Janice Preston

Mary And The Marquis


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had been a grim few hours and Mary was exhausted. She leaned her head against the high back of the wing chair. Her eyelids drooped. Aware she was on the brink of sleep, she pushed herself back to her feet. She went to the window. Twitching the curtain aside, she peered out, but could see only the raindrops that spattered intermittently against the glass. Shivering, she let the curtain fall back into place, then crossed to the fireplace and placed another log on the fire. She glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf—nine of the clock. No wonder she was tired, for they had left the cottage before dawn, but she must remain alert. She must watch the patient. There was no sign of fever yet, but the doctor had said the next few days would be critical.

      There was a faint sound and the massive form of Mrs Lindley appeared in the doorway. Mary went to her and stepped out into the hallway, that they might not disturb Rothley.

      ‘I’ve come to apologise, Mrs Vale. I fear I mightn’t have given you a very proper welcome at first.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I also must thank you again for all your help.’

      ‘No thanks are necessary, Mrs Lindley. With hindsight, it is fortunate I was in the woods this afternoon. I fear, otherwise, his lordship would still be out there.’

      Mrs Lindley’s expression became sombre. ‘It don’t bear thinking about, ma’am. We must thank the Lord He saw fit to send you through the woods today. Now, are you sure you don’t mind watching over his lordship a while longer? You look exhausted. I’m worried we’ve taken your help for granted. I could stay—’

      ‘I’m happy to help,’ Mary interrupted, touching the other woman’s arm. ‘I am happy to take the first watch and then I shall enjoy some uninterrupted sleep so, please, do not tease yourself. I am grateful, to tell the truth, that we have a roof over our heads, if only for a short while.’

      Mrs Lindley directed a long look of speculation at Mary. ‘Well, if that’s the case, I’ll say goodnight. Ellen will relieve you at midnight and I’ll take over at four of the clock. It’ll be a hard task, keeping up with the nursing, I’m afraid, on top of everything else, but it’ll be a boon having you here, ma’am, I don’t mind telling you. And the bairns will be a tonic. Although it might be best...’ her eyes slid past Mary, towards Rothley’s door, before returning to Mary’s face, ‘...it might be wise if they are kept away from this part of the house.’

      ‘I shall ensure they do not disturb his lordship,’ Mary said. ‘I am sure the house is big enough for them to be kept well away. And I dare say we shall be long gone before he is up and about.’

      ‘Thank you, ma’am. I can’t say why he’s set against having bairns around, but it is so. He’s like to be a difficult enough patient as it is—’ She stopped abruptly, her lips pursed. ‘He’s been under a strain, these last few years. I hope you’ve got a thick skin, but just remember his bark is much worse than his bite.’ She grinned, then waddled away without another word.

      Mary watched her retreat, thinking over her words. She shook her head as she opened the bedchamber door and went back into the room. Why would any adult feel such aversion towards innocent children?

      ‘I thought I dreamed you.’

      The whispered words made her jump and her eyes flew to the figure in the bed.

       Chapter Three

      Rothley was awake, his dark eyes open and riveted on Mary. She swallowed nervously.

      ‘You’re awake,’ she said and then bit her lip. Goodness, what a ridiculous thing to say.

      One corner of his mouth lifted. ‘So it would seem,’ he said.

      ‘How are you feeling?’

      ‘Sore,’ he replied. ‘Tired.’

      Mary fussed about, a tremor in her hands as she straightened the covers on the bed, aware he watched her every move. He looked sinfully attractive, his black hair tousled and his dark eyes, under their heavy lids, appraising her. He had pushed the covers down almost to his waist and she pulled them higher. The top of his nightshirt lay unbuttoned, a sprinkling of dark hair just visible. She had seen him naked, whilst helping the doctor, and her blood quickened as she visualised his muscled chest, sprinkled with dark hair, glistening with sweat.

      For goodness’ sake! He’s been shot and you’re here to nurse him. What sort of a strumpet are you? She was ashamed of her physical reaction even as, contrarily, she relished the slow build of anticipation deep inside. What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt, she told herself.

      ‘Why are you here? Not that I have any objection to a beautiful woman in my bedchamber, you understand, but...where is everyone else?’

      ‘In bed, asleep, my lord. The doctor was here; he removed the bullet from your leg...’

      ‘Hmmph, I remember.’ He grimaced, stifling a moan, as he stirred under the bedcovers. ‘What a butcher...never felt such pain. But that doesn’t explain...’

      ‘The doctor said we are to sit with you, my lord, in case you develop signs of fever. Ellen will take over at midnight and then Mrs Lindley will relieve her later on. I am taking the first shift.’

      ‘With no chaperon? You are brave, my dear. Many a lady’s reputation has been ruined for less.’

      ‘I am a widow, my lord. My presence here is no different to Ellen, or to Mrs Lindley for that matter. And, might I point out, you are in no fit state to ravish anyone?’

      ‘But I wouldn’t be imagining ravishing Ellen or Mrs Lindley, now, would I? But a comely young widow—well, this is an unexpected turn of the cards.’

      In the flickering light of the candle, Mary recognised the glint of admiration in Rothley’s dark eyes as he looked her up and down. Resentment slid through her veins. It seemed as soon as a man learned she was a widow, his interest quickened. And he’s not mistaken, is he? She felt the heat build in her cheeks as she recalled her earlier thoughts. She stiffened, stepping away from the bed.

      A low chuckle sounded. ‘There is no need to retreat. As you acutely observed, I am in no state to take advantage of anyone. At least, not at present,’ he added, with a grin. ‘It is possibly a touch late for formality, but I should introduce myself. Rothley, at your service.’

      His attempt at a bow was no more than a bob of his chin as he lay in the bed and Mary bit back a smile at the absurdity. She relaxed. He was right. Despite his provocative words, he was no danger to her. Yet. And she would be long gone before he could make any serious attempt at seduction. She feared a Lord Rothley, in full health and vigour, might very well prove irresistible, despite her antipathy towards rakes in general.

      ‘I know who you are, my lord. You introduced yourself when we met in the woods.’

      He frowned. ‘The woods, you say? What...?’ His brow cleared. ‘Yes. I remember now...vaguely. I owe you my gratitude for your help today.’

      His lids drifted shut and he was silent. Mary approached the bed again and was about to sit in the chair by its side when he shifted in the bed. A moan, soon cut short, alerted Mary. She leaned closer and put her hand to his forehead. Still cool, but a touch clammy.

      Rothley opened his eyes and regarded her ruefully.

      ‘Never mind your reputation, this won’t do mine any good at all,’ he said, with a lopsided grin. ‘Here am I, in my bedchamber with a beautiful woman for company, and the only moans to be heard are my own.’

      Mary laughed at his disgruntled tone. ‘You must console yourself, my lord, with the knowledge there is nobody within hearing distance, even were you to entertain a bevy of beauties within these four walls.’

      ‘Indeed,’ he murmured, capturing her gaze, his fine lips curving. ‘My expertise would be for the sole appreciation of the recipient, would it not?’

      One dark brow lifted. He’s testing me, she