Behind the Marquess's Mask (The Lords of Whitehall Book 1) (25 page)

Nick returned after he had seen Bexley off to tell Grey that Kathryn was ready to be taken back to Berkeley Square. Grey sat in the same spot on the floor where he had caught Kathryn, unable to move.

“Would you do me a favor?” Grey asked, finally looking up from the blood staining his shaking hands.

“Of course, Grey.”

“Spread a bit of gossip for me?”

“Gossip?” Nick laughed incredulously. “Me?”

“You are in the right circles, Nick. You are fashionable, titled, wealthy, charming…” Grey paused at his friend’s raised eyebrow then added firmly, “Good
ton
and well-liked. No one will question your account of things. I need you to say Bexley was the man found in that library, and Kathryn is innocent. Tell them I have redeemed her honor today. I shall deal with Wheeling later.”

A slow smile spread across Nick’s face. “It would be a pleasure.”

G
rey accompanied
the doctor and Kathryn back to Ainsley Place where Dr. Meade would be waiting to take over.

As soon as he walked in with her in his arms, he saw the thickset physician’s disapproving glare. Grey ignored him and walked past, carrying her up the stairs and into her apartments. She had been unconscious since she was shot.

Once he laid her in her bed, he smoothed the backs of his fingers over her pale cheek. He took her hand and brought his mouth down to kiss the back, the palm, every finger, and then he sat with her hand still pressed into his, afraid if he left, he might never see her again.

The wound itself wasn’t fatal unless it caught infection, but she had lost an awful lot of blood for such a little body. Bodies needed blood.

Dr. Meade cleared his throat from behind Grey. “Move aside, lad, so I can take a look at the lady,” he ordered, shuffling to the bed.

Grey mutely rose, forcing his fingers to release Kathryn’s hand. Then he stepped aside to lean on the wall by the head of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest and one ankle over the other. He gestured to Kathryn with a sweep of his hand.

Dr. Meade began the preliminary examination. After a few minutes, he spoke again without bothering to meet Grey’s dark scowl.

“As you have probably already ascertained, the bullet missed her heart, but she lost a great deal of blood.”

Grey’s lungs seized in his chest. How much was a great deal?

“You will need to step out,” Dr. Meade said flatly, as he glanced up from his spot at the bedside.

“I shall not,” Grey said tightly. At the moment, he wasn’t entirely sure he could move if he wanted to.

“Ainsley, lad, I have to do a thorough examination on your wife. You might be more comfortable just outside the door,” he replied quietly. “It will not take long.”

Dr. Meade was right. If Grey saw Kathryn get as thorough an examination as he had received when he had been wounded, Grey would kill the good doctor. Nevertheless, he knew it was necessary.

Grey clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth with the effort, as he straightened and headed for the door one foot at a time.

* * *

K
athryn swam
in a sea of lights and shadows. She heard Grey’s voice, but she couldn’t see anything. All she knew was that it was coming from the light. She had to reach for the light.

Her eyes blinked open to a familiar face, but it wasn’t Grey’s.

“Ah, Kathryn, how are you feeling?” Dr. Meade frowned down at her, lifting her hand to feel her wrist.

She grunted. How was she feeling, indeed. Her head felt like a boulder had rested on it for the last few hundred years or so, her shoulder must have been trampled by Her Majesty’s cavalry, and everything else on her ached as though she had swum to America and back.

“You are feeling the pain again, naturally. I can help you with that, if only a little.” He pulled out a dropper from his bag and added some of its contents to a glass of water.

Kathryn pushed down against the soft mattress to sit upright, but if she moved even an inch, she didn’t notice. Nor did Dr. Meade, it seemed, because he slid his giant hand behind her shoulders and effortlessly raised her just enough to comfortably drink the mixture.

After a small sip, she realized how thirsty she was and gulped down half the cup.

“Slow down a bit before you drown,” he warned, pulling away the glass and easing her back down. “You ought to rest well now. I shall stay in the adjoining sitting room a while to be near in case you need me.” He gathered his instruments and put them back into his bag.

On his way out, he paused, regarding her soberly. “I am disappointed in you. I have known you for a long time, Kathryn. I never thought you would act so selfishly. Thankfully, the baby is unharmed in spite of you.”

“
Baby?
” Kathryn echoed airily as the medicine began to take effect, pulling her back into a dreary blur.

“Ainsley is a trained assassin. He knows the risks, and he weighs them all fairly. Perhaps in the future, you could think about who else you are endangering before you put yourself in the way of a bullet.”

He shook his head and walked out, leaving Kathryn desperately trying to hang on to consciousness.

* * *

G
rey intended
to retire to his study and resolve how to explain to his wife that a country estate would be much more desirable and practical than an exile to Italy. After all, he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go to Italy, and he couldn’t keep her here against her will, no matter how much his heart, body, or soul told him otherwise. And he was sure it would be against her will.

She might have felt something for him, but she hadn’t been lying when she had said she never wanted to see him again. He just needed her nearby so he could prove to her he had changed and he could win her back.

And if whales jumped high enough, the birds would think they had grown wings.

Grey ran a hand through his hair. It was hopeless. He was hopeless. How the hell would he convince
her
to stay? Or keep her from running off to Italy if that were what she wanted? She would stow away on a bloody cargo ship if she had to.

He could always beg.

He shook his head. Hell, but she had looked so angry. Angry enough to disappear to a distant country, never to be seen again. How could he blame her? All he had ever brought her was pain and danger and lies and…. Ah, the list was ongoing.

No wonder she thought him incapable of love. He had reinforced the notion frequently. Hell, even he had believed himself incapable until recently.

The quiet click of a door had him spinning around to see Dr. Meade exiting Kathryn’s apartments.

“How is she?”

Dr. Meade nodded encouragingly. “She will be fine as long as she stays in bed and eats well. I gave my orders to the housekeeper. It’s all taken care of.”

“Bed… food,” Grey repeated plainly. “It seems simple enough. May I see her?” Grey’s eyes narrowed warily. “She hasn’t said she doesn’t want to see me, has she?”

“No, she hasn’t, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had. Thoughtless chit.” The doctor snorted, muttering something offensive under his breath.

A deep protectiveness welled up inside Grey, and his brow knit irritably. “If I hear another word against my wife from you, you will find yourself unable to say much else.”

Dr. Meade puffed out his chest yet said nothing. Then Grey watched him disappear down the hall.

With a calming breath, Grey turned to slip quietly into Kathryn’s room.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a glow around everything with its gold and red shafts of light shooting in from the tall windows.

He went straight to her and settled in the chair next to the bed. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was spread out over her pillow. The maids had scurried in hours ago with hot water and bandages, taking her bloodied gown away when they had left. Now she lay in her night rail as though she hadn’t nearly died a few hours ago.

Again.

“I must be insane,” he muttered, bowing his head to run both hands through his hair. Then he buried his face in his palms.

How could he have fallen in love with this beautiful hoyden who had overturned every inch of his unsatisfying and miserable life and left him upside down and confused?

How could he ever live without her?

A faint moan had him peeking at the bed through his fingers. Her eyes had fluttered open, big, blue eyes, albeit a bit groggy. She looked around for a moment before she noticed him.

“Hello,” she breathed and smiled sleepily. She looked as though she were still dreaming, seeing someone she actually wanted to see. Dr. Meade must have given her a generous dose of laudanum. Thanks to the doctor, now might be the best time to convince her to take Derbyshire.

“I made a mistake, Kathryn,” Grey declared, not unlike a man facing a firing squad. “I should not have married you as I did.”

* * *

K
athryn thought
she was still dreaming. It was a wonderful dream where Grey quietly came to her sickbed. He looked absolutely wretched from worry. His dark hair was romantically tousled and falling into his eyes, which were bright with more feeling than she had ever seen in them before.

Then his words had her crashing back down to reality.

Her smile slipped. “There’s no point in lamenting over what you should or should not have done. We both made mistakes.”

“Let’s not make more.” Piercing gray eyes met hers resolutely. “Take Derbyshire. Please.”

A sedate, ordinary life in the country, surrounded by his things with nothing to fill her days except to wonder if he would ever visit her? She would shrivel up and die.

“I cannot,” she replied stiffly.

“Believe me, you can,” Grey persisted. “You will have a carriage for conveyance and an escort for navigation.”

“No,” she returned firmly. “I doubt life in England would be very pleasant for me at the moment.”

“Is that the reason?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair, lounging in that rakish, half-lying position that seemed to come naturally to him. “You are concerned about that honor you leave lying around whilst you wander off doing God knows what?”

“My honor,” she returned coolly. “What honor?”

“The honor I defended today in a duel, according to what Nick has been spreading all over London.” He regarded her intently, the look contrasting with his devil-may-care appearance. “I was only trying to keep you safe. I knew you were in danger because of your proximity to me, and I needed to get you away. An opportunity presented itself when Wheeling fabricated the scandal.”

Kathryn’s brow knit. “You
knew?”

Grey nodded slowly.

Kathryn glared at him.

“I made so many mistakes with you,” he muttered. “If I hadn’t gone to war or started working for Matthews; if I were a good man—”

“How far-fetched is this going to get?” Kathryn raised a brow.

His mouth pulled into a small, crooked smile. “Prickly thing. I would have snatched you up the day of your coming out and wooed you until you could see no one but me.”

Kathryn blinked, desperately working to determine at what point she had fallen asleep. One minute, they were having a normal, if slightly hostile, conversation. The next, he was telling her he wanted to woo her.

“I would have asked you to marry me until you gave in. Begged, even,” he said, lounging rakishly as his silvery-gray eyes swept over her. “I would have taken you to Florence on honeymoon and kept you in bed for weeks. I would have held your hand whilst we walked through the vineyards. I would have taken you to the opera every night just so I could watch you.” His smile slowly faded. “I would have whisked you away to Derbyshire as soon as you began increasing, and I would have never left your side, not for an instant. The day you delivered, I would have been swollen with unconscionable pride, holding our child in my arms and planning all the things we would do together.”

Kathryn stopped caring when it was she had fallen asleep. She swallowed past the lump in her throat as her vision began to blur.