Glorious Victorious Darcys 01.5 - His Broken Angel (3 page)

Lily had never believed in magic or miracles, but there was something undeniably wondrous about Doc Blue.

She had been chilled for three days, since the moment she’d regained consciousness—a chill that emanated from her core. Jasper had supplied a heat generator and plenty of blankets. The few times P.J. had been in this room she’d complained about the blistering temperature. Snoop had commented too. According to them, Lily should have been soaked with sweat and flushed from the heat. Instead, she’d battled the shivers and an incessant bone-deep cold. She was certain she’d never feel warm again.

She’d been wrong.

The wonder of it all muted her frustration.

“Your hands,” she ventured softly as the enigmatic doctor massaged her throbbing left calf. “Swear to heaven, I can feel heat seeping through my skin and into my blood.” She’d experienced the same sensation when he’d palmed her forehead, and again when he’d worked his hands over her broken leg. She’d also felt a queer tingling, but perhaps that was merely due to the circumstance. Lily had never been so intensely aware of a man in all her born days. “I suppose that sounds crazy.”

“Sounds accurate. Least-wise, that’s how others have described my touch—‘abnormally warm.’ Are you feeling a prickly vibration as well?”

“It’s more like a tingling.” So she wasn’t imagining the odd and intriguing sensations. For the first time since awakening in this nightmare, someone had distracted her from her own dilemma. Relief warred with curiosity. “Did you warm your hands on the heat generator? Rub stimulating ointment on your palms?”

“Comes naturally.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I call it HE. Short for
Healing Energy
.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s exclusive to me. As far as I know anyway. Aw, hell.”

Lily tensed at his troubled tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just need … Mind if I sit with you for a few minutes, Miss Gentry?”

Something
was
wrong. Lily heard it in his voice. But she sensed it had more to do with
him
than her. How old was he anyway? Did he fatigue easily? Was he injured in some way? A bum leg maybe?

If only she could see
.

“Of course not,” she said. “I mean, please do. There’s a chair somewhere. I’ve heard people sit in it.”

“You can hear people sit?” he asked as he stepped away.

“The legs of the chair scrape over the wood floor as they reposition it. And it must be rickety, because it groans and creaks under a body’s weight.”

“Mighty observant.”

Lily mourned the loss of the physician’s comforting touch, and yet, strangely, the blessed heat continued to radiate. She no longer felt chilled, which was a small mercy that made an amazing difference.

Hindered by darkness, Lily tapped in to her other senses. Her ears buzzed with the sound of Doc Blue pulling the chair closer to her bed. Then the familiar creaking and groaning of the seat giving way. She tried imagining Doc’s posture. Slumped? Ramrod straight? Her nostrils flared with the pleasing scent of bay rum and a hint of noxious petrol—a scent she associated with P.J. —scents Lily had detected the moment he’d entered her cabin.

Oh, yes, she’d been most aware of Doc Blue upon his arrival. And she had been most rude. She’d been brusque and spiteful to Jasper and his league as well, but she hadn’t cared. She’d been absorbed in her own misery and angry with them for initiating the disastrous attack.

Doc Blue had had nothing to do with the attack on the
Brittania
. He’d come from afar to help. He
had
helped. And he was her brother’s friend. He didn’t deserve her anger.

Chagrined, Lily blushed. “You’re a friend of Tuck’s,” she said softly. “You must be a person of fine repute.”

“Not so fine, not lately. But I do hope to make amends.”

She wondered at the weariness in his voice. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Just need to rest a moment. Rough flight from London. My pilot was … adventurous.”

“You’re referring to P.J.”

“How did you know?”

“Aside from you, I’ve had four visitors. Jasper, Patch, Snoop, and P.J. Every time P.J.’s in this room she boasts about her flying skills in some form or fashion. Jasper referred to her as fearless. Snoop thinks she’s reckless. Patch called her a glory seeker.”

“Being she’s a Darcy,” Doc said, “I’d venture all three descriptions apply.”

Lily furrowed her brow. “You think P.J. is one of
the
Darcys. The infamous Darcys? The ones related to the Time Voyager?”

“I know so.”

“Land sakes.” A blood relation of Briscoe Darcy, the nineteenth-century inventor who’d traveled to the future, ultimately enabling the twentieth-century Peace Rebels to travel back in time with the intent of altering history. They’d come preaching peace and ended up igniting a transcontinental war. Lily had heard the story over and over, and like all fantastic tales, the details often varied. One thing was certain: Even though Briscoe Darcy was stuck in the future, lots of Vics held him accountable for the Peace War as well as the existence of Freaks. “Living in the shadow of someone so famous must be a powerful burden.”

“You should know,” Doc said, “being the sister of the Sky Cowboy. Dime-novel hero turned notorious outlaw?”

“Wrongly accused,” Lily said. “Tuck didn’t murder that woman.”

“I know. Anyone who knows Tuck believes he’s innocent of that crime. That includes Queen Victoria.”

“What?” Even though she couldn’t see him, Lily shifted toward Doc’s voice. She rolled onto her side easily and with minimal discomfort.

Healing Energy
.

Her mind burst with a dozen questions regarding Doc Blue and his methods, but just now she focused on her brother. “I’ve been so worried what with Tuck living on the lam. Have you good news? Tell me of the queen. What do you mean?”

“Queen Victoria promised to make things right for Tuck with the American authorities.”

“She’s going to ensure he’s exonerated? Why would she do that?”

“Took a shine to him, I guess. Spoke to some of her people about his case and decided she believed him.”

“But … but how did they even meet?”

Doc shifted in his chair, hesitating. “Long and complicated story,” he finally said.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“According to my sources,” Doc said, “the queen also dispatched someone to ensure your safe passage to England. Although those arrangements had been delayed. How is it that you’re here now?”

Lily blinked. “I knew nothing of this arrangement.”

“Tuck informed you by Teletype and you responded.”

“I did not receive such news nor did I respond.” Lily’s heart pounded with fury. Had her so-called
caring
cousins interfered once more? She could not fathom their intent. Had they panicked when she’d disappeared? Were they buying time in hopes of finding her before Tuck learned she was missing? The only saving grace in their lie was that Tuck thought she was safe. “I made this journey under my own steam. All I know for true and certain is that I was desperate to reunite with my brother. To know he thrived. I’ve been so worried. I …” She palmed her chest. “Do you truly believe he’ll be vindicated?”

“I do.”

Lily’s mind whirled. Her brother … free at last. Free to return home. To America. Free to police the skies in his airship
Maverick
and to track and capture dangerous criminals. Free to resume the life he loved as a United States Air Marshal, t o serve and protect the masses.

All the more reason not to burden Tuck with the daunting care of a stone-blind sister
.

Mood dipping, Lily struggled to understand her precise circumstance and options as Doc Blue stood and, for the second time, palmed her forehead. His touch ignited additional heat, more tingling. Swear to heaven, she’d never felt anything like it. Who,
what
was this man?

“Jasper implied he didn’t want to tempt my brother’s wrath. I guess that’s why he didn’t make Tuck aware of my circumstance. So why did he reach out to you, Tuck’s physician? Someone who could and most probably would alert my brother of my whereabouts and condition?”

“I’m Jasper’s brother,” Doc said.

Lily blinked. Her mind raced. “So you’re—”

“A Freak.”

“Oh.” Before Jasper, she’d never met a Freak. Then again, she’d never met a Chinaman or an Eskimo either. All sorts of folk, of various race and religion, populated the world. It didn’t make any one better than the other.

“Just ‘oh?’ ”

She’d purposely schooled her expression while sorting through her thoughts. She’d heard some mighty ugly talk regarding minorities, especially Freaks. No doubt this man was used to snap, harsh judgments. Lily was merely intrigued.

“That would explain your mysterious methods,” she said, “and the reason HE is exclusive to you. It’s not magic. It’s a supernatural phenomenon.”

“Mmm.”

“What an extraordinary gift,” Lily said in true awe. She knew Jasper possessed the strength of ten men, maybe more. P.J., who seemed smitten with the man, had made a point of relaying how Jasper had moved steel and iron to rescue Lily from the mangled
Britannia
.

“Jasper risked his life, fighting assailants one-handed, in order to haul you off that listing rig,”
the aviatrix had said.
“He deviated from our escape route in order to provide you with immediate medical attention. And since we refused to abandon our leader, that means every member of our core squad, including me, put your safety ahead of our own. You could at least do us the courtesy of trying to thrive.”

P.J.’s rant had failed to elicit sympathy or appreciation from Lily. She was not impressed in any form or fashion with Jasper and his rebel squad. She was, however, most impressed with Doc Blue.

“What do you look like?” she blurted.

“Excuse me?”

“I’d feel better if I had a visual sense of you.” Lily scrambled for an explanation beyond her shallow curiosity. “It’s disconcerting, not seeing who’s treating me.”

Doc Blue shifted his ministrations, loosening the bandages around her ribcage. “Can’t say I feel comfortable describing myself.”

“Can’t say I feel comfortable, period,” Lily whispered, then felt compelled to add, “and it has nothing to do with the nature of your birth.” Cheeks burning, she fought to temper her erratic pulse as the supernatural healer placed his hands over her bruised, bare flesh. HE seared through her skin, but it was the man who melted her senses. Though the physician’s palms spanned her ribs, his fingers rested close to the undersides of her breasts. A chaste woman, Lily had never known the intimate touch of a man. That moment her imagination ran amok pondering what other kinds of magic Doc Blue worked with his hands.

“Nothing personal,” he said as though reading her mind.

All the same her heart fluttered like a besotted twit’s. She bit her lower lip, afraid to speak, afraid of saying something stupid. Were his hands the sole channel for HE? What of his mouth? Could he kiss her and make her all better? “Oh, God.”

“Please try to bear it, Miss Gentry. The longer the contact, the deeper the treatment.”

Lily frowned, realizing he’d mistaken her fascination for fear. As a Freak, he was probably used to being rejected.

On a whim, Lily reached down and placed her hands over Doc Blue’s. Her pulse tripped and another sort of tingle coursed through her body and centered at her intimate juncture. Taken aback by the keen rush of desire, Lily tempered scandalous thoughts regarding the man hovering over her. Good sense and decorum dictated she pull away. Instead, she slid her palms up and clasped his forearms.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice tense.

“Getting a visual sense of you.” She’d never been so forward with a man. Did he think she was flirting?
Was
she flirting? “I’m imagining a fit physique,” she said. “Your hands are large and your forearms muscular, though not overly bulky. When you entered the room, your footfall was not as heavy as Jasper’s or Snoop’s, but not as light as P.J.’s. I wager your height and build somewhere between intimidating and inconsequential.”

He laughed a little, and her heart danced. “I’ve not met Snoop,” he said, “but Jasper trumps me in bulk and Miss Darcy, as you guessed, is a wisp of a thing. Physically, anyway. So, yes, I am somewhere in between.”

“Average height and build,” she said, itching but not daring to extend her touch to his shoulders, his face …

“Not overly short or tall. A mite lanky maybe, but solid. Fair skin. Blond, almost white, hair. Bad haircut. Short. Choppy.”

She smothered a smile. “How old?”

“Twenty-one.”

Only a few years older than her eighteen. Given his confidence and demeanor, she had guessed him older. “What are you wearing?”

“Trousers. Shirt.”

“Details, Doc Blue. Please.” Self-conscious now, Lily released her hold on the man and clasped her hands together to still their trembling. Why the devil was she trembling? “What color are your trousers? What style? Do you fancy cowboy attire, or a conventional suit? Somehow I don’t picture you in bell-bottoms and love beads, so ModVic is out. Humor me, doctor. How can I paint you if I don’t know what you look like?”

“Why would you want to paint me?”

His guarded tone stopped her cold. For a scant second, her imagination had sparked back to life and for the first time in days, color had blossomed in her desolate world. A solid and vivid image had formed in her mind’s eye. She’d imagined Doc Blue as clearly as if she were actually
seeing
him.

But then he’d questioned her motive. Reality muscled whimsy aside and Lily’s world tilted back toward the dark side. Instead of a kind and strong physician—a compassionate healer—Lily envisioned a killing machine. A menacing figure with weapons on his arms—no, weapons where his arms
should
be. It made no sense, yet she could see bullets spraying out of his hands—no, an iron barrel. Endless sparks of fiery red. Chaos. Destruction.

Evil
.

A chill iced down Lily’s spine as a river of blood exploded in her mind’s eye. Horrified, she turned inward, toward the darkness. But the river gushed toward her.