beside myself. That must be counted progress, I should think.”
“Yes, indeed. That is a terrifying condition.” He rose and picked up her wrist. “Hmm. Still much too warm and your pulse is a bit tumultuous.”
He returned her arm to her own keeping, and Phona hastily hid it under the covers. Something about his touch, his nearness, created an unfamiliar unease. She heaved a small sigh of relief when he sat again.
“So…” He leaned back in the chair, rested his elbows on the carved arms and cupped his right hand over the folded left sleeve. “Tell me more about the dreaded Mrs. Rowsley.”
Phona thought he might have steepled his fingers, except, of course, that he had no fingers on the left hand to steeple. The thought gave her pause. How awful to lose a limb! And an eye. She quickly looked at his face.
But he had already caught her staring. He started to move his hand to his lap, then instead, resumed the position and gave her a tight-jawed look. “Does my lack of a hand distress you, Miss Hathersage?”
His voice held a hint of ice, a challenge. Phona looked steadily into the cool blue eye. His oddity did unsettle her a bit, but she refused to be intimidated by it. Or by his manner. “No, my lord, but surely it must distress you.”
“It does so no longer. But let us return to Mrs. Rowsley.”
Phona heard the lie in his voice. His loss still distressed him very much. But she had no strength to deal with the subject. Let him deal with it himself!
“Yes, well, though it is sometimes hard to credit, she is Mama’s bosom friend. Yet the least thing puts them at dagger-drawing. They are so envious of one another. The day I first encountered you, she gave a small party and did not invite Mama and me. Mama was quite distraught.”
“Over an invitation to a party?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Mama is much given to the vapors.” Phona sighed. “I suspect she enjoys them.”
“Very likely. But you do not?”
“No! No, indeed.” She shook her head. “I had ridden out to escape them. It is always somehow my fault, you see.”
Lord Hades raised an eyebrow. “And how did this omitted invitation come to be laid at your door?”
“I said something—well, untactful—about Mrs. Rowsley’s future son-in-law. I should not have, of course, but I had heard so much of how the very young Suzette Rowsley has already captured a fiancé, whereas I… It wears on one to have one’s shortcomings held up too often.”
“I should imagine so. And Mrs. Rowsley overheard your remark?”
“Oh, no! I would never say that in her hearing, but what must Mama do but repeat my ‘clever’ remark. So now we are all out of charity.”
“But if your Mama repeated it…?”
“It is my fault for having said it in the first place.”
His lordship—did Hades qualify as his lordship?—shook his head. “I will never understand women. What was this disastrous remark?”
Phona flushed. “That he looks as much the bantam cockerel as he sounds.”
Hades threw back his head and a roar of laughter erupted.
Phona scowled with what defiance she could muster. Then she, too, began to laugh.
She laughed until exhaustion caught up with her and tears of weakness began to escape. She wiped at them angrily, swatting at the big, linen handkerchief that appeared before her face. “Give me the handkerchief. I can do it.”
“I have no doubt you can, but today I shall do it.” Hades moved her hands away firmly and wiped her eyes.
“Stop it! I am not a child!” Phona sank wearily into the pillows.
He returned the handkerchief to his pocket. “No, my dear, you are not. Believe me, I am well aware of that fact.”
Now what in the world did he mean by that?
The footman brought the note directly to Lady Hathersage’s sitting room where she and his lordship had sought seclusion. Demetra’s breath stopped, and she grasped her throat with both hands. Dear God in heaven! Please let this be news of her dearest Phona.
Her husband took the letter, dismissing the footman with a nod. Demetra sank back into the cushions of her chaise and clutched the pillows in both hands. A sound squeezed past her lips. “George…?”
He unfolded the paper, his face grim.
“What…? What…?” Demetra leaned forward, willing him to speak. Instead he looked puzzled. She slid to her feet and tried to read over his shoulder.
He handed her the letter. “I don’t know what to make of this. On my life, I don’t.”
“What does this mean?” She raised her gaze to his. She could not make it out without her eyeglasses, and she refused to wear them.
“I was expecting a demand for ransom.” He took the note from her trembling fingers and perused it again. “And this makes no mention of it.”
“Is she alive? Is she hurt?” Demetra reached again for the letter, but this time George did not relinquish it.
“Yes, she is alive. He says that she is well save a case of la grippe.”
“La grippe! I told her it was too cool to ride that afternoon. But did she listen…?”
“Enough, Demetra! That is hardly the point.” Lord Hathersage scowled.
Recoiling in astonishment, Demetra took refuge behind a lacy handkerchief, and sank onto the chaise. Fresh tears filled her eyes. George never growled at her.
He continued, “This scoundrel says that he must keep her with him for her own safety. He suggests that we put it about that she is exhausted and has gone to Bath to take the waters.”
A delicate snort erupted from the chaise. “Phona exhausted? Phona drinking the waters? No one will believe that.”
His lordship gave her another look, and Demetra subsided. Her husband continued to read. “He assures me that as soon as the danger is past, he will return her to us unscathed.”
“Unscathed? Does he mean that he will not…? Or…oh, my God, George! What if he already has!” Demetra’s hands flew to cover her face. “Oh! She will never marry. I will have failed her completely.”
“Damn his bloody soul to hell! He’d best not have. If he is trying to force a marriage with an heiress, I shall pull him limb from limb! I shall cut off his bloody…” He glanced at her and broke off.
Dear heaven! Demetra had never seen him so angry. For a moment she feared apoplexy. Then her own anger welled up in her, almost choking her.
“No, George. You will hold him, and I shall wield the knife!”
Chapter Four
As the days passed, the unimaginable oddness of the situation began to fade. The men cared for her as Lily and Nurse might have, and Phona found herself accepting their ministrations. She even found herself looking forward to another chat with Lord Hades each afternoon.
Just to break the monotony of the day, of course.
She had slept better the previous night than before, allowing his lordship to do the same. But even though he probably was not sleeping this morning, she had not seen him since he’d left his cot.
When he did appear, Phona found herself alternately elated and dismayed. He came in with Aelfred, bearing a small table and basin, while his henchman was laden with clean sheets. Hades set his burden down