here alone and delirious throughout the night, did you?”
Panic rushed over Phona. She could not sleep in the same room with a man…with him. “But…I don’t need…”
Lord Hades grinned at her in his most piratical manner. “Do you prefer that I share the bed with you as I did last night?”
Heat rushed to Phona’s face, and she covered it with both hands. “You did not! You could not.”
The blue eye twinkled. “I could, Miss Hathersage, and I did.”
As shame suffused his guest’s lovely face, Leo immediately regretted his words. He hastily sat on the edge of the bed and gently drew her hands away from her face. “No, no, Miss Hathersage. Forgive me for teasing you. We did not share the sheets. I lay atop the quilt.” He smiled. “Had I a naked sword, I should have placed it between us, as did the knights of old.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds both very dangerous and very uncomfortable.”
Leo could not help but laugh. “Indeed, it does, however virtuous and romantic. But have no fear. Your honor is quite intact.”
“If anyone ever learns of the fact, that will make no difference at all. My reputation will be in tatters. If Mrs. Rowsley ever gets wind of it…”
“No one will ever hear a word of it from me—I swear to you.”
“Word of a…?”
Leo laughed aloud. “Clever minx. Do you suppose you will find me out that easily? I swear on my family’s honor.”
“A conveniently anonymous family.” She turned her face.
Leo paused. Had a man questioned his heritage in that manner, violence would certainly have ensued. But this was not a man. This was a woman, a very sick woman, one with a genuine grievance. He moved from the bed back to the chair and took a steadying breath. “Just so, Miss Hathersage.”
Perhaps the expression on his face warned her that she had gone too far. She looked at him again, started to speak, subsided once more. Finally, she closed her eyes and sighed.
Once again Leo felt a complete brute. How was she to know that at one time his parentage was a very tender subject with him? And she looked so pulled and pale. What was he doing bullying a lady too weak even to respond?
He leaned forward in the chair. “My dear, I assure you I meant no harm. You were so very ill. I could not leave you, yet I was weary and cold to the bone. If you can but seal your own lips, the matter is forgotten.”
Without opening her eyes she muttered, “You are not acquainted with Mrs. Rowsley.”
Leo chuckled and leaned back as she drifted into sleep. “Thank God.”
If the previous night had been Hell for his guest, the next night exceeded that condition for Leo. She tossed and moaned. One moment she clutched the quilts to her chin, her teeth rattling in her head and chills racking her small body. Minutes later she flung them away, revealing the sweat-soaked nightshirt clinging to every feature of that well-molded form.
Leo tried to do the noble thing and avert his gaze from high, round breasts crowned with firm nipples peeping through the damp linen. From perfectly formed legs unveiled by the rucked-up hem.
By midnight he had developed a very strained view of nobility. A lovely lady lay in his bed, and that constituted a major improvement over recent months. He would never lay a hand on a helpless woman, but she would be well again someday and still in his bed.
Might she stay there willingly?
Angry with himself, Leo shook his head in frustration and firmly tucked the quilt around her. He was doing it again, letting his self-imposed deprivation make him vulnerable to misconduct. He must muster his self- discipline. He would not put himself in the wrong again.
True, he should have smelled the trap when he found Celeste in his bedchamber. He should have known that no innocent maiden would put herself in that position, accepting forbidden intimacy with a mutilated wreck of a man.
But he never, never should have taken a virgin.
Or so he believed her at the time. How foolish she must have thought him. How she must have laughed as she wrapped herself around him.
He had not ventured to approach any woman since his maiming—not since the first one had backed away from him, horror on her face. But Celeste had enchanted him, and he had been made weak with need. He had gone against his principles and made love to a woman he believed to be an innocent.
Had Celeste truly been a virgin, he would have married her, of course. But that did not answer to his conscience. The real bite of some of the accusations that had been fired at him later was that they bit too close to the bone.
He had failed his own standards. He had given up his discipline. He had broken his own rules.
What disturbed him the most was that, for once in his life, he had thoroughly enjoyed doing it.
When Phona awakened again, it was daylight. As promised, Lord Hades lay sleeping on the cot, his long form stretched the length of it, and his feet hanging over the end. Locks of hair, escaped from the ribbon, curled around his face and made him look younger and…yes, less ferocious. He was snoring just a little.
What a difference in his aspect! Did snoring make everyone seem harmless? Phona had only seen Hades as big and threatening. Commanding and enforcing obedience. Brooking no resistance.
Piratical.
Now he looked… Well, human. She supposed even brigands had to sleep sometimes. But clearly, this man had not always been an outlaw. Not only his knowledge of the classics, but—except for the few words spoken to the man called Hardesty—his speech and address marked him an educated man. How could he have come to this?
Phona rested her eyes for a moment. They still burned and felt blurry. When she opened them again, a single blue eye regarded her steadily. Just that suddenly his humanity dissolved. He became once more the indomitable force.
“Good morning, Miss Hathersage.” He swung his feet over the side of the cot. “Apparently we both slept at last. How do you feel this morning?”
“Better than yesterday evening.” Phona tried to sit up, failed and fell back against the pillow. “Not well enough.”
“That is to be expected. You had developed a very high fever before I could get you out of the rain and cold.” He rose to his feet. “Forgive me if I leave you for a while. I’ll let Aelfred know you are awake. He will bring you something to eat.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I am confident that gruel is on the menu.”
“No doubt, at least once before the day is out. And several cups of nasty medicine. I will come again this afternoon after I have slept. Try to do the same. Your rest last night was badly disturbed.” He grinned, and again regained a hint of the human. “And obey Aelfred while I am absent.”
Phona grimaced, and he laughed aloud as he went out.
During a dismal, foggy day, Phona dutifully slept, ate as much as she could and drank from the bitter cup. In spite of the fog in her mind and the fire in her limbs, she suddenly noticed that she was eating from silver implements and sipping from fine china. Now where in the world would a man like Hades come by those niceties?
Unless, of course, he stole them.
After breakfast Aelfred brought her a fresh nightshirt. “We’ll see to changing the linens as soon as you are able to sit in the chair, miss,” he assured her. Phona could hardly wait. The sheets had become damp and sticky with perspiration.
The day dragged on interminably. She still had trouble staying alert. Sometime after a light nuncheon—which had included a slice of bread with her gruel—she woke abruptly from a doze to find Lord Hades sitting in the chair beside her bed, reading.
He