Eighteen - Outcast

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Man and wife slunk in through the servants entrance. With Mia still tossed over his shoulder. William carried them back to his chamber with long determined strides. Ignoring the guffaws and blatant stares of the staff members. The rumour mill will be busy tonight, he thought briefly.

Nancy's jaw dropped as she mumbled a stupefied  "m'lady?"

Having accepted her current fate, Mia groaned and buried her face into her arms. Trying to hide herself away from the embarrassment. Feeling each muscle of his body flex and relax beneath her as he moved. He was a wonderful specimen of a man, she'd give him that. But unbelievably, her husband had come after her. The thought wouldn't stop repeating itself in her mind. Nor would his last words in the alleyway erase themselves. Instead, they haunted her like an echo.

George emerged from one of the hallways, having felt a scandalous disturbance in the peace, and with a knowing smile on his face as his eyes followed them. "How goes the leg-shackled business?" He quipped, a teasing tone lacing his voice.

William growled and walked up the stairs. Throwing his brother a dirty look. Otherwise, ignoring his sibling. George saw the mortified expression on Mia's face and his grin widened at her. Offering her a cheery salute, and a mischievous wink, he skipped back to where he had come from. No doubt to share the gossip with Charles. He really was a typical little girl sometimes, he thought with a smirk.

"Sit." William kicked the door shut behind him and dropped Mia unceremoniously onto the bed.

She landed with a soft whoosh of air amongst the mattress. William rang the bell for the chambermaid as he faced away and began undressing. His clothes dirty and bloodied, made him itch. He ripped off his cravat and waistcoat, unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

Mia's face had turned a beetroot red as she averted her gaze upon seeing him loosening his state of dress. There was a wash basin in the room to which William rinsed his hands and face of dried and stubborn dirt. He hissed in pain as water aggravated his busted knuckle. A faint telltale pink tinge mixing into the running water.

Blood.

William popped his head around the bedroom door when the maid knocked. He asked for a hot bath to be run. Mia sighed heavily as she listened in. I do not ken why I am bothered enough to do this, but, she thought as her feet led her towards him. He didn't move as she appeared at his side. She asked for strong alcohol and a gauze to be sent up with a bowl of hot water.

The maid was swift on her feet and reappeared with the requested items, her eyes curious but her mouth silent. William had retreated to sitting on the bed as Mia closed the door. He watched as she approached him, and carefully laid out the items beside him. She reached out and gently took his injured hand in her small one.

The touch ignited an avalanche of nerves within her. It had been the first gesture of its kind betwixt them. It was so lacking in racy passion that it seemed somehow even more intimate and genuine.

"This will sting a little, bare with it, my lord." She mumbled, her voice suddenly losing itself, as she began to cleanse the open wound with the water.

He obliged her with a grunt. A language she had long come to understand from these men of the same blood. Zebediah was much the same. Their likeness subtle, but there nonetheless.

William gritted his teeth and restrained a pained hiss, when she sterilised the wound with the alcohol and began the process of wrapping it up with the gauze. She worked quickly and efficiently, her movements practiced and yet somehow still soft and tender. His eyes studied her face, brows furrowed with concentration, grey eyes dark and focused. She bit the inside of her cheeks as she worked, an endearing habit, he couldn't help but think.

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