no angel, after all.
“Lord Marworth.” Her voice was scratchy, a neglected hinge protesting its use. And she was in a bed, dressed in a linen rail not her own, in a room she did not recognize. “May I ask what you are doing here?” she asked, squinting up at him. “And also where I might be?” Glancing about, she saw a pretty room with blue damask wallpaper, silk-tufted furnishings, and a soft-hued Aubusson carpet. But even that cursory observation was exhausting. She felt like she’d been thrown from a horse and dragged behind it until there was nothing but the heap of her, a broken mass.
“We are at Painshill Park, a small estate I own in Surrey. You are safe here, and I am so glad to see you are feeling better. My housekeeper, Miss Banning, has just gone down to have a tray made up.” He offered her a tall glass of water, and in that moment, nothing had ever looked so delicious.
Sitting up slowly, careful to keep the counterpane wrapped tightly about her, she took it, swallowing the contents in a long draught. “I fell ill in the carriage. I remember a burning sensation, hot like cinders in a fire, and a terrible thirst.”
“You’ve been delirious for five days.”
“Five days!” she exclaimed, her thoughts still tangled. It seemed impossible. Every limb screamed it, though. And it would explain her reaction to his presence. The world had tilted a bit at the sight of him. Instead of embarrassment, she’d felt something quite close to relief.
He refilled the glass, and she drank the contents down once more, the water soothing her parched throat.
“I believe the Thames is to blame. Did you swallow a great deal of it?”
“Far more than I would have wished. It was filthy.”
“I’m sorry not to have considered that danger,” he said, a tiny furrow forming between his brows. She noticed he was dressed in a black coat and trousers, and her heart stilled.
“Jackson is all right, isn’t he?”
“He is more than fine and inordinately proud of his performance.”
“Thank goodness. But what of you? I saw you jump from the barge. Why ever did you do that?”
“To be honest, I thought you were drowning.”
“I must be a better actress than I thought,” she said with a weak smile. “But I will admit to a few moments of fear. The currents were quite strong.”
“I know. I once lost someone close to me in a similar situation. A boating accident.”
The tone of his voice made her uncomfortable, because for a moment, there had been real grief behind those words. She hadn’t thought him capable of it. With his many blessings, what in life did he have to regret? Evidently, more than she’d realized. “I am so sorry.”
“It was a lifetime ago in any case,” he replied briskly. “But you were brave to go back for Byng’s poodle. In fact, in a society that cossets its pets more than its children, you are now a heroine of the highest order. However, please do try not to scare me like that again.”
He’d been worried for her. It was a warming notion. Either that, or she was not quite recovered. The curious fluttering sensation in her stomach could just as easily be indigestion. Or more likely ravenous hunger.
As if sensing her thoughts, Marworth held out another hand, this one bearing a napkin and a biscuit glazed with butter. “I snuck it when the morning cook wasn’t watching. She will not be pleased with me, but I thought you might be hungry.” She snatched it with unladylike urgency. “It’s a good thing I pulled my fingers away,” he observed wryly. “You might try to eat them, too.”
“You’re quite right,” she said after she gobbled down the biscuit. But he merely laughed in response, and the sound of it surprised her. She wasn’t used to making people laugh. She’d certainly never realized impertinence might be amusing. And she suddenly wanted more than anything, even more than another biscuit, to make him laugh again.
Before she could try, however, a beautiful
“Lord Marworth.” Her voice was scratchy, a neglected hinge protesting its use. And she was in a bed, dressed in a linen rail not her own, in a room she did not recognize. “May I ask what you are doing here?” she asked, squinting up at him. “And also where I might be?” Glancing about, she saw a pretty room with blue damask wallpaper, silk-tufted furnishings, and a soft-hued Aubusson carpet. But even that cursory observation was exhausting. She felt like she’d been thrown from a horse and dragged behind it until there was nothing but the heap of her, a broken mass.
“We are at Painshill Park, a small estate I own in Surrey. You are safe here, and I am so glad to see you are feeling better. My housekeeper, Miss Banning, has just gone down to have a tray made up.” He offered her a tall glass of water, and in that moment, nothing had ever looked so delicious.
Sitting up slowly, careful to keep the counterpane wrapped tightly about her, she took it, swallowing the contents in a long draught. “I fell ill in the carriage. I remember a burning sensation, hot like cinders in a fire, and a terrible thirst.”
“You’ve been delirious for five days.”
“Five days!” she exclaimed, her thoughts still tangled. It seemed impossible. Every limb screamed it, though. And it would explain her reaction to his presence. The world had tilted a bit at the sight of him. Instead of embarrassment, she’d felt something quite close to relief.
He refilled the glass, and she drank the contents down once more, the water soothing her parched throat.
“I believe the Thames is to blame. Did you swallow a great deal of it?”
“Far more than I would have wished. It was filthy.”
“I’m sorry not to have considered that danger,” he said, a tiny furrow forming between his brows. She noticed he was dressed in a black coat and trousers, and her heart stilled.
“Jackson is all right, isn’t he?”
“He is more than fine and inordinately proud of his performance.”
“Thank goodness. But what of you? I saw you jump from the barge. Why ever did you do that?”
“To be honest, I thought you were drowning.”
“I must be a better actress than I thought,” she said with a weak smile. “But I will admit to a few moments of fear. The currents were quite strong.”
“I know. I once lost someone close to me in a similar situation. A boating accident.”
The tone of his voice made her uncomfortable, because for a moment, there had been real grief behind those words. She hadn’t thought him capable of it. With his many blessings, what in life did he have to regret? Evidently, more than she’d realized. “I am so sorry.”
“It was a lifetime ago in any case,” he replied briskly. “But you were brave to go back for Byng’s poodle. In fact, in a society that cossets its pets more than its children, you are now a heroine of the highest order. However, please do try not to scare me like that again.”
He’d been worried for her. It was a warming notion. Either that, or she was not quite recovered. The curious fluttering sensation in her stomach could just as easily be indigestion. Or more likely ravenous hunger.
As if sensing her thoughts, Marworth held out another hand, this one bearing a napkin and a biscuit glazed with butter. “I snuck it when the morning cook wasn’t watching. She will not be pleased with me, but I thought you might be hungry.” She snatched it with unladylike urgency. “It’s a good thing I pulled my fingers away,” he observed wryly. “You might try to eat them, too.”
“You’re quite right,” she said after she gobbled down the biscuit. But he merely laughed in response, and the sound of it surprised her. She wasn’t used to making people laugh. She’d certainly never realized impertinence might be amusing. And she suddenly wanted more than anything, even more than another biscuit, to make him laugh again.
Before she could try, however, a beautiful
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