A Persistant Attraction (24 page)

He fought to keep his voice calm. Showing his anger would only make Amanda push harder. “Farrington made a serious error in judgment. Something he does far too often.”

“I would think that unlikely, seeing as he’s survived for years doing the same dangerous work as you.”

“He prefers to leave the greatest danger to others.”

Amanda gave Rhys a hard stare. “He certainly has far more admiration for you than you do for him.” She stormed out of the room before Rhys could continue the argument.

Damn! The fear that Amanda might be developing feelings for that suave bastard made Rhys’s stomach twist. He would never have imagined Amanda being taken in by a suave, polished man like Farrington. Sure Farrington knew how to say all the right things no matter the social situation, but Amanda should see right though his fashionable exterior to the hard core underneath.

Rhys had imagined that Amanda preferred his own rough edges. She was hardly society’s darling. She and Rhys both preferred to do things their own way, even if they couldn’t agree on the parameters of their relationship. Was he a fool to think he could make her love him?

He picked up the glass of brandy Amanda had poured him after cleaning his wound, downed the contents and threw the crystal across the room. Echoes of the crash reverberated off the walls. He wished he could break Farrington as easily. The man was responsible for the deepest agony he’d ever felt, Rhys would not let Farrington cause him any more pain.

The bastard picked that moment to arrive. When he entered, Farrington’s gaze landed on the bits of crystal scattered about the carpet. “An unfortunate accident?” he asked, grinning.

Rhys scowled. Before he could think of a scathing reply, Amanda entered wearing a light blue gown his sister had dismissed as too pale for her coloring. On Amanda it looked superb despite the fact that it was a bit too short and too loose in the waist for Amanda’s tall, thin figure. At least it covered her decently.

“Good morning, Mrs. Stanton.” Farrington acknowledged her with a nod and emphasis on her new name.

Rhys watched her carefully as she greeted the other man, but she showed no particular interest in him. She gave Rhys an assessing look. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

She snorted. “You should lie down.”

Farrington raised his brows, but Rhys ignored his obvious curiosity. “I assure you I’ll rest after I’ve finished my conversation with Lord Farrington. Are you certain you would not be more content in the library?”

Amanda shook her head and took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs that flanked the sofa. Farrington settled himself across from her.

Unfortunately, Amanda had chosen a seat where she could see the remains of the broken snifter. “I thought I heard a crash. What happened?” Rhys deeply regretted his childish outburst. “Nothing. I’ll see that it’s cleaned up later.”

She frowned at him, but he began recounting the events of the last three days before she could speak again.

“Do you have any idea who Mouton is?” Farrington asked when Rhys had finished.

Rhys nodded. “Amanda and I believe he may be Walter Linton. Someone tried to follow us when we sought privacy at my uncle’s ball. We found a watch outside the room we’d retired to with Walter’s initials on the back. He’s taken pains to disguise himself, and Walter’s body was supposedly found in France, but I had a chance to study him closely over the last few days. He’s definitely wearing a wig and cosmetics to alter his appearance. The work is good, but it doesn’t hold up to fine scrutiny.” Farrington frowned. “Why would a no-account like Walter Linton have gotten mixed up with Les Centimes?”

Amanda spoke before Rhys had a chance. “He wants revenge on me and Rhys and my sister for ruining the business scheme he and Lord Reddington had established.” Rhys nodded. “He likely sought the power of Les Centimes to help him with his more personal goal.”

Farrington ran his hand through his hair. “A personal vendetta makes him even more dangerous, but less likely to be loyal to Les Centimes if things go awry. I think you’ve given us enough information to find him and d’Eglantine. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

With Farrington gone, Rhys wanted nothing more than to sweep Amanda into his arms, take her upstairs and ravish her. Perhaps if he overwhelmed her senses with pleasure he would make further progress on their relationship. At least they could coexist for a few hours without fighting.

But pain seared his arm and even he admitted he needed rest. His wound burned so hot he expected flames to leap from it. Amanda would never permit him to exhaust himself. He tried to push the pain from his mind, but a wave of dizziness hit as reached the stairs, and he had to grab the newel post.

Amanda took his arm. “Should I summon a footman to help you upstairs?” He straightened immediately, fighting back a harsh retort. The very idea. He could certainly manage to get to his bed without assistance. He held out his arm for her. “I am more than capable of getting to my room on my own power.” She took his arm, and he leaned on her more than he would have liked as they ascended to the second floor. His legs refused to cooperate, as if his bones had simply dissolved. He directed Amanda to the bedroom the servants had prepared for him and practically fell into bed.

He’d asked a servant to bring him a fresh shirt so he could struggle back into his clothes while Amanda had gone upstairs to change. Now he doubted he had the strength to undress. He dragged his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath, humiliated to show such weakness in front of Amanda.

She knelt by the side of the bed and tugged off his boots. When she’d removed them, she leaned over and worked at the buttons of his waistcoat, then pulled his shirt free of his waistband. He sat up enough to get them off while she loosened the buttons of his trousers.

He lay back against the pillows, out of breath from the simple act of sitting up. Still his body responded to the touch of Amanda’s fingers along his groin.

She looked up, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you’re contemplating a repeat of what happened earlier.”

He smiled. “If it weren’t for my damned arm, I’d be doing more than contemplating.

A gentleman on death’s door couldn’t help responding to your touch.”

“I only want to get you dressed for bed. And you’re hardly a gentleman.” He laughed despite his weariness. “That may be so, but you cannot touch a man of any sort in such a fashion without expecting a response.”

“Then once you are well, you’ll have to satisfy my curiosity about the male body.” She smiled, looking far too much like a cat. His first instincts about her had been right.

She was a dangerous woman.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Having successfully loosened his trousers, she tugged at them, trying to pull them off. He lifted his hips to assist her, watching as she gazed longingly at his cock. He didn’t know whether to smile or weep. If only he had the strength to take her again.

Amanda realized he’d noticed her interest and turned away abruptly. She collected his clothes and laid them over the arm of a chair. “I don’t suppose you have a nightshirt stored here.”

He laughed. “Amanda, dear. I haven’t worn nightshirts since I left school.”

“Oh. Then I suppose you have everything you need.” She turned toward the door, keeping her gaze averted from his naked form. She was such a delightful combination of the innocence and temptation.

“Where do you think you are going?” he asked.

She turned and managed to gaze only at his face. “To my room.”

“This is your room. You are my wife now, remember?”

“We just established that you need to sleep.” He groaned. His eyelids felt heavier with each breath. “That hardly precludes us from sharing a bed.”

“But I thought most married couples had separate rooms.”

“
Some
couples sleep separately.
We
will not. I have no intention of foregoing the feel of your warm body next to mine.”

“What if I prefer privacy?”

Rhys fought the urge to close his eyes and let sleep consume him. “You will come to understand the benefits of sharing. Besides, I could grow more ill in the night and have need of you.”

Amanda scowled. “That was a pathetic attempt to appeal to my concerns for you, but I will stay. Do allow me to retrieve a nightgown, though.”

“No. I want you naked.”

“But—”

“Amanda we’re married, and we were most thoroughly intimate mere hours ago.

There is no need to be missish.”

He knew his comment would get to her, and it did. She stripped off her dress and chemise with jerky motions and flung them on the chair with his clothes.

“If you insist on sharing the bed, then please move over to give me room.” With supreme effort, he scooted from the center of the bed to the far side. Pain raced up his arm with every movement, but it was well worth the agony to have her next to him.

Fortunately she’d chosen to lie on his good side, so he was able to pull her against him and place her head on his chest.

“You’re burning up. Are you sure I shouldn’t summon a doctor?”

“You are all I need,” he murmured as he slipped into sleep.

*

“No. Back away.”

Strong hands gripped Amanda’s shoulders, waking her instantly.

“We’ve got to go after them.”

“Rhys?”

He didn’t respond, nor could she pry his fingers from her arms.

“Rhys!”

“No. I won’t let them kill her.”

“Rhys, wake up. You’re dreaming.” When she managed to free one of her arms, she reached for his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.

His skin was on fire. Far hotter than it had been when they’d gone to bed.

“Rhys can you hear me?”

He made no verbal response, but he released her other arm and fell back onto the bed, scrubbing at his eyes with his hands. “It’s too late. It’s too late.”

“Please wake up.” Amanda kept shaking him, but she got no response. The fever had him firmly in its grip.

Moments later, he settled and drifted into a deeper sleep. Amanda rose and searched the dark room for the stand where she’d seen a pitcher and basin. Fortunately, it was located by the window, and the moon gave enough light for her to find towels and wet them with the cold water.

She found her way back to the bed and knelt beside Rhys. She laid one towel on his forehead and used the other to sponge his chest. She remembered her nanny making a poultice that pulled fever from the body, but she had no idea what had been in it. All she could do was try to cool his skin and make him comfortable enough to sleep.

Perhaps one of the servants would know what to do. At least they could send a note to Lord Farrington. Amanda felt certain he could find a physician who would not ask the wrong questions. Rhys would be angry if she asked for Farrington’s help, but his health was her first priority. She would not let him die before they gave their marriage a chance to succeed.

His breathing slowed as she bathed his body with the cool towels. She took a break and found a few candles which she lit so she could dress in the clothes she’d worn the night before. Once her body was covered, she used the bell pull to summon a servant.

Whitbread, the man who’d shown them into the house the night before, appeared almost instantly. He was as impeccably dressed and groomed as if it were midday.

“How can I help you, madam?”

“Mr. Stanton is unwell. Does any of the staff have medical knowledge that would be of use in bringing his fever down?”

“Yes, madam. Kate, the maid assigned to you, was of great help to my sister when she suffered childbed fever. Lord Farrington hired her for these skills. I’ll summon her right away. Would you like tea or a breakfast tray sent up for yourself?” The mention of food made Amanda realize she was starving. She hadn’t eaten much the day before, and she had missed supper entirely. “Yes, both. Thank you.”

“Will there be anything else?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You have only to call if you think of something. We’ll do everything we can to help you and Mr. Stanton.”

“Thank you. He was most adamant that he did not want a physician called, but I cannot let him suffer.”

“Hopefully Kate will be able to heal him. I will see that she is sent up right away.” A few moments later, Kate knocked at the door. Amanda explained the situation and the young maid set some herbs to burn in a censor, saying they would cleanse the room and promote healing. Then she prepared a poultice for Rhys’s chest much like the one Amanda remembered from childhood. She instructed Amanda to keep bathing him as she had been doing. Otherwise, all they could do was wait.

Amanda refused to leave Rhys’s bedside as she waited all through the morning and afternoon, growing more exhausted and distraught as each hour passed. He alternated between resting peacefully and thrashing about in the throes of more nightmares. From what she could gather of his broken words, he was reliving something terrible that had happened in France. He kept mentioning a woman’s name, Therese. The pain in his voice brought tears to Amanda’s eyes.

The evening wore on without Rhys awakening. Amanda decided to summon Lord Farrington and inquire about a physician. She wrote a note, rang the bell and instructed Whitbread to deliver her missive to Lord Farrington. Whitbread returned a while later and

told her the footman had been unable to track down Farrington. The note had been left with the man’s valet.

At some point in the night, Amanda fell asleep in a chair beside the bed. She did not wake until Kate knocked on the door, bringing a breakfast tray for her and a fresh poultice for Rhys. Bright sun streamed in the window, indicating that it was late morning.

She cursed herself for falling asleep when Rhys could have needed her. But when she leaned over to check his forehead, relief washed over her. “His skin is cooler, and it’s damp.”

“That’s a good sign, madam. If he’s sweating, then his fever has broken. I bet he’ll be waking for us any time now. Why don’t you let me help you get a bath and change into fresh clothes?”

Amanda looked at her rumpled dress. She longed for a bath, but she could not leave Rhys until he was awake. “Thank you, Kate, but I want to be here if he wakes.”