The Wedding Runaway (18 page)

"
Yes
,"
she answered. Then she looked at the grooms to be sure they had heard it too.
"
What are you doing here?
"

Hope that he might have come back for her
,
that he might have been unable to stay away made her heart sing.

"
I
'
ve come to fetch my sister home.
"

Her dashed hopes were childish. He would never have come for her. He hadn
'
t stayed for her either. He wasted no time in returning to America with the ship he
'
d come to England to sue to regain ownership. Once his lawsuit concluded, he was gone.
"
Oh
,
well, I guess that would be of more urgency than a boat.
"

"
Ship
,"
he corrected.

She retrieved the reins from the groom and reached for the side-saddle pommel. The groom laced his fingers together and lowered down to give her a lift up.

He
,
Trevor Hamilton
,
moved beside her.
"
Allow me.
"
He clasped her around the waist and lifted her onto her saddle
,
as if she had no more consequence than a feather.

For a moment she couldn
'
t breath.

"
Perhaps you would allow me to take your groom
'
s place as escort.
"

"
It wouldn
'
t be seemly.
"

He laid his hand on the neck of her horse
,
dangerously close to her thigh
,
er, limb.
"
Who
'
s to know besides us?
"

"
My grooms. Therefore, my parents.
"

He sauntered over and took the reins of the second horse.
"
You might tell them I am applying for a position in their stables.
"

"
I do not find your comment amusing
,"
she said. She didn
'
t understand his willingness to mix with the lower orders. Not that she refused to speak with the servants
,
or treated them with anything less than kindness. But
,
he always treated everyone as if they might be the best of friends.

"
As I do not find any man
'
s honest labor demeaning.
"

The groom dismounted.
"
More 'an we
'
d earn in a month of Sundays
,
gov.
"

"
You bribed my grooms?
"

~*~

Lydia was in trouble. She felt as if she were floating. She half-realized she was being carried and that felt nice, so she drifted in and out as she floated up and up. The doctor had given her laudanum
,
which made her forget the ache in her shoulder
,
forget that she had problems too big to solve and forget to stay awake.

Then there were voices.

"
Should I have a room prepared
,
my lord?
"

"
Prepare my wife
'
s chamber
,"
grunted Victor.

My wife
'
s chamber sounded nice. Except she wasn
'
t his wife. She struggled to raise her eyelids
,
but failed.

She heard breathing
,
quickening breathing. Then another voice she recognized
,
Millars.
"
Do you intend to put the young lady in your bedroom
,
my lord?
"

There was an air of disapproval and hushed secrecy. It was the manservant who had escorted her home several times.

"
You knew she was female and didn
'
t tell me?
"
Victor whispered. His breath caressed her cheek, as he shifted her.

"
You would have had the footmen carry a wounded young man
,"
said the servant with great affront.

"
Right
,"
said Victor with as much skepticism as she felt. Fiddlesticks
,
she knew the servant had known.

"
Are you sure this is best? I am forced with great reluctance to object to the arrangement
,
my lord.
"

"
Bloody hell
,
man. The other room is not ready. She is injured
,
and you know I am capable of practicing great restraint
,"
said Victor in a low undertone.

That seemed an odd thing for Victor to say. He didn
'
t seem like he used a great deal of restraint.

"
Yes
,
well—
"

"
It is only until she heals or...I can locate her family.
"

Was his hesitation because he thought she might not survive?

"
Why don
'
t you help me
,
she weighs a ton.
"

Oooh, that was not a pleasant thing to hear about oneself
,
even if it was true. A door snicked open.

"
You shouldn
'
t have carried her up two flights all by yourself
,
my lord
,"
said the valet as the door clicked shut.

"
I didn
'
t want anyone else realizing she
'
s female. I do not have a chaperone for her. I do not know what I shall do with her. Turn down the bed
,
will you?
"

She was deposited on a soft surface. Then her boots were tugged off.

"
Perhaps an older female relative.
"

"
I don
'
t have any. Hand me one of my nightshirts
,
if you please.
"
Victor breathed a little hard.

She was propped upright and pain shot through her shoulder. Her fog lifted a bit.

"
Should I not fetch the housekeeper to remove her clothing?
"

"
No
,
after all my trouble, I deserve some reward.
"

Reward?
What did he mean by reward?

"
Very good
,
sir
,"
said Millars as if it were anything but good.

"
Why don
'
t you make yourself useful and fetch her maid. However
,
I don
'
t want word of this spread to the other servants. You will refer to her as Mr. Hall outside of this room.
"

"
My lord?
"

"
It
'
s the best I can do to preserve her reputation at the moment. Although I daresay it shan
'
t matter.
"

Why wouldn
'
t it matter?
Her jacket was pulled down
,
right arm first. She leaned limply into Victor
'
s shoulder, breathing in the scent of him while she waited for the room to stop spinning. His hands were infinitely gentle.

"
Go on
,
so I might settle her in bed.
"

There was the sound of the door and Victor eased her jacket and waistcoat down her left arm. She tried to thank him for using such care near her injury
,
but what came out was less than speech
,
more of a mumbled moan.

"
Yes
,
I know
,
pet. I am being as careful as I can.
"

Then she didn
'
t remember more than sensations of cold, then warm, until she was embroiled in a dream or memory of Victor pointing the gun at her and pulling the trigger.

She woke with a jerk.

Devoid of his jacket and waistcoat
,
he stood with his back to her
,
looking out a window.

"
You shot me.
"

He turned slowly.
"
Yes
,
I did.
"

She looked around the spacious bedchamber. The room was filled with heavy dark wood furniture
,
the walls a hunter green with dark wine hangings around the bed and matching drapes. A masculine room. Her inspection stopped when her eyes landed on a bowl of bloodied water on a night table beside the bed and a pile of stained bandages.
"
Where am I?
"
She struggled to sit.

"
My bed.
"
He moved quickly to her side and helped her
,
moving pillows so she had a backrest. She couldn
'
t help but notice his sinewy forearms where his shirt sleeves had been rolled back. The open collar of his shirt exposed a masculine neck. Why had he undressed? Or had he never put his coat and waistcoat back on after the duel?

All at once she became aware that she didn
'
t have a stitch of clothing on underneath the nightshirt she wore. Not even her small clothes had been left on her.

He hadn
'
t needed to remove all her undergarments
,
had he? Her muddy memory of being cold suggested he had stripped her naked
,
before pulling the nightshirt over her head and covering her with the sheets and blanket.

There was worse, she realized, as the left shoulder of the gown had been slit open. As she sat up, the front flopped open. Victor simply watched with interest as she grabbed at it and pain wrenched her injured shoulder.

He sat on the bed beside her
,
the weight of the mattress shifting to make her feel as if she should slide into him. Part of her wanted to
,
but his dark eyes held a predatory look that she had never seen before.

She stared at him
,
but then a frown furrowed his brow.
"
Oh, hell
,
you should not be moving around so much. You are bleeding again. I was watching for the surgeon. I would that he
'
d hurry.
"

Had she taken a turn for the worse in the interval between when she
'
d been shot and now? Her brain felt slow and muzzy. How much time had passed? How much blood had she lost?
"
Am I going to die?
"

"
Eventually.
"

Her squeak of alarm must have amused him
,
because he gave her a half smile.

She had two thoughts: one
,
that she wasn
'
t ready to die
,
and two
,
that she didn
'
t want to die untouched. That was followed quickly by the idea that she was a little uncertain about how everything would work
,
and Victor scared her at times
,
especially when he aimed a pistol at her. Oh
,
Lord, if she was confused about her feelings before
,
they were now even more complicated.

He put his hand in the neck of his shirt and pulled it out
,
exposing his right shoulder.

She suppressed her second squeak and slid down, staring up at him. Did he mean to remove his shirt? Her eyes were drawn to the discolored and puckered flesh of a scar.

"
I lived through this. I should imagine you shall live through yours.
"

"
Will I have a scar that bad?
"
she asked and then wished she could recall the words.

"
I should not expect it. The bullet in my shoulder hit bone and had to be dug out. Then the wound had to be lanced and drained several times.
"
His voice was matter-of-fact
,
but there were hints at the deepness of the damage in his tiny wince.
"
Yours is just a flesh wound
,
and I know much more about how to care for such
,
now. There are leeches I would not let within a league of you.
"

She tentatively reached out to touch his scar when he let go of his shirt, allowing it to slide back into place. Her fingers met silk. How peculiar
,
her shirts for Leonard had been made in linen. Yet
,
the slide of the material left her feeling bereft of what she wanted.

His fingers closed around hers.
"
Don
'
t.
"

"
Does it still hurt?
"
She looked at his dark eyes and saw not pain or a wish to avoid pain
,
but a hunger that burned through her.

"
No. It healed long ago.
"

Then why didn
'
t he want her to touch him there?

She let go of her nightshirt
,
hoping it wouldn
'
t fall down since she was in a more reclined position. Tentatively she reached for the neck of his shirt and pushed it back to see the scar. What she saw was the strong expanse of muscle and bone covered by smooth male skin and just the hint of dark chest hairs below where she held open the shirt.

His hold on her hand loosened
,
and she touched the marred and darkened skin. How many scars did he have? The one on his forehead
,
this one
,
were there more? If she were to look
,
would she find more battle wounds
,
as if he were a knight of old? He turned his head slightly away as if bearing her interest and examination was difficult.