Lady Lyte's Little Secret (12 page)

Which was strange, he realized, since the last thing he remembered with any clarity was pitching off his horse into the river.

“A drink?” The man considered Thorn’s request. He half-turned to someone behind him and nodded. “I don’t think it’ll do him any harm. His vital organs don’t appear to have suffered any damage.”

“That’s a mercy.” Felicity peeped around the man to cast Thorn a reassuring smile quite at odds with the faint creases of worry etched around her eyes. “What sort of drink do you recommend, doctor? Fortified wine?”

The physician gave a dismissive gesture. “No intoxicants when the patient has so recently regained consciousness. Coffee might revive him further.”

“I’ll call for some.” Felicity moved out of Thorn’s line of vision, which was much obscured by the thick posts and heavy curtains of the bed on which he lay.

When the doctor reached toward him again, Thorn recoiled. But this time the man only clutched Thorn’s wrist…which pained him less than most other parts of his body.

“Lie still, now, whilst I test your pulse.” With his other hand the doctor consulted a watch suspended on a chain that spanned his broad middle.

After a few moments, he released Thorn’s arm again. “As I suspected. Much stronger now.”

Felicity returned to her place beside the doctor. “That is good news.”

The doctor nodded. “He has a strong constitution in his favor. I expect he’ll make a rapid recovery. Tell me, Mr. Greenwood, what’s the last thing you remember before you woke to find yourself here?”

Thorn opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated.

He’d known a fellow once who’d lost consciousness for a time after a blow on the head. When he’d wakened, the man had no recollection of events for several days before his accident.

Doctors had warned the man’s friends and family not to speak of that time or attempt to prompt his memory.

Thorn could not help wondering what might happen if he professed not to recall the past several days. Felicity looked quite anxious about him. Perhaps she would be willing to pretend she had not ended their affair, for a while at least.

But that would also mean feigning no memory of Ivy’s elopement, giving her and young Armitage ample time to reach Gretna and come back again.

Besides, Thorn could not bring himself to deceive Felicity.

“I remember getting pitched into the water,” he admitted. “After that, everything’s a right muddle until I woke up just now.”

Felicity pushed the doctor aside. Perching on the edge of the bed, she took Thorn’s hand. “The other coach you were chasing, did you get a look at who was inside? Was it Ivy and Oliver?”

Though he hated to disappoint her, Thorn shook his head. “Some elderly woman. I hope I didn’t give her too great a fright, tearing after her carriage like that.”

Felicity pulled a wry face. “Oh dear.”

The implication of what he’d just said might have knocked Thorn flat, if he hadn’t been, already. He had a vague conviction, more nebulous than a memory, yet also more urgent, that he
must
find and rescue his sister from…herself. To fail would betray the trust his dying mother had placed in him.

“Ivy!” He forced himself up to a sitting position, though every muscle in his body screamed in protest. “Are we in Gloucester? I must go look for her!”

His bed spun and tilted in one direction while the room beyond whirled and pitched the opposite way.

“Hush now, hush!” Felicity pushed him back onto his pillow.

To Thorn’s impotent frustration, he was unable to mount more than a token resistance.

“Since you ask, we’re just on the outskirts of Gloucester.” Felicity spoke in a soft, soothing voice as she brushed a lock of hair back from his brow. “I ordered Mr. Hixon to put in at the first inn we came to. This place wasn’t far off. Fortunately, it turned out to be a well-run establishment.”

“I’m sure it is.” Thorn planted his hands wide to steady himself for his next attempt to sit up. “But I can’t stay to enjoy its amenities while my sister may be within reach.”

Felicity shot him a look that warned the less said about Ivy and Oliver in front of others, the better.

“What do you propose to do? If you haven’t got sufficient balance to sit up in bed, there isn’t much likelihood of your sitting a horse, is there?”

Though Thorn tried to concentrate on his original chain of thoughts, ideas seemed to flutter about his
skull and fly out of his mouth of their own accord. “St. Just’s horse—what happened to it?”

His question appeared to puzzle Felicity as much as it unsettled him. “It got…wet. The wretched beast is in much better shape than you are presently, I can assure you.”

“I might be in worse shape, if that ‘wretched beast’ hadn’t turned aside from the bridge in time.”

Before Felicity could reply, a knock sounded on the door. She jumped most readily from her roost on the bed to answer it, as if she might be glad of a distraction.

Thorn cast a wary glance at the physician. If the prodding started again, he might have to throttle the little fellow.

Perhaps his intention broadcast itself on his face, for the doctor edged farther away from the bed and made a show of packing his satchel.

Thorn closed his eyes and willed his addled wits not to go astray. He had something important to think about, if he could only remember it and pursue it in spite of distractions.

Ivy! That was who he must concentrate upon.

Surely she and Armitage must be spending the night in Gloucester. Likely at that inn the keeper of The King’s Arms had recommended. Thorn must go collect her straightaway.

Again he planted his hands on the bed at a good wide angle to steady himself. Then he pulled himself up by slow degrees, the better to keep dizziness at bay…even though the muscles of his abdomen protested painfully. This time he managed to raise his head without sending everything into a violent whirl.

After a moment of hushed talk, the door closed and
Felicity appeared in Thorn’s line of sight again, bearing a tray loaded with a small mound of sandwiches and a pair of faintly steaming mugs. The rich, faintly bitter aroma of coffee pervaded the room.

A passing glance at the bed made Felicity start and nearly drop the tray. “For pity’s sake, lie down, Thorn! You need time to rest and heal.”

“I’ll have plenty of time to rest once I have my sister back,” Thorn muttered through clenched teeth as he prepared to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m certain she must be passing the night somewhere in Gloucester. The sooner I find her, the better…for everyone.”

Felicity set the tray of coffee and sandwiches down on a small table beside the bed with barely restrained force.

She glared at Thorn. “We can discuss this further once you’ve taken a little nourishment. If Ivy is in Gloucester, she’ll be staying put until morning.”

He could not properly explain his renewed compulsion to find his sister, not even to himself. How could he hope to make Felicity understand? Thorn set his mouth in a grim line and prepared to twitch back the coverlet, when it suddenly dawned on him that he was naked.

The realization almost knocked him back onto his pillows.

Meanwhile, Felicity had opened her reticule and taken out some money to pay the physician. It must have been a generous fee, for the little man thanked her heartily.

“I can see myself out, ma’am, while you attend to Mr. Greenwood. Don’t hesitate to send for me in the night if his condition worsens.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Felicity picked up one coffee cup from the tray and carried it over to the bed. “You’ve been most helpful.”

Thorn managed to keep his contrary opinion to himself.

He took a sip from the cup Felicity held to his lips, hoping it would revive his strength and marshal his skittish wits into better order.

The physician gathered up his hat and satchel, then headed for the door. Perhaps because the lady had paid him such a handsome fee, he must have felt he owed her some parting advice to the patient.

“You’ll recover all the sooner if you don’t overtax your strength for the next day or two, Mr. Greenwood.” He moved out of Thorn’s sight. The door creaked open. “I suggest you rest and let your charming wife take care of you.”

Wife!

The coffee in Thorn’s mouth spewed out in a fine shower all over the bedclothes.

Chapter Nine

“W
ife?” Thorn sputtered as soon as the doctor had closed the door. “What else took place while I was unconscious that you haven’t told me about?”

Oh dear! A ripple of laughter burst out of Felicity. The buoyant relief of having Thorn awake, speaking and moving after what she’d feared had made her giddy. She’d struggled to maintain a sober appearance while the doctor was in the room. Now, Thorn’s ridiculous assumption pushed her over the edge. She set his coffee cup back down on the tray, before she spilled it all over the floor.

In spite of the laughter that shook her until tears sprang to her eyes, it rankled that he would suspect her of such a thing. Not to mention showing such excessive dismay at the false prospect of having her as his wife.

“I’ll remind you…” She gasped for breath, struggling to rein in her runaway levity. “…we are still hundreds of miles from Gretna Green…”

Really, it was too absurd! “…where I might haul you, unconscious, in front of a blacksmith and have
Mr. Hixon jerk your head back and forth to signify consent.”

The words rolled out of her very fast, borne on a fresh tide of laughter. She couldn’t help herself. The whole scene unfolded in her imagination in such droll, vivid detail.

Thorn cast her a look that questioned whether he’d fallen into the clutches of a madwoman. “Then, why did that doctor call you my wife?”

“What else
should
I have told him?” Slowly, Felicity regained control of herself. “What should I have told anyone? This inn only had one suitable room free, and it was clear you’d need someone to take care of you through the night. I didn’t want to start a lot of scandalous talk that might get back to Bath.”

“You might have claimed to be my sister.”

His words jerked a mat out from under Felicity, throwing her more badly off balance than she’d been before.

“I—I suppose I might have,” she admitted. “I didn’t happen to think of it, that’s all.”

She wasn’t anybody’s sister, so she hadn’t thought of pretending to be. Besides, she couldn’t imagine herself related to Thorn Greenwood in that chaste way.

“Besides, what gives you the right to question what action I took in a moment of crisis?” Felicity pulled herself taller and thrust out her chin. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

Her sudden shift from defense to attack seemed to catch Thorn off guard. “Well…obviously.”

“You’re alert, if not entirely reasonable.” Felicity would not retreat. “You have no hurts that a few days’ rest won’t cure. I’d say my servants and I did well by you. But do I get a word of thanks?”

At least Thorn had the manners to look chagrined.

Felicity supplied her own answer. “I do not. Instead you insist on courting further injury by proposing to ride all over town when you have barely regained consciousness. Then you question my innocent ruse of posing as your wife for one night.”

“I’m sorry.” Thorn pulled the coffee-soaked coverlet closer around his waist. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. The ‘wife’ business caught me by surprise, was all. As for the other, I only want to find my sister while I have the chance. Aren’t you just as anxious to recover your nephew and bring the young fool to his senses?”

“Of course, but…” But she found herself even more concerned with Thorn’s well-being.

Monumental idiocy when she would have to cut all ties with him. When this shared journey of theirs was meant to sever a potentially troublesome link.

“Of course.” Thorn held out his hand, and for one sweet, mad moment, Felicity thought he was inviting her to join him on the bed. “Now be a dutiful wife and fetch your poor injured husband his linen and breeches.”

It gave her a passing measure of vindictive satisfaction to inform him, “I wish I could, truly. But you pitched into the river, remember? Your clothes were sodden, and so cold I’m surprised you’ve warmed up yet. I shudder to think what state you might be in now if we hadn’t removed them as soon as we got you settled here.”

“We?” Thorn’s countenance took on a bilious cast.

“Ned and I,” Felicity replied. “While Mr. Hixon went for the doctor. Like most footmen, the lad’s had
plenty of experience helping a gentleman undress who’s incapable of undressing himself.”

So had she, for that matter, though Felicity shrank from admitting it. Instead, she pointed toward the hearth, which Thorn probably couldn’t see from the bed. “Your clothes are drying before the fire, but they have a long way left to go. With luck they may be fit to put on by morning.”

“I don’t care if they’re wet.” Thorn thrust back the coverlet, then twisted about to lower his feet to the floor. “Bring them here.”

“I will not!” Felicity told herself it was the heat of the fire, not the sight of Thorn splendidly naked that made her blush like a simpering virgin bride. “You’d catch your death going off on a cool spring night in wet clothes.”

A fierce scowl overset Thorn’s usual look of affable composure. “Then I’ll get them myself.”

Felicity put herself between the mantel and the bed. “Take one step toward that hearth, and I’ll toss your clothes on the fire!”

“What’s gotten into you, woman?” A grimace of pain twisted Thorn’s features as he lurched to his feet. “You’re not my mother, for pity’s sake. You don’t even want to be my mistress anymore. So leave off trying to coddle me.”

He tried to take the threatened step, but the strength of his legs clearly failed to match the strength of his will. He staggered toward Felicity, who mustered all her strength to push him back onto the bed. At the last instant, his hand closed around her wrist and pulled her down on top of him.

The indignation she tried to summon, melted like summer hail on a sun-baked rock.

A bewildering sense of completeness stole over her as the fleet skip of her heart tangled with the strong, swift beat of Thorn’s until it became one thrilling, intricate rhythm. The fear that had chilled Felicity from the moment she’d watched her servants drag Thorn ashore began to thaw at last—warmed by the sensation of his vital, solid body beneath her.