A Regency Christmas Pact Collection (42 page)

Northcotte looked down the hall for any sign the doctor had arrived. There couldn’t be much the man could do for Lady Miriam that the ladies weren’t already doing. He’d seen fighters at Gentleman Jackson’s take a blow and go down, but none so long as this.

Stephen and David had returned to their posts near the door. They appeared as concerned about the lady as if she were a sister to them. The Lumleys were good men. Good and faithful. Even on the few occasions when Northcotte had seen Lord Bridgethorpe, David’s father, he’d noticed how much in love Lord and Lady Bridgethorpe were. They must have been married more than thirty-five years by now, and hadn’t cooled into the
polite acquaintances
stage he’d witnessed in too many marriages. Those other relationships were the ones where the men usually had mistresses. Was that the cause of the distance between husband and wife, or the result?

His parents had their own problems, including the madness and obsession that drove his father over the edge at the end. His father had loved one woman all his life, and she was not his wife. Coincidentally enough, she was Lady Bridgethorpe. The knowledge of that had made his mother an empty shell of a woman, only to finally live again when she met and married her present husband after becoming widowed.

Which part of his father did Northcotte carry inside himself? The part capable of loving one woman until the end of his days, or the one whose wife was miserable because of him? It wouldn’t be fair to Lady Miriam to find out too late.

It wasn’t fair to any woman, he amended. He did not love Lady Miriam. Being intrigued beyond measure did not equate love. It might even border on obsession, in which case he should leave Hambleton Cottage immediately. Before he let on to the others he might be falling in love with Miriam.

Before he admitted it to himself.

Lady Miriam awoke in her bed to find Jane and Joanna sitting on either side of her and a strange man hovering near the foot of the bed. The very movement of blinking her eyes caused pain to swell in her head. Nausea tugged at her stomach. She moaned.

“Miriam? Are you awake?” Jane patted her hand and leaned closer.

Miriam refused to open her eyes. “What happened? Why does my head hurt so?”

“You fell off your horse,” Jane said. “Northcotte brought you back here after you fainted.”

Northcotte
. “I remember now. He was such a boor.”

One of her friends laughed, but without opening her eyes she couldn’t be sure which one. It was not important. The only thing that concerned her at the moment was her stomach. “I think I’m going to be ill.”

The bed rose on Joanna’s side and a moment later Joanna spoke. “Here, lean this way.”

Gentle hands guided her to lean over the chamber pot, and applied a cold cloth to her forehead when her dry heaves ended. She sank back into the pillows.

Jane rose and her voice moved away. “Dr. Abraham is here. He will need to examine you again.

Miriam lay still as the man poked and prodded, lifted her eyelid and let it fall. She answered basic questions about pains and did her best to remain awake.

At last the doctor was ready to leave. “I will leave you some headache powders, but I believe she will recover well. She must rest, and not do any activity that requires balance for at least a week.”

“Do not worry, I have no interest in riding again any time soon.”

Joanna’s soft voice came from the foot of the bed. “I will see the doctor out and order some broth from the kitchen.”

Miriam felt her bed sink again and assumed Jane remained with her. She opened her eyes to be certain. “You are supposed to be resting, dear. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your own bed?”

“I’m not an invalid. I will move to the chair if my back bothers me more than usual.” Jane pressed a hand low on her back and stretched.

“Very well. I don’t wish to cause a fuss. Although I imagine it’s too late to be concerned about that. Did I sleep long?”

“A few hours. Northcotte is beside himself with worry. Stephen says he blames himself.”

Her earlier conversation with the man came back to Miriam and she tried to push herself to sit up again against the pillows. “Rightfully so. The man is quite full of himself.”

“Northcotte? I’ve never known him to be so. What did he do?”

“Merely a repeat of his proclamations since I arrived here.” Miriam handed the rag to Jane to be dipped in the cool water, and pressed the refreshed cloth to her forehead. “If I am in the same room as he is, he is certain we are out to entrap him into marriage. So the fact that he chose to remain behind with me when the others rode at a faster pace meant
I
was chasing
him
like a hound after the fox.”

Jane giggled under her breath. “Heavens. I am very sorry for all you have been through at his hand. When you are well enough, I can have the carriage ordered to take you home, if you prefer it.”

“And miss the chance to meet your newest family member? That will not happen. If Lord Northcotte wishes to be apart from my company, he shall have to leave.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. He should be gentleman enough to be polite around you. And we’ll all work to be certain you are not left alone with him.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

A knock came from the door, which opened to reveal Stephen peering around it. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” Jane rose, and when he motioned, she went to him. Their heads bent together and they whispered back and forth, Jane glancing at Miriam on occasion, then Jane returned to Miriam. “The lord in question wishes to be certain you have recovered. Might we let him come in?”

Miriam raised one eyebrow, but nodded. She pulled the bedclothes higher, and couldn’t stop herself from patting at her hair, which must surely be in a tangle by now. It didn’t matter. She no longer cared what Lord Mystery thought of her. The only mystery remaining about him was why he was concerned about the woman he wanted nothing to do with. She shut out the evil thoughts she had towards him and forced her face into what she hope was a serene, polite façade.

Stephen left, and a moment later Northcotte strode briskly in to stand stiff and austere at the foot of the bed. Miriam felt she should curtsey, and the idea made her giggle. She cleared her throat to disrupt the urge. “My lord.”

“Lady Miriam, I’m pleased to see you are recovering.” He looked anything but. His mouth and brows puckered as if he were drinking vinegar.

“Thank you for your concern.” Now if he’d only take his leave so she could relax again.

He glanced at Jane, who’d moved to a chair near the fire. Northcotte grimaced, his lips pressing hard together, the skin around them going pale. “I wish to apologize for my behavior.”

His voice was so soft it was difficult to hear. Miriam sat up and leaned towards him, pressing the coverlet to her chest. “I beg your pardon?”

He again glanced at Jane, but when Miriam looked that way, her friend was studying her nails.

Northcotte came around the far side of the bed. “I fear your injury is all my fault. I beg your forgiveness for my behavior.”

Now that he stood nearby, she could see the true concern in his eyes. His brows were nearly one, they pinched together so tightly. He stood quite rigid, his hands behind his back. A flash came through her mind that he was gripping them tightly to keep from strangling her. She smiled.

Northcotte’s tension eased, and now Miriam was the guilty one. She’d been making sport of him, not encouraging him. However, she had no desire to wish him ill. “Think no more of it. My own behavior contributed enough to our disagreement. It is behind us now.”

He smiled, and Miriam melted. How handsome he was when he wasn’t angry, or uncomfortable. This was the man she fell in love with.

Too bad it had been short-lived. Or perhaps it would have been better for all concerned if she’d never had feelings for him. Yes, her behavior was as much at fault as his had been, if not more so for creating the imagined friendship between them.

“It pleases me to know you will not bear me ill will.” His voice grew stronger. “I wish you a quick recovery. If there is anything I may do to make you more comfortable, please let me know.”

“I shall, thank you.” She continued to smile while she studied him. Something had changed. Much of the anger she’d felt in him from the moment she arrived at Hambleton Cottage had calmed. She could think of nothing that might have assuaged it.

“I will allow you to rest now. May I look in on you later?”

Her head tilted to one side as she tried to make out the change in him. “You may.”

He performed a formal bow and left.

Jane came to sit on the side of the bed again. “No matter what you tell me, you have made an impression on that man.”

Miriam shook her head. “I do not understand it. I feel as though I am still in a dream. He is not the insufferable boor who upset me on our ride. I no longer know what to make of him.”

After two days of remaining in bed, Miriam was eager to return to her normal routine, but Jane was insistent she rest. Thus when Jane took to her bed with birthing pains, Miriam was unable to go to her for fear of distressing her further.

Joanna stayed at Jane’s side except for brief trips to Miriam’s chamber to update her on the progress. The local midwife had been called, and Joanna said the woman had chased Stephen belowstairs to wait with the other men.

Miriam had nodded off when a soft knock came at her door and woke her. “Come in.”

Her room was lit by a single candle, so it was a moment or two before she recognize who entered.

Lord Northcotte.

She sat up quickly, pulling the bedclothes to her chin. “My lord, is something amiss? Is it Jane?”

“No, all is well there, I am told. The baby will be here soon.” He approached and stood near the bedside table where the candle glowed.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, afraid someone would see him there and demand something foolish like a proposal.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he agreed. He continued to watch her, unspeaking.

She shivered. “If there is nothing amiss, please leave, my lord. Joanna might return at any moment to inform me of Jane’s condition.”

“I will go, but I had to speak to you in private. Something has been bothering me since the ride to the folly.”

A weight pressed down on Miriam as she feared what he might say. They’d agreed to put their argument behind them, and she didn’t wish to reopen the discussion.

“Before you tried to ride off, you said something. ‘I was a fool to wait for you,’ I believe you said.”

Oh, merciful heavens. Had she said that? “I don’t recall saying such a thing.”

He took a step closer, looming over her now. He reached out and lifted a lock of her hair. “It’s so straight. I imagined it curled of its own accord.”

Her heart raced. His hand looked as though it might touch her face, and she forgot to breathe. When he withdrew it, its absence was a palpable loss. “My brother is the only one of us to have curly hair.” Why on earth did she say such a thing now?

“You haven’t answered my question,” he prodded. “I cannot remain here long. Will you tell me, or must I go mad wondering?”

Tears welled in her eyes and her throat burned. She would never recover from the embarrassment of him learning of her infatuation. “I cannot speak it. Please don’t make me.”

He smiled gently. “I don’t wish to upset you. Tell me this: did we meet before you came to Hambleton Cottage?”

She closed her eyes, forcing a tear to spill down next to her nose. “Yes.”

“When?”

“It was Lady Harrison’s ball, my first Season. Six years ago.”

“I see. We were introduced then?”

The pain of her admission stung, but not as badly as the confirmation he didn’t remember her. No hint of recognition in his manner on reminder of the event. “Not exactly.”

“How intriguing.” His teeth shone in the candlelight when he smiled. The soft light gave sharp edges to his features, which only made him more handsome, if possible. He coughed into his hand. “Forgive me. You are not the sort of woman to have taken part in the sort of repartee that could imply. How did we meet?”

Miriam’s face burned, and the tears fell faster.

He must have noticed, for he reached for the handkerchief on her table. “This is causing you pain. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my questions. I will leave you.”

She reached for his hand to stop him. “Wait.” Looking him in the eye, beyond the welling tears, she explained, “I need to move past this. You were there to play cards with a friend of yours, only his mother instructed him to dance with me. He refused. You overheard and saved me from the embarrassment of the cut direct. You asked me to dance.”

He said nothing for the longest of moments, watching her as whatever thoughts ran through his head. He nodded slowly. “I see. I apologize for not being able to recall the event, but the gift was obviously much greater for the recipient than the giver. Or perhaps it is the true measure of the sort of man I am.”

He turned their hands so hers rested in his palm and ran his finger over her skin. “I thank you for giving me this image of myself from your eyes. It is very enlightening.”