Page 11 of Once Ruined, Twice Shy

Her slender hand reached out, touching him lightly on the arm. “Friends may call each other names, may they not? And they are just as likely to bicker as enemies are. The difference being that they forgive one another afterwards, and make up.”

He placed his good hand over hers. It felt so good to touch her—he’d forgotten how unbelievably soft a woman’s skin could be.

“I believe you are a woman with a great heart, Miss Norton. Perhaps you can teach a hard-hearted brute like me a lesson or two in compassion.”

“You do yourself an injustice, sir. You are compassionate, but keep it hidden.”

The atmosphere between them changed, like the sun going behind a cloud. He detected a tremble in her lip as her eyes grew moist.

His hand tightened over hers. “Are you in pain? Shall I measure out some laudanum for you? What must I do?”

She rolled her head back and forth. When she spoke, it was as if through a mist of pain. “Oh, Lord Corsbury, I am so sorry. There is something desperately important I have to tell you—”

A knock on the door sent him leaping to his feet, his heart pounding. He’d been so totally absorbed in their conversation, the interruption was a complete shock. Curse it! What a moment to choose. But perhaps she would unburden herself of what it was she desperately wanted to say once the unwelcome visitor had gone. He confessed himself eager to hear it—he didn’t like secrets. If Josephine had told him about her former sweetheart, perhaps he could have prepared for the man’s reappearance, come up with a solution to circumvent the tragedy that had ruined his life.

“A letter for Miss Norton, your Lordship. I believe it has come from the Red Lion.”

Conall handed it to her without looking at it. It was no doubt a reply from Thatcham Hall. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it. Unless it insisted she be taken up there immediately which—of course—was unthinkable in her current state.

“I shall leave you in peace to read your letter.” He made his bow, and left the room, but lingered outside a moment, overcome by the need to know whether or not she would be leaving soon. He’d just decided it best to walk away when he heard a stifled sob.

In a trice, he’d flung open the door, and returned to her bedside. “My dear girl, whatever is the matter?”

She was as pale as the sheet on which she lay—even her lips had lost their colour. Concerned at such a violent change in her demeanour, he seized her hand and chafed it. “Is it from the Danceys? What do they say? I know we’ve been enemies since they blamed me for their daughter’s death, but there’s no reason for them to take it out on you.”

She squeezed her eyes tight shut, and he was distressed to see a tear roll down her cheek.

“No, no, nothing like that.” The covers over her breast heaved with emotion. “It is… from my brother in Bath, and has been forwarded to me. It seems my mother has been taken ill.”

Holding her hand more tightly, he had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. “What ails her?”

“They are not sure. She just… collapsed. Oh, why did I have to have that stupid accident? I should be by her side right at this moment.”

“That cannot be helped. You’re no use to your mother as you are. But it is an incentive for you to heal quickly, is it not? Is there anything I can do?”

“I believe my brother has taken care of everything.”

“I’ll ask Dr Hayward to return on the morrow and update us on your progress. We’ll see if you’re well enough to get out of bed and find out when you can begin exercising. The sooner you’re better, the sooner you may return to Bath, and be with your mama. I beg you, don’t be alarmed. There are any number of reasons a person might collapse, not all of them terrible. So, we have a plan. Does that satisfy you?”

A nod was the best reply she could manage. As he looked at her, wiping away her tears and trying to conceal her suffering, one of the bands protecting his heart snapped, and a fizz of anticipation invaded his stomach. He’d not felt this close to a woman since Josephine. How foolish of him to think he could manage forever without such feminine company.

The upsetting letter had fallen on the floor. He picked it up, only to have it violently snatched from his hand.

“Pray, don’t trouble yourself, sir. You’ve done so much already. I don’t want to burden you with my family’s problems as well as my own.” She tucked the letter beneath the blanket and gazed at him mournfully.

“I wasn’t going to read it. I was just going to replace it on the nightstand for you.”

“Forgive me. I’m all at sixes and sevens. Of course, you didn’t intend to pry.”

He reached for the laudanum bottle and glass. “You might benefit from a small dose I think, to calm your nerves.”

She nodded. Having poured the medicine, he then had the pleasure of inserting an arm beneath her shoulders so he could prop her up enough to drink it. He loved the feel of her head on his arm, and the way her dark curls spilled over his sleeve. Once she’d drunk the contents of the glass, he laid her down with the utmost tenderness and reluctantly took his leave.

Outside the door, he paused once again and had to admit to himself that he’d lied to her. Despite her charms, there was something about Miss Norton’s precipitous arrival in his life that didn’t feel quite right.

He had every intention of reading the letter which had upset her so.

Chapter 7