Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) (43 page)

She followed when they lifted him and put him in the hack that would have participated in her kidnapping. Foot on the step she hesitated glancing over to where Clara lay. Royce looked at her and nodded. She entered and they began moving even before the door closed.

She hopped out when they halted at his house not waiting for help. Hounding them to the door, she dashed around them and opened it so they did not have to stop. Trystan’s butler appeared moments later and whatever he had been about to say never made it out when he saw his employer bleeding everywhere.

Jo trailed them upstairs to his room where they placed him on his bed. Berry shouted orders and the servants hurried to fulfill his requests. He lifted a knife and paused, meeting her gaze.

“You should leave.”

“Cut his clothes off and fix him or I will do it. This is not about what is proper, this is about saving his life.” She took the knife and ripped up his shirt then helped Berry remove it totally.

“He was shot twice?” Berry muttered while shaking his head.

“Will he make it?”

He shrugged and she made a sound much like a wild animal. Berry met her gaze head-on.

“I cannot say, Jo. The doctor should come in and look.”

She scowled. How could they be certain The Alchemist would not have swayed this person?

“Jack has a doctor he uses and trusts.”

“He also had men he trusted who betrayed him. Tell me, do you trust him?”

Berry could not give her an affirmative. She shook her head. “No. He is not going to be murdered while he lays here injured. You know more than most doctors, Berry. You do it.”

Berry’s gaze locked on hers. He hesitated a moment she thought too long, until the man gave a sharp nod.

She lost track of time as Berry worked on him. Refusing to leave, Jo stayed, helping when and where she could. She was not squeamish around blood but this was almost too much for her. Still, she would not leave.

Berry worked late into the morning. Jack stopped by but he was told to leave the room. When Berry finally put down his instruments, Jo looked up from where she sat on the bed by Trystan’s head, her hands upon him, needing the contact as if she could will him back to life.

The medic sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “The rest is up to him.”

She slid from the bed, containing her groan at moving overly stiff muscles. “You need to sleep.”

“As do you.” He gestured to her. “You need to get yourself cleaned up.”

She looked down at herself. Her dress stained and torn. Gloves on the floor were no longer white but red with Trystan’s blood, as were her hands.

“I cannot leave him.”

“I am sure they can find something for you to wear. I will remain until you return, then I will take a break. We will always have someone with him.”

Even with his words, his promise, she found herself hesitating. Then she went to the door and opened it, turned her head to stare back at the lifeless body of Trystan on the bed then left.

His housekeeper and a maid descended upon her the moment she left the room.

“Come with us, Miss Adrys.”

She followed the women to another room where it did not take them long to fill a hot bath and help her in it. A groan escaped as she sank until the water came up to her chin. Every inch of her ached, she had no idea how long she had been at his side while Berry did what he could.

Her mind flashed back to when Najja had gotten injured protecting Pug. How deathly still she had been, and the time they hovered over her bedside. Tears pricked at her eyes and she just did not have the energy to restrain them so they overflowed.

She had almost lost him. She may still have, he had yet to pull through. Goodness, she loved him but it was time for her to live her life. Not wait for a man to decide she was worthy. She breathed deep, her body and soul oddly at ease with her decision.

I will stay until he is better than I will prepare for my own journey.

Truly, she wished to see her parents before she set off. So there was another factor. She washed and rose on tired legs. As she dried off, she spied the abrasions on her knees from being shoved around. There were also a few on her knuckles and wrist. Funny, they did not hurt.

There sat a pile of clothing for her and she lifted it and did not even hesitate dressing. With the provided brush, she ran it quickly through her hair then braided it so it hung over her shoulder. Then she headed back to Trystan’s bedside.

Berry looked up when she entered. Jack sat there as well. Both men stared at her and she knew it was because of her attire. She wore one of Trystan’s shirts and a footman’s pants. It made her feel closer to him to have the faint scent of him around her.

“You did not want one of my doctor’s looking at him.” Jack scowled.

“I was not about to risk his life again. I know and trust Berry.”

“He is my man.”

“Your assassin and spy. I do not care. When he is better, that is between you both. Right now, I want him to live long enough to heal. You have had enemies insinuate themselves through your group and even into the House of Lords—based on the ones you arrested and took to the gaol—why would your doctor be any different?”

Jack did not argue with her, he just nodded and got to his feet. “I will be back to check on him.”

As he was at the door, she called out to him. He pivoted back, his brows lifted in question. “Could you find out about my friend Clara? See if there is any news on her?”

“I will do what I can and send a message.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Keep him alive.” Then the duke was gone.

She glanced to Berry. “You go, I will sit with him.”

When it was just the two of them, she leaned over him, brushed some hair back from his face, and gave a sad smile.
Come on Trystan, wake up.
Drawing up a chair, she sat beside him and watched him breathe. Every so often, she would get up and wipe his face with a damp cloth.

Her eyes were heavy and she was exhausted, so she climbed into the bed with him, mindful of his injuries, and curled up beside him. She needed the comfort of his scent and breathing. Releasing more tears that ran from her eyes to his shirt, she allowed herself to sleep, a weapon in hand.

Hushed voices woke her and she gripped the handle of her dagger before it sank in who spoke. Cracking open her eyes, she peered across the room and saw Duchess Haversham and the Duke of Ramsay.

“This is foolish, Elizabeth,” Jack said. He paced back and forth before her.

“Calm yourself, Jack. What is your problem? That he is not at your place where you can control every aspect of his life? He almost died. No one cares more for him than that chit. You do remember how love felt right?”

“Do not do this, Lizzie. Not now.”

Lizzie? She closed her eyes almost all the way when they both looked over at her. Jo did her best to continue appearing as though she were sleeping.

“It never is the right time with you, Jack. That was the problem. With us, I always took second to your job. I know the dedication as well, I worked for His Majesty, too. But I also wanted a life.”

“You could have waited.”

“I would be this old and unwed, Jack, had I waited for you to do something other than your work. I may not have loved Haversham but he was good to me.” She poked a finger at the duke who stood opposite her. “I admire Jo. She reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger. She has more honor than a lot of us do anymore, Jack. She does what she does out of heartfelt loyalty not because she was told to do it. Not because she gets paid to do it. Her defense of family and friends is because of her love. Something we could all use a bit more of. Let her be. If he comes back for anyone it will be her.”

Jack Eversley, Duke of Ramsay, drew Elizabeth Ashton, Duchess of Haversham into his embrace. For a moment, Jo thought she would struggle but she did not. They remained like that for a small period of time.

“I know I never told you this before, Lizzie, but I am sorry I was not there when you lost Drake.”

“You were away on something important, Jack. You always were.” She stepped back, smoothed down her dress, and composed her features. “Now, I have sent for some proper clothing for Jo, it will be here soon along with the update you requested on Clara. I will stay, I know you have some things to attend.”

Jack looked back to the bed and Jo remained as she had. Still and watching them through lowered lids. He stared closer as if he was not sure she slept or not. Apparently, the result of his perusal was to his approval for he nodded and walked to the door. Jo gasped quietly when the man turned back around and kissed the duchess until she sank into him, then he left. Duchess Haversham stood almost immobile staring at the door, fingers touching her lips.

Jo closed her eyes completely. That had been a private moment and she should not have eavesdropped. It did not take too long and she fell back asleep.

The next few days passed in similar fashion. She read to him during the daylight hours and slept beside him at night. Trystan’s staff knew but no one said a word. They treated her well and got her whatever she wished for.

One day, on her way back from visiting Clara, Jo peered out the window of the coach when they pulled up before Trystan’s townhouse. There was a change in the air and she hurried to the door and up to his room.

Before she reached it, she slowed at the sound of voices. One male and one female. It was not the duchess’ voice, she knew that much. But it was one that rang familiar to her.

It could not be. Could it? She crept closer to the doorway and peeked inside. Sure enough, Arabella sat in the chair, Jo had spent many hours reading to him from, her hand on Trystan’s arm as he sat up in bed, staring down at her.

Licking her lips, Jo wheeled around silently. There was nothing to get upset over. He was not hers. Besides, he had woken up that was the important thing. What she had wanted from the beginning. She had fulfilled that promise, so now it was time for her to go.

“May I have a carriage take me home?” she asked the footman by the door.

“Of course, Miss Adrys.” He gave her a smile and set off to do her bidding.

Once it arrived, she walked out of the house, paused with her hand on the frame, glanced over her shoulder and back inside. “Goodbye, Trystan.” Her words were barely above a whisper. Then she walked down the steps and never looked back.

Trystan stared through blurry eyes at Arabella who sat beside him. He did not remember all too much after being shot twice. Was Jo all right? He shifted and could not quite contain the groan, which left him.

“Are you all right?” Arabella touched his arm and squeezed. Her nails digging into the flesh of his arm like talons.

“Doctor?”

“I will be right back. I have been filled with such disquiet during this time.”

So she had been blabbing about since he had woken. He watched her rise and flow elegantly from the room. Not a stitch out of place. She surely did not look like a woman concerned.

Not much later Berry walked in and quietly but firmly told Arabella she had to wait outside. Trystan did not even want to explain his relief at that. His friend walked to the bed and gave him a grin.

“Good to have you back with us, my lord.”

“Stop with that, Berry. You knew me long before I got that title.” Trystan gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the throbbing around his wounds. “How has Arabella been?”

“She only got here today, but the house is in an uproar.”

He scowled. “Today?” A slight shake of his head. “She told me she never left my side.”

“She has not, since she got here.” The man removed the bandages and checked his injuries. “However, it was Miss Adrys who sat by your bed, day after day, reading to you.”

Jo. “Where is she?”

“Her Grace?”

“No, Jo.” He did not give a damn about Arabella.