Page 78 of Tempting the Marquess

“Now, your lordship, to get you inside,” Jensen began. “I can gather as many footmen as necessary...”

“It’s all right, I canwalk.”

“Oh. Of course. But perhaps you’ll permit us to find you a suitable physician?”

“Looks like someone suitable is already here,” said Mrs. Kingsley. “There’s Dr. Murray.”

William glanced out the carriage window and smiled grimly. Geoffrey Murray was indeed the best in the business. Old-school doctors hated the man because he not only combined traditional practices with herbals, and advised against bleeding patients as a cure, but had trained his daughter to medical school level so she could assist him. Yet he’d been the savior of many undercover operatives, as well as Stephen, and Louisa Trentham, and he remained utterly trustworthy and discreet.

“Go and offer the doctor some refreshments, Mrs. Kingsley. Tell him I’ll be pleased to see him shortly.”

“At once, your lordship,” she replied, climbing out of the carriage and bustlingaway.

Turning, Jensen bowed. “Welcome home. Everyone is going to be beside themselves.”

“Not sure I like the sound of that,” William said as they made their way up the front steps. “Will cost me an absolute fortune in extra wages.”

“How convenient you are richer than Prinnythen!”

“Everyone is richer than Prinny.”

“True, but you have far better bloodlines. And a much more handsome countenance. Not to mention—”

“Jensen.”

“Yes, mylord?”

“I am quite well. In fact, it is only if you persist with these truly horrifying attempts at flattery that I will become violentlyill.”

His butler sagged. “Oh, thank heavens. Don’t know what I’d do if you turned into one of those dandies who wanted to be admired all thetime.”

“Resign?”

“Ha. This household would fall to rack and ruin without me. Certain others might think they run everything, but I’m sure you are aware who is really in charge.”

“Naturally,” said William, suppressing a smile.

“Now, would you like anything, your lordship? Some breakfast, perhaps?”

“No. It’s been a long seven weeks, Jensen, I’m going to see the doctor and then rest. I don’t want to be disturbed unless the house is ablaze.”

“Of course, mylord.”

A quarter hour later he sat on his huge four-poster bed, piled high with pillows and made up with linen so cool and crisp it felt like water. Except now memories were bombarding him of the last time he had slept here. Samantha underneath him, her sweet, lush body arching as she climaxed. Samantha draped over him, her blonde curls spilling onto his chest. Damned woman. Even after everything, it was still her face he saw in his dreams. Her touch he craved.

“Lord Standish. It’s a relief to seeyou.”

He glanced over at the familiar visage of Geoffrey Murray standing next to Mrs. Kingsley. He was dressed, as usual, entirely in gray, his face unsmiling. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ve been made aware of your injuries. May I take alook?”

William nodded and stripped off his borrowed linen shirt. The doctor raised his eyebrows at the sheer quantity of bandages surrounding his shoulder, but removed them without comment and peered closely at the woundsite.

“Well? What’s your verdict?”

“I do believe you’ll live, my lord,” the older man replied gravely. “The stitches are well done, and there is no infection present although some of the surrounding tissue appears raw. Too much whisky dousing, I daresay, but Victoria can make a poultice to soothe that. All in all, I’d pronounce you very lucky.”

“I did try and tell everyone I am fine. But some people refused to take my word forit.”