A Hint of Scandal (8 page)

“Thank you, Miss Tichley,” he said, finally complying with her request to be seated. In truth, he did not think he could remain standing for much longer. “And I would also like to send a note to my sister-in-law, if I may. I need to know how my nephew fares.”

“Of course, your grace. I shall return momentarily with quill and ink. Please stay still,” she cautioned as she left the room.

He looked paler, if that was possible, when she returned moments later with the writing implements. Placing the paper, quill, and inkpot on the tiny desk by the window, Bella cast a quick look at the pallid man seated on her bed.
Good Lord
, she thought,
he is a duke!
She had been caring for the Duke of Westlake all this time.

He rose slowly and took a few steps toward the desk. Bella moved to his side to help steady him. She became suddenly aware that he was quite tall.

Without speaking, for he was feeling thoroughly ill, Westlake wrote two short missives: one to his mother and one to Margaret, his sister-in-law. He then wrote the directions on each note before sanding and folding them.

Bella stepped forward, silently offering to help him back to the bed. Even though it was only a few steps it took
some moments for them to traverse the distance. Bella stayed quiet. It was obvious that the duke was an exceedingly proud man, demonstrated by his attempt to get up and dress himself. Bella, though wanting to help, did not want to cause him further embarrassment by calling attention to the fact that he needed assistance.

Once he was seated, Bella hesitated before him. Now that he was fully conscious, the matter of his care was a different proposition.

Coming to a decision, Bella took the matter in hand. “You must rest, your grace. I will send my younger brother, Tommy, to help you undress. Please lie back. I will have your letters sent immediately,” she said softly yet firmly before turning to the desk to pick up his letters.

When she turned back, she found him lying against the pillows, already slipping once more into sleep.

After quietly closing the door on the exhausted duke, Bella moved quickly to the front room, where Papa and Tommy were reading.

“Tommy! You must go to the Park at once and have one of our uncle’s men deliver these letters immediately,” she directed, deciding that she could send Tommy to attend the duke when he returned.

“Yes, Bella, I will depart at once,” Tommy told his sister, jumping up from his chair.

“How may I help, my dear?” her papa questioned, setting aside his paper.

“Would you mind riding over to Dr. Pearce’s home and asking him to come this afternoon or first thing in the morning?”

“Not in the least,” he replied, rising from his comfortable chair. “Have you finally discovered the identity of our unknown guest?”

“Yes!” Bella practically burst out. “He is the Duke of Westlake!”

“The Duke of Westlake!” Papa and Tommy exclaimed in unison, looking at each other in great surprise.

“No wonder he has such a remarkable horse,” Tommy remarked.

“The Duke of Westlake,” her papa said again. “I would certainly like to have a look at his library.”

Bella laughed at that. “Off with you both while I prepare lunch.”

It was several hours later when Bella entered her room with a neatly arranged tray and smiled at her patient. It was odd, but now that he was awake he seemed much too large for her bed. She took note that his skin was very pale and his eyes still had that slightly glassy, feverish look. Upon closer inspection, she noticed green flecks in the gray irises around his pupils. She found his eyes quite striking.

But his jaw was now clean-shaven and his hair neatly combed. She thought he looked much more comfortable in one of her papa’s soft lawn nightshirts.

“I must say that your little brother makes a very good valet,” the duke stated with a grin, running his hand over his smooth jaw.

“I am certainly glad that you did not nick yourself.” She smiled and set the tray next to the bed. “Do you think you could eat a little something, your grace?”

That voice. Velvet music to my ears
, he thought.

He did feel like eating, but refused to let her feed him. He found it annoying that so simple a task could prove so arduous. But the thick vegetable stew was satisfying and he ate slowly.

“Tommy has informed me that our uncle has dispatched two messengers with your notes,” Bella told him after seating herself in the rocking chair. “My uncle is also sending for the constable so that you may describe your attackers. It is no wonder we could not locate anyone who was looking for you, for Tilbourne is miles and miles away. Your people were probably checking all the villages between Autley and Tilbourne for you. Your horse carried you a great distance away from your original destination,” she observed.

“Yes, he did, to my very good luck,” the duke told her quietly.

After having heard the whole story earlier from Tommy—of how they had found him and dragged him indoors, and how Bella had removed the ball from his shoulder—Westlake was at even more of a loss as to how to
express his appreciation. And he found it humbling that the Tichley family had no desire for his gratitude.

“You have a very good cook,” he complimented, instead of trying to thank her again, and placed the bowl back on the tray.

Bella laughed in surprise. “I am the cook, sir, and thank you,” she said as she began to tidy the room.

Glancing up at her in surprise, Alex felt unexpectedly ashamed of himself. What a bufflehead he was, he thought self-deprecatingly. His innate good manners caused him guilt because of the extra work he knew he was causing her. As he continued to watch her activities, Alex wondered how he would ever begin to repay her and her family for their kindness to him.

“There,” Bella said, patting the neatly folded blanket at the foot of his bed. “Is there anything else I can get for you at the moment, sir?”

“No. You do too much, Miss Tichley.”

Bella decided to ignore his remark and came around the bed to feel his forehead for fever. Westlake had the sudden desire to take her cool, slim hand and hold it against his cheek.

“You are a little warm. Will you rest now, sir?”

Though it was only early afternoon, he felt it had already been a long day. “Yes,” he said, leaning back against the pillows.

At the door, she turned and looked at him. He was a surprisingly handsome man, she thought for the first time. His features now seemed completely different than they had while he had been unconscious. She saw that his gray-green eyes were almost silver in the firelight. There was also a new, lordly air about him. This was emphasized by the slight rogue’s smile he wore as he lounged back on her bed.

“Dignitate cum laudanum,”
she whispered, and then realizing she had said the words aloud, she quickly left the room.

Westlake stared at the closed door.
“Dignitate cum laudanum,”
he repeated the words to himself. Latin had not been his favorite subject at school, and it took him some minutes to work it out.

Dignity and… peace? No. Dignity with …? Suddenly he smiled. So that was her image of him:
Leisure with dignity.
It was a surprise to find his beautiful nurse was also a scholar.

I
t was very early the next morning when Dr. Pearce drove up to the house in a small gig.

“I hear from your father that the crisis has passed with our patient,” he said as soon as Bella opened the door to him.

“Yes, his grace’s fever broke last night. He has eaten a little and seems vastly improved,” she responded as the doctor moved past her to stand in the middle of the room.

“Does he? We shall see,” he stated cryptically.

Bella followed the doctor up to her room, where they found the duke already sitting up in bed.

“Your grace, may I present Dr. Pearce?”

“How do you do, Dr. Pearce? Shall I live?” the duke questioned with cheerful irreverence.

A little nonplussed at the duke’s attitude, Dr. Pearce stuttered for a moment, casting a quizzical glance to Bella.

Bella shrugged slightly, and smiled. Since the duke had come out of his fever, she, too, was finding him a surprise.

“Well, we shall see, your grace. Let’s have a look at you.”

Dr. Pearce helped Westlake remove his nightshirt. He then retrieved a pair of scissors from his black bag and proceeded to cut away the bandages wrapping the duke’s shoulder.

Bella stood back and watched with her hands clasped
tightly together, wincing as the doctor probed the ugly, swollen wound with none-too-gentle fingers.

“Humph,” the doctor grunted, continuing his examination.

Bella could not help but marvel at the duke’s tolerance for pain, for she recoiled at the doctor’s attentions more than he did.

Just when she was about to lose control and shout out to the physician to be careful, he finally sat back and gave the duke an assessing look.

“Well, it certainly could be worse, but I have seen a lot better,” he said. “I don’t like the amount of swelling, and by the looks of the bandages, the wound has been seeping. But there does not seem to be any obvious infection.”

The duke nodded his understanding to what the doctor was saying. Looking past Dr. Pearce, Westlake was struck by Bella’s concerned expression. Most of the ladies of his acquaintance would be reaching for the hartshorn by now, he thought, unaccountably touched by her gentle and unexpected kindness.

“You must have complete rest for another full week, at least. You are still feverish, which may be due to being out in the storm. I’d be happier if you rested a fortnight, but I have the feeling that you are an impatient young man,” the physician declared.

The duke had no response and allowed the doctor to rebandage his shoulder in silence.

Bella was enormously relieved when she saw the doctor to the door. He was right: It certainly could have been worse.

Bella went back to her room to see how the duke was faring after the doctor’s rough treatment of him. She found him still sitting up, but his eyes were closed. Hesitantly, she decided to leave him to rest. Turning, she walked softly to the door.

“Won’t you please stay a moment, Miss Tichley?” His deep voice stopped her movement. “Of course, your grace.” She walked back and seated herself in the rocking chair. Silently, she watched him for a few moments. Her concern for him grew as she noticed a muscle jumping in his jaw.

“The pain must be very bad.” She almost whispered the words.

He turned his head toward her slightly and opened his eyes. He met her beautiful gaze, and again saw the concern and compassion there.

A wry little smile touched his lips. “It could be worse,” he said, repeating the doctor’s succinct words. He closed his eyes again.

Trying to find some way to ease his pain, Bella suddenly recalled the small vial of laudanum the doctor had left days ago. She had given him very little of it, so she knew there was some left.

“Your grace, will you take a few drops of laudanum? It will help with the pain.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her with his startling gray gaze. “No, Miss Tichley, no laudanum.” He shook his head emphatically.

Seeing the question in her eyes, he continued: “I have seen too many men, brave soldiers, reduced to bland, needy simpletons because they were given too much laudanum after being injured on the battlefield.”

An expression of surprised curiosity spread across Bella’s features.

“Were you in the war, your grace?”

“Yes,” the duke replied. He really had very little desire to speak, but he wanted her to stay and talk with him, so he went on: “I was in for four years. Was sent home when my father died, as I was the oldest son, but not before we trounced the frogs at Salamanca.”

“Never say you were at Salamanca!” Bella gasped. “I have read many accounts of this great battle. Two French eagles were captured!”

He again looked at Bella in surprise, impressed with her knowledge.
What an unusual girl
, he mused as he watched the genuine interest on her face.

“It was a glorious victory and will, no doubt, be considered one of the most important battles of the entire war.”

“And you were a part of it,” Bella said, her tone filled with awe.

Feeling a little embarrassed, for he never spoke of the war, the duke changed the subject.

“And what of you, Miss Tichley? How comes a young lady to speak Latin and have knowledge of military history?”

Bella’s eyes dropped shyly before his. “I enjoy learning, your grace,” she stated simply.

After that, they were quiet for some moments. But Bella felt it was an easy, natural silence.

“I have been reading a very interesting book,
The Life of Nelson
, by Robert Southey. If you would like, I will read a few pages aloud to you,” Bella offered after a little while, thinking that this might help divert him from the pain.

“I would like that very much, Miss Tichley,” the duke said quietly. He did not even consider telling her that he had already read the book.

Later that day, while Bella still sat with her patient, Tommy came bounding through the open bedroom door. “Bella, come quick!” he urged excitedly. Setting her sewing aside, Bella rose from her chair.

“It’s the largest coach I have ever seen. Four matched grays and four outriders! They are coming up our lane,” he told them before rushing out of the room.

Bella turned to look down at Westlake and saw a smile starting at the corners of his mouth. Her brow raised in question at his expression.

“I believe my family has arrived,” he stated.

“Yes. It must be them. They have made very good time,” Bella exclaimed before abruptly rushing from the room.

She hurried into the little dressing closet next to her room to tidy her hair and remove her apron.

Good heavens, why am I in such a pet?
she wondered to herself.
Because his mother is a duchess
, came the immediate thought.

Bella was normally not one to be intimidated, but this was certainly a daunting situation. She checked her appearance in the looking glass one last time and saw the worry in her darkly fringed blue eyes.