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That depends on who you’re asking, she almost blurted out.
Feeling Dustin’s eyes upon her, she glanced over, realizing by the slight twitch of his lips that he’d read her thoughts as clearly as if she’d spoken them aloud.
“All right.” Ducking her head to hide her flaming cheeks, Nicole tugged off first one boot, then the other, wondering how the duke would react once he learned who she was.
“Let Stoddard go, Trent.” Evidently, Dustin had decided to take pity on her and salvage her modesty. “He looks worse than I do.” The statement ended on a groan, and Nicole’s head shot up, all nonsensical thoughts vanishing in the wake of his pain.
“Just a little more,” Trenton appeased, inching the shirt down Dustin’s arms, lifting him enough to yank it free, leaving a dozen angry bruises in its wake. “There. Done.” He looked up as Poole hurried in, carrying a basin and some towels, a bottle of brandy tucked beneath his arm.
“Dr. Welish is here, sir,” the butler announced.
“Good.” Trenton glanced at Nicole. “You do look shaken, Stoddard. Go to your quarters and rest.”
“No.”
The word was out before she could restrain it.
Trenton’s dark brows rose. “Pardon me
?”
“It’s all right, Trent,” Dustin murmured weakly. “Let him wait in the sitting room.”
With an astonished shake of his head, Trenton conceded. “Fine. Wait in the sitting room.”
An hour later, Poole came to summon Nicole. “Lord Tyreham wishes to see you.”
She leaped to her feet. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, thank heavens. His lordship’s excellent physical condition prevented him from sustaining a more serious thrashing.” A smug lift of Poole’s brows. “It also helped him deliver an unexpected, and most certainly unwelcome, retaliation.”
Nicole found herself grinning. “How unfortunate for his attackers.”
“Yes, wasn’t it?” Poole sniffed. “In any case, the marquis is experiencing a bit of pain, but the brandy is already alleviating that. Overall, he’s doing remarkably well.” A brief flicker of emotion crossed Poole’s face. “Thank you, Stoddard. From all of us at Tyreham. Your swift and courageous actions spared his lordship further injury. We’re grateful.” He drew himself up, protocol restored. “You’re welcome to see him now.”
Swallowing, Nicole nodded. Then she hurried into the hall and up the stairs to Dustin’s room.
Trenton answered her knock. “Stoddard.” There was a definite gentling to his tone.
Had Dustin told him?
No, Nicole decided, studying the duke’s face. There was no indication that he knew.
“Trent, let me speak with Stoddard alone.” Dustin’s voice was tired but definite.
His brother’s jaw tightened. “If this is about Aldridge …”
“Later, Trent,” Dustin interrupted. “Give me a few minutes. You’ll have your answers.”
With a curt nod, Trenton left, closing the door in his wake.
Nicole crossed the room in a heartbeat, kneeling beside the bed. “Are you all right?” She reached out, touched the bandage that traversed Dustin’s ribs, her lashes damp with the tears she could no longer suppress.
His hand lifted, fingertips catching the moisture on her cheeks. “You’re beautiful. And, yes, I’m fine.”
She kissed the hollow at the base of his throat, one of the few exposed spots that wasn’t reddened, swollen, or bandaged. “At the moment, I’m anything but beautiful. I’m murderous. I want to kill those animals myself.”
She felt his chuckle ripple against her mouth. “Had I known how fiercely protective you are—and how adept at transporting me around—I wouldn’t have hired Saxon.” He framed her face, lifting it so their gazes locked. “Do you think you got to Saxon in time?”
