Lady in Red by Máire Claremont

peered back at him with the clear intent to tempt a man with wicked innocence. Right now, it was only crushing his Calypso’s ability to breathe.
    Mercilessly, he flipped her onto her stomach. The long swaths of her skirts tangled and her wooden hoops banged and cracked like old bones.
    A groan slipped from her lips.
    “That’s right,” he growled as he yanked at the ties. “Wake up.”
    He pulled the ribbons through the metal grommets. Years of removing corsets from countless women had prepared him for this moment. His fingers flew, but it took him far too long before he could pull the slick fabric free from its last loop and peel the corset from her chemise-covered flesh.
    Without hesitating, he jerked at the tapes of her skirt and hoops, working them free of her lower body. He moved carefully now, to prevent cutting her legs with a broken crinoline.
    Just as he slid the massive swath of skirts free, Grieves’s solid footsteps thudded into the room. Edward didn’t look away from his task as he threw the ruined garments to the floor.
    Out of the corner of his eye, Edward spied Grieves rush up beside him. He presented a frothing glass upon a silver tray.
    “Here,” Edward snapped, still half kneeling on the bed.
    Grieves thrust the tray forward, his wrinkled forehead as creased as a sandy beach after the tide. “What’s happened, Your Grace?”
    Edward ignored his butler’s question and snatched the glass from the tray. “Do what I say.”
    Grieves nodded, his mouth agape.
    “I’m going to hold her still.” Edward shoved the crystal glass into the butler’s hand. “You’re going to force this down her damned throat.”
    Grieves’s eyes flashed with alarm, his gaze traveling from the fizzing glass to Mary’s prone, half-naked body. “Your Grace?”
    Edward mounted the bed, positioning himself against the pillows and headboard. With more roughness than he’d intended, he grabbed Mary’s upper arms and dragged her weightless form up the length of his body. Sucking in slow, sure breaths, he rested her against his chest so that she sat upright. He could feel her delicate bones against the muscles of his chest. He found himself willing his own ferocious capacity to live into her. “Do it.”
    Grieves flinched, then edged up to the side of the bed. He dropped the silver tray to the floor and the dull thud echoed through the room.
    Edward curved his palm against the base of Mary’s head, bracing her so she could slide neither right nor left. Then he gripped the nape of her neck, tilting her back.
    With a look of pure determination on his face, Grieves opened Mary’s mouth and pressed the glass to her lips.
    “Drink,” Edward whispered against her ear, aware of the way her silken hair felt against his lips. Even the scent of laudanum and red wine were not enough to cover the faint touch of tea roses emanating from her soft locks. For some unfathomable reason, it was this simple thing that ripped him apart with the desperate hope she would survive this.
    The bubbling soda water flowed into her mouth. The liquid merely spilled from the corners of her lips and dribbled down her cheeks.
    Grieves lifted his gaze to him, dismayed.
    “Pinch her nose,” Edward ordered, his heart slamming like a hammer against his ribs. There was no way in hell they were giving up.
    Grieves didn’t wait. His white-gloved fingers pinched Mary’s small nose and he kept pouring the drink into her mouth as if he could somehow will her to come to.
    At last, she swallowed in one great, tortured gulp.
    Her body jerked against Edward’s. She gagged, then coughed. Shaking against him, her chest expanded in a huge gasp. She flailed her arms, struggling weakly to get away from his demanding grip and Grieves’s unrelenting pouring.
    Edward didn’t let up, nor did he feel relief. They were a long way from safety yet. “Give her a moment to breathe. Then do it again.”
    Grieves pulled back, his worried old eyes flicking over her. He held