A Marquess for Christmas (8 page)

“I
think you can manage.”

Her
long stare did nothing to ease the ache of his arousal. Though he wanted to
climb from the bed and pull her close to his body, he could not get out from
the blankets without her seeing his erection. It was a bit too soon for that,
unfortunately.

“I
can make do.”

“Am
I to feel pity for you, sir?” Her dark lashes fluttered, contrasting with her
creamy white skin.

“Yes.”

A
tall, broad man entered the room. He was thick and muscled, no doubt accustomed
to hard work or vigorous exercise. Kit would expect to see a man like this in
the alleys of town not here in a refined country house wearing a neat black
jacket and trousers.

Violet
smiled brightly and Kit felt like he’d been jabbed in the ribs. Who was he to
her? Not her husband, obviously, but Kit sensed something intimate from their
glances.

“Kit,
this is Charles Avery, my butler and steward.”

“Glad
to see you are feeling better, my lord.”

Kit
sat up straighter in the bed. He looked down and realized his shirt was
crumpled and no doubt his hair was an untidy mess, but he would not let the
other man get the better of him.

“I
am quite well due to the kind ministrations of your lady. I am told you were of
use in my injury. Such service will not go unnoticed.” Where was his bloody
purse? In fact, where were his clothes? Surely he had not arrived dressed like
this?

Before
he could ask about his things, Avery replied. “You are most welcome, my lord.”
Kit would have to wait to inquire about his personal effects. The last thing he
wanted to do was act like a whining dandy. It was important to assert his
strength straight away.

Avery
turned to Violet. “Is there anything else that my lady requires?”

“Sally
will see to our repast. You may return to your duties. Thank you, Avery.”

Perhaps
Kit was mistaken about there being some intimacy between Avery and Violet. She
gave him no long looks and her dismissal was polite but firm. If there had been
something more, she would have looked back when Avery exited the room.

“What
is he to you?” Kit nodded his head toward the door to indicate the man who’d
left. He wanted to be certain that whatever had passed between Violet and her
butler was platonic not amorous.

By
the look of her furrowed eyebrows, she had no idea what he meant. “You and your
manservant seem well acquainted.”

“We
met in the war,” Violet replied. Her flat tone invited no questions. “It is
because of Charles Avery that I survived. I would give that man my life and he
would do the same for me.”

“Do
you love him?”

Her
sigh pained him to hear. “As I do my brother,
Westley
,
yes. But not in the way a woman loves a man.”

Avery
was not a rival then. “Good.”

“I
take it you are satisfied.”

“Yes.
I have no interest in women who belong to another man. I wanted to be sure.”

Her
wry smile returned. “And you are quite sure of yourself, are you not?”

“Always.”

Before
she could reply, Sally appeared with more hot water and crumpets. Violet poured
two steaming cups of tea as Sally buttered the soft rounds of bread. Kit’s
mouth watered. If his head wasn’t pounding from the loud clatter of cups and
plates, he would have jumped out of bed to snatch a crumpet.

Instead,
he waited patiently, despite his grumbling belly.

He
was rewarded when Sally set down a tray in his lap. The first taste of buttery
heaven made him close his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks. He was not a
religious man, though he attended the required number of Sunday sermons. But
today he was grateful for the God that could make a woman as striking as Violet
Laurens and the cook who could make a crumpet better than any he’d ever tasted.

He
devoured the snack like a starving man in the trenches.

“Slow
down, sir, or you shall surely choke!”

Kit
shook his head and stuffed another morsel into his mouth. Then he licked his
fingers.

When
he saw her eyes watching him, he tore off another piece, then sucked each
finger deliberately, loving the way her eyes widened and her lips parted with
every movement he made.

“You
should try some. It’s wonderful,” he said, noting she’d barely sipped her tea.
Her scrumptious crumpets remained untouched. He debated on stealing one from
her plate.

Violet
licked her lips, her gaze on him rather than the food. “It certainly looks
tasty.”

The
glimpse of her pink tongue sweeping over her mouth was enough to get him hard
all over again. So much for his self-control. He’d managed to tame his lust
when Avery had entered, but now he was a randy buck and she the innocent doe he
wanted to capture.

“Do
that again and I shall give you something appetizing to feast on.”

Violet
pressed her lips together.

“I
merely tease,” he lied. “I am far too occupied with my new loves, Miss Butter
and Lady Crumpet.” He took a slow bite, then let his tongue slide over his lips
as hers had done. “Are you jealous?”

“No.”
She took a bite of the food from her own plate, kissing and licking her fingers
afterward, just as he had. He bit back a groan. “You see, while you attend to
your ladies, their darling husbands have come to kiss me.”

“Clever
woman.”

“I
lead by your example.” She took a sip of her tea, never taking her eyes from
him.

“Then
I have managed to teach you a bit of flirtation after all.”

He
planned to teach her a lot more if she would let him. For now, he would take
things slow, get her used to him. By the time he recovered, she would yearn for
every touch, every whisper, every kiss. He would give her that and more.

Chapter Five

Violet
scrawled in her ledger, staring at the figures. Kit had gone through two hens,
three loaves of bread, a lamb, a side of bacon, and a pheasant in two days.
Mrs. Norris had spent as much in one week as they normally spent in a month.

“He
eats more than a goat, yet stays as fit as a racehorse.”

“’
Tis
a good sign, my lady,” Mrs. Norris replied. “If he were
poorly, then he’d eat less than a bird.”

“Remind
me of that when he goes through our stock of cows next.”

There
was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

Avery
stood in the passage carrying two large brown satchels. “You asked for his
lordship’s belongings?”

“Yes,”
She turned to Mrs. Norris. “I will double the budget this month, but keep a
daily tally of what we use. We may need to haggle with the butcher for a better
price.”

“I
will bring Sally with me. All she has to do is smile at him and he’ll cut the
price in half.”

“Very
good.” She gave Mrs. Norris a few coins. “Let us go and check on Kit.”

When
they got to the room, Kit was standing in front of the mirror examining his
head wound. He fingered the small scab on the side of his face and tried to
angle his head to see the gash on his crown.

“What
are you doing, sir?” He flinched when he saw her glowering at him.

“My
head feels like a hundred horses are galloping through it.”

“It
is better if you do not touch the injury.” The wound looked better at least,
but if he picked at the scabs, it would increase the chance of infection.
“Avery, set down the bags and help me get Kit back to bed.”

“I
can manage on my own.”

“You
need to be resting.”

He
made a face, but walked back to the bed and sat down. He wore a white shirt and
cravat, but no dressing gown. She’d seen him without a stitch on, but even now
his state of partial dress was enough to send her thoughts in a dangerous
direction.

“Do
you need more laudanum?” she asked as they draped a thick green blanket over
him.

“No.”
He shivered. “I’d rather not turn into a dimwitted sloth if I can help it.”

“You
are in pain. Why brace yourself for battle if you can avoid the war
altogether?”

Her
gaze went from his eyes down to his mouth. She stared for a moment, then caught
herself.

“Because
I refuse to give anything or anyone that kind of power over me.”

Why
would he say that? He’d nearly died. There was no shame in resting until he
could recover.

“Have
you been able to remember anything new?”

He
frowned. “I see bits and pieces in my mind, faces and various places I’ve been,
but I am no closer to finding out who I was.”

Violet
glanced at Avery, who went to get the satchels. He laid the brown leather bags
down on the bed.

“We
have brought something that might help you. I do not know why I didn’t think of
it sooner. You had two satchels tied to your horse the day we brought you home.
Maybe there is something inside that could help you remember.”

“The
girls brought the items I was wearing the day of my accident, but I meant to
inquire about the rest. Thank you for delivering these.”

Avery
unbuckled the first bag and pulled back the flap. Violet was curious to see
what Kit had brought with him. Was his journey a day’s jaunt or a long one? She
suspected it was a short trip or he’d have traveled in a carriage.

The
first item Avery retrieved was a small fleece blanket. The satchel also held
one change of clothes, two pairs of gloves, and black dress shoes. When Avery
pulled out long strips of cloth, everyone seemed puzzled by it.

“Do
you recognize this?” Violet asked.

Kit
fingered the cotton strips and wound them around his palms. “I remember having
these on my hands.”

“What
were they used for?”

“I
am not sure.”

“Perhaps
the other bag will hold more useful items. Avery?”

“I
took the liberty of placing his lordship’s watch and purse in this satchel.”
Avery dug inside of the bag and pulled out an engraved gold fob watch and a
small purse filled with coins and bank notes.

“D.C.K.,”
Kit read. “What in the hell does that mean?”

Violet
took the watch and fingered the letters. She turned the watch over to look at
the engraved image of Apollo. The craftsmanship was excellent. Only a wealthy
man could afford such a watch.

“Perhaps
it is a family heirloom?” Violet suggested. “Maybe it belonged to your father
or an uncle?”

Kit
took the watch back and stared at it. “I wish I could remember, but it means
nothing to me.”

The
next item in the bag was a wood pipe. When Kit put it in his mouth, he
grimaced. “This is not mine,” he said.

“How
can you be so sure?” Violet asked.

“The
smell is awful. Sickeningly sweet.”

“Perhaps
another heirloom?” Violet suggested. This was not going well. Kit didn’t seem
to recognize anything.

* * * *

Kit
put down the pipe. It couldn’t be his. Why would he keep it if it was not his?
Was Violet right, did it belong to someone close to him? He ran his hands over
it again, searching for a memory, for anything that might explain it.

He
saw the flash of an older man with gray hair in his dark beard and hazel eyes.
But then it was gone as fast as it came. Who was he?

When
he looked at the clothes, the watch, he saw another man’s things. The only
thing that he remembered were the strips of cloth. He could see himself binding
his hands, flexing his fingers to get the right level of constriction. In one
memory, they were clean and white, in another, spots of blood stained the
fabric.

A
cobalt flask was placed into his hands. The cap was gold plated and the body
painted with gold leaves. Unscrewing the cap, he took a sniff. Whiskey.

“Do
you remember this one?” Violet leaned forward, watching him expectantly.

“A
flask is a flask. It means nothing to me save that there’s whiskey inside of
it.” He hated seeing the look on her face every time Avery retrieved another
possession. She wanted him to remember, but his memories were vacant.

“There
is paper and writing implements, dice, a knife, and elsewhere I have your
pistols and sword.”

Before
he could ask for the pistols, Violet spoke. “Is there a seal with the writing
utensils? Maybe that would give us another clue?”

The
sound of Avery’s hand rummaging through the bag reminded him of the sound of
dice rolling in a cup. He missed the sound of cards shuffling and dice rolling
across the table.

God’s teeth, this was hopeless
. The only
things he remembered were utterly useless. Thus far, all that he gathered from
his things was that he liked drinking and gambling and he had the money to do
both.

Violet
looked at the seal ring for a moment before handing it to him. There was no
crest or initials on the seal. “Hand me the wax,” he ordered. Avery struck a
match for him and lit the wick of the wax stick. The liquid poured over the
parchment, pooling like blood. Kit pressed the seal down and a ram’s head was
revealed.

He
stared at it for a while. As he suspected, his mind conjured nothing but
blackness. The image created no memory.

“This
is fucking pointless,” he said and threw the ring across the room. Why couldn’t
he remember? Was there a reason he did not want to? He looked at their
wide-eyed faces and realized he’d just sworn in polite company.

They
were only trying to help him. “Forgive me,” he said.

When
Avery went to fetch the ring, Violet squeezed his hand. “You can stay here,
Kit, for as long as you need to. It does not matter if you remember everything
today, next week, or in two years.”

He
returned the squeeze. “Do you mean that, angel?”

“Yes.”
This time, when he looked into her honey colored eyes, they were warm. He could
delve into their depths and never come out. Perhaps there was reason to stay a
while.