didn’t sit right with him. “Let me take a look at your ribs.”

“I’m fine.”

“They didn’t look fine,” he said in a softer tone. “Please, Emmaline?”

She paused for a moment, obviously hearing the sincerity in his tone, for her shoulders dropped and she let down her guard.

“Fine,” she said. “But be quick about it.”

He nodded then motioned to the bench in front of him.

She took a seat and slowly lifted the hem of her shirt, one inch at a time, until he could properly see the injury.

There wasn’t much he could do but assess it, which he hoped would encourage her to show it to someone with more medical acumen.

He pushed around the outside of the bruise, on the bone, but nothing happened. It wasn’t until he prodded the bruise as he followed the bone that she let out a yelp.

He continued to poke around onto the bruised area.

“Does it hurt more on the bone, or equally beside it?”

“The entire area hurts,” she said, gasping, and he nodded, satisfied.

“I believe you bruised yourself, although it is a bad one,” he said, “but you shouldn’t need any additional treatment.”

“Are you a physician now?” she asked, lifting a brow as she looked back over her shoulder at him, and he couldn’t help but pick up a cloth, lean over her, and wipe her face.

“Basically,” he said. “If you ever have a problem, you know where to come.”

“Somehow I’m not sure that you are properly qualified.”

“I’ve fixed a great deal of aches and sprains. Had more than a few of my own. Rest it. Put ice on it, if you can.”

“Ice? ”

“A physician once told me it can help with injuries. I’ve tried it a few times. He was right.”

“Are you still upset with me?” she asked, her lips curling up into a hint of that beautiful smile she possessed.

“You lied to me,” he said, nearly cursing as he realized how vulnerable he was with her, allowing her to see why he was annoyed.

“I had to,” she said, blinking. “You would never have allowed me to play.”

“Of course not.”

“And just why should I not ?”

“Because,” he said stupidly, before attempting to provide further eloquence, as she so put it, “you’re a woman.”

“That’s not a reason. I’m just as good as half of those men, Rhys, and you know it.”

“You’re slow.”

“I’m working on it,” she said through gritted teeth, standing now and gathering all of her clothing in a cloth bag. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going.”

“Can’t miss teatime,” he couldn’t help but impart as she stormed by him.

As he watched her go, he considered that of all he was feeling, what bothered him the most was his regret.

Emmaline did not last long at home.

After a proper bath, which finally warmed her after the cold had soaked through to her bones, she gingerly dressed with help from her maid, who was absolutely appalled at the bruising on her ribs.

“I fell down the stairs,” Emmaline lied. Her maid nodded, although she didn’t appear to completely believe the excuse.

Emmaline sat in the parlor and tried to read, but stayed there only a few minutes before she stood up, her eyes falling on her mother’s desk, and she began to work on some of the brochures her mother had left her to help prepare for her next rally.

That also failed to keep her attention for more than a few minutes.

Upon peering into the gardens to see that the rain had passed by, leaving a slight mist and beautiful rain clouds in its wake, Emmaline found her cloak and decided to go for a stroll.

A stroll that found her heading out of her family’s property toward Lily’s, where she intended to tell her friend all that occurred, specifically how very vexed she was with a certain captain who held far too many opinions.

Ill opinions that she disagreed with.