He sat back, shocked. “You feared that I might hurt you.”
“I couldn’t be sure. As I said, I don’t meet many men,” she explained. “But, mostly, I was afraid that you might tell someone about me, and then have me taken to an asylum. You would mean well, and probably believe it was for my own good, but I would be dragged from my home and locked away like a prisoner.”
“That doesn’t happen anymore.”
“Really? What do you think people do with orphaned blind girls, Captain Neill?” When he didn’t reply, she answered for him, “Straight to the asylum, where I’d be starved, beaten, and raped repeatedly.”
“You’re a bit old to be an orphan.”
“But I’m still a woman, blinded and alone in the world. They lock ladies away for less every day.”
His voice trembled. He clearly found the topic unsettling. “Who taught you to be so afraid?”
“No one in particular, but I’m no fool. I know a little bit of how the world treats unfortunate, disadvantaged souls like myself.”
“So you live your days in hiding, always fearing the asylum.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I wish you wouldn’t. Now that the war is over, there are a great many more people who are unfortunate and disadvantaged. You might find the world far more accepting than you were led to believe.”
Angelica chewed this over. What if Captain Neill was right? He treated her normally, when she had fully expected him to be shocked at the sight of her. Perhaps other people now felt the same. Surely, they didn’t put gas-blinded war heroes, or soldiers who’ve had their eyes blown out into shameful asylums.
She wasn’t about to step out into the lane, and walk down to the village any time soon. But, perhaps, someday. “You’ve given me hope, Captain Neill. Thank you.”
He smiled as he said, “I’m glad. If I can do anything to repay your kindness, you’ve only to ask.”
CHAPTER TEN
Her eyes were translucent, like blue sea glass. Brody had never met a woman like her—sighted or otherwise. He had certainly not expected her to be so beautiful, with skin as pale and thin as paper, and hair so black it looked like ink pouring down her shoulders. But, damn, those eyes…
They haunted him.
Brody wanted to tell her these things, to somehow adequately describe to a sightless girl how breathtakingly beautiful she was. But it wouldn’t mean anything to her. He might as well have described a sunrise, or some other intangible miracle of God. Words were not enough. A mortal man could never make her see beauty, but he desperately longed to make her feel it.
He wanted, more than anything, to take her into his arms. To kiss her violently, until she clung to him. To give her anything—everything—she desired. She was like a vine, creeping through his veins, twisting around his heart, and squeezing. Squeezing until it hurt. His desire for her was sudden and fanatical. His love for her was painful.
Love. Surely, this was love. Or, perhaps, obsession. Brody did not know or care. His heart was enslaved to her, and he could do nothing but sit and stare at the unfixed, impossibly blue eyes of his shadow-angel.
“…Captain Neill…”
He snapped back to reality, suddenly aware that she’d given up talking. Damn. He hadn’t been listening. Instead, he’d sat there, panting at her like some cretin, fixated on her like the addict he was.
“Captain Neill, are you unwell?” Her dark brows furrowed in concern.
Brody licked his chapped lips. “I’m here—er—I’m fine.”
She laughed, understanding finally dawning on her. “You weren’t listening.”
“I’m sorry.” He laughed, too. What a nervous fool he was! “I was distracted watching you speak. You’re rather a lot to take in, you know.”
“No, I’m talking too much, and making you tired. You should be resting, not listening to me prattle on.”
Miss Grey started to rise from her chair, but he stopped her. “Please don’t go.”
“You don’t have to be polite…”
“I’m not.” His voice was sharp—sharper than he’d intended. She sat back, frightened by the force of it. Brody blew out a breath, and said, softly this time, “I need you here. You’re the only one who can keep the demons away.”
“Captain Neill, I’m not doing anything except distracting you.”
Brody reached forward to take her pale, cold hand in his. “I know. And you don’t know what a blessing that is. For years, I have done anything to keep my mind from going back to the trenches. Anything to forget the faces of the men who’d fallen around me. To dull any memories of those dreadful, endless days.” He shuddered from the weight of it all. “I’m a sick man, Miss Grey. If either of us is bound for the asylum, I’m the one who ought to be locked away.”