Candice Hern (72 page)

"I appreciate your words of advice, Bertie," he said. "But I promise you, I will not do anything foolish. And, as you say, once I have thrown off this wretched confinement, I shall be moving on. And believe me, I would not for the world do anything to hurt Miss Ashburton. She is much too delightful a young woman to be trifled with."

"Well, then," Albert said, "we must think about getting you back to Town soon, old chap, where there are plenty of women willing to be trifled with."

Sedge threw back his head and laughed.

Albert changed the subject and launched into a ribald tale of one of their mutual friends, whose two mistresses, each unaware of the other, happened to meet and compare notes. The man had been forced to leave Town to escape their dual wrath.

Sedge listened to Albert with only half an ear. His mind was still full of questions about Meg, his feelings for her, his motivations, his plans for her. This was all so new for him, this swelling of emotion he felt for her. And despite what he had told Albert, he was certain it had nothing to do with his confinement to bed. Had he met her in any other circumstance, he would have felt the same.

He had come to recognize her step in the hallway as she approached the door to his bedchamber, and his heart quickened at the very sound. Each time she entered his room, with a radiant smile as if nothing pleased her more than just to see him, he was filled with a sudden rush of longing. It was as though there had been an empty place in his heart, and she had somehow slipped in to fill it.

His friends had told him he would know when the right woman came along. Well, he knew it. At least, he thought he knew it. He was fairly certain that he knew it. In thirty-six years, no other woman had affected him so. She
must
be the one.

But he would not rush his fences. He wanted to court her properly, once he was up and about. He wanted to do things right.

And he would not tell Albert or anyone else. He wanted to be absolutely sure of his own feelings, and he wanted to attempt to determine her feelings as well. He was fairly certain she was attracted to him. She occasionally gave him a look that seared him to the bone, though he suspected she was unaware of the desire written so clearly on her face. She had admitted how much she enjoyed being with him, and talking with him. If nothing else, they had developed a wonderful friendship. But he must be certain that she might be interested in more than friendship before making any decisions.

After all, Meg was well past the age when most women married. Perhaps she was not interested in marriage. He could not imagine that in all these years no other man had shown an interest in her. In fact, he had more than once caught a certain look in Dr. Garthwaite's eye as he glanced at Meg. His eyes often followed her across the room when he thought she was not looking. Sedge wondered if there were any expectations from that quarter? But he had never seen Meg look at the doctor with anything like desire.

Perhaps his own vanity clouded his judgment. Most women of his acquaintance were fairly open in their desire for him.

But Meg Ashburton was not most women.

He wanted to know how she felt, to know what she wanted. And once he had made his decision, he did not want to make any mistakes. He wanted to do things right.

He wanted to court Meg properly.

* * *

Meg ran the stiff-bristled dandy brush over Bristol Blue's back in long, firm, sweeping strokes. It was an activity she had been doing since she was a child, and she performed the task almost absently as her mind wandered from stable matters, to minor household crises, to Gram's problem in the stillroom, to Sedge. It always came back to Sedge. Her mind was full of him. And so was her heart.

Brushing backward and downward over the roan's flanks, she wondered how Sedge was progressing with the crutches. She had spoken to Dr. Garthwaite as he left earlier that morning, and he had encouraged Meg to leave the viscount alone with his valet for a few hours so that he could practice in private.

"Several weeks in bed can make a body stiff and uncooperative," the doctor had said. "His use of the crutches is still somewhat feeble and awkward." He gave her a knowing glance. "I am sure you would not want to embarrass him by being witness to his weakness, Meg. Give him a little time."

Meg had turned away, conscious of her heightened color. But then the doctor had confirmed that Sedge was impatient to be mobile once again, and knew that with practice he would soon manage the crutches with steadiness and skill.

"He should not be allowed to hobble beyond the bedchamber for a day or two," the doctor had told Meg. "And when he finally does, he will require assistance on the stairs. But let him wander a bit. He needs the exercise."

"Is there anything further we need to do for him?" Meg had asked.

"I have adjusted the splint," he replied, "and tied it slightly differently to make it easier to walk. I gave several extra sets of bandages to his valet and showed him how to replace them, how to braid the tails to keep the splint tight. He seems a competent man. Lord Sedgewick is in good hands, Meg. He will be just fine."

Meg had been anxious to go to him, anxious to see him walking again. But she had taken the doctor's advice and left him alone with Pargeter for the entire morning, while she took Bristol Blue for a long run.

She flipped Bristol's dark gray mane to the other side of his neck, then began to bring it back again with the brush, one lock at a time. She no longer bothered to deny her feelings for Sedge. They had grown stronger and stronger with each hour she spent by his side. She had never before felt this way about a man, except for the brief infatuation with this same man six years ago. But it was different now. Then, she had been captivated by his smile and a few moments of kindness. Now, she knew him as a person.

During the hours she had spent with him she had discovered that the charm and affability went beyond the smile. He was a genuinely kind, sweet-natured, generous, compassionate man. She loved talking with him. It was as easy and comfortable as talking to Terrence. But she had discussed subjects with Sedge that she had never broached with Terrence. Or even with Gram. Somehow, he put her so at ease that she shamelessly and effortlessly bared her soul to him.

He was also incredibly handsome, Meg thought, smiling to herself as she continued to brush Bristol's mane right out from the roots, to make it shine like gun metal. She held the silky mane in her hands and thought of Sedge's hair. She adored his long blond hair, which was mostly the color of honey, but also contained several lighter streaks, especially in the front. She hoped he would keep it rakishly long, as it was now, but suspected he would cut it short when he returned to Town for the Season. And she loved his brilliant blue eyes, even when they almost disappeared from sight as they crinkled into slits as he grinned. Often, they flashed with shared amusement or mischief or enthusiasm. But occasionally she had noticed them darken as they locked with hers, and at such times the air seemed to tremble between them.

Meg did not misunderstand the desire in his eyes. She had been around men long enough to recognize it for what it was. She had discovered at a young age that men could be lustful creatures—as randy as Thomhill stallions—and Meg had been ignoring such looks for years. But with this particular man, she wanted to believe it was real, to believe there was some real feeling behind the physical desire.

But she knew him to be a rake, she reminded herself as she began to brush Bristol's tail. An accomplished womanizer must necessarily be very good at that sort of thing, at making a woman feel desirable. She grasped the end of roan's dock and held it out straight, then let down one gray lock at a time, brushing out the ends first and working up to the roots. It was what rakes did, after all—convince women to capitulate to their seduction. But she did not expect Sedge would ever go any further than seducing her with his eyes. He was a gentleman, after all. He would not make any sort of improper offer.

But neither did she expect any more respectable offer from him. She could never forget that she was a six-foot tall, red- haired Amazon. And a hoyden to boot, to hear Gram tell it. Such a woman could not expect any serious interest from a man like Lord Sedgewick. Oh, he had been friendly and kind, and had shown a real interest in her work in the stables. But then, what man was not interested in horses? As much as she would love to believe otherwise, she knew there was nothing special in Sedge's feelings toward her.

After finishing Bristol's grooming so that he gleamed like Birmingham silver from head to foot, Meg returned to the house to change her clothes and have a leisurely bath. This day, when Sedge was able to walk for the first time, she had no wish to go to him smelling of horse. She dressed with care, selecting a turquoise muslin dress with long, full sleeves and an open V-neck filled in with a cambric chemisette. Her maid styled Meg's hair in a variation of its usual low knot in the back, with more curls artfully arranged around her face.

Meg finally dismissed the maid and surveyed herself in the cheval glass. Standing with her shoulders back and her head high, she was pleased with the overall effect of what she saw. She had long ago given up the foolishness of slouching and bending her knees in order to appear less tall. What was the point? Short of lopping off her legs at the knees, there was nothing she could do about it, after all. So she had grown to accept her height, even to be proud of it. She found, too, that when she walked tall and proud, others generally treated her with more respect.

With one last adjustment to the chemisette, Meg strode from her room and down the hall to the guest chamber used by Sedge. She knocked softly.

"Come in, Meg."

She opened the door to find Sedge standing at the window, a huge smile splitting his face. He was dressed in a white cambric shirt, a blue pin-striped waistcoat, and doeskin breeches. He wore white stockings and a black kid slipper on his left foot. He wore no jacket or cravat, and his shirt was open at the neck. He looked incredibly handsome, and thoroughly masculine, and Meg found herself staring open-mouthed. She gathered her scattered wits and smiled in return.

"Do you know how I have longed to look out this window?" he said. "Simply to look outside and see the world again. 'Tis a wonderful thing, Meg."

She started to walk toward him, but he held up his hand to stop her.

"Do not move," he said. "Let me come to you."

Meg felt a chill of apprehension as she assessed the distance between them. He would have to take a diagonal path from the window in the far corner to the door where she stood. They were about as far apart as they could be, and this was one of the largest bedchambers in the house, with its spacious sitting area at one end and the bed at the other.

He reached for the wooden crutches propped against the window embrasure, lifted himself onto them, and somewhat shakily positioned himself to face Meg. "You are looking particularly beautiful today, my dear. A special incentive to make it across the room."

Meg felt the heat of a blush color her cheeks, but ignored it as she watched Sedge swing his splinted right leg forward, keeping it bent and not allowing it to touch the ground. Leaning heavily on the crutches, he dragged his left foot forward.

"Well done, my lord!" Meg beamed at him, though her heart constricted at the effort she saw in his furrowed brows and the tight line of his mouth.

"'Tis only one step, my dear," he said in a slightly breathless voice. "At this rate, it may take all day to reach you."

"It is but a beginning," she said. "You can do it, Sedge. Come to me."

He gazed into her eyes for a moment with an expression that caused her breath to catch. But he quickly returned his concentration to the task of walking. He made slow progress, but seemed to gain confidence with each step. He began to maneuver the crutches with more assurance, and appeared to become more comfortable with using his left foot to push off and cover greater distance.

As he neared her, he looked up briefly and Meg reached out her hand toward him. "Come on, Sedge," she said. "You are almost here."

After what seemed an eternity, he finally stood directly in front of her, breathing heavily but flashing a broad, triumphant smile. She still reached out for him, and he allowed his left crutch to clatter noisily to the floor as he grasped her hand.

"Oh, Sedge!" she said. "You did it! You did it. I am so proud of you."

Leaning on one crutch, he held her hand tightly and pierced her with his bright blue eyes. Eyes almost level with her own. How extraordinary. Her heart pounded as his gaze held hers and his smile softened. She believed—she truly believed—that she detected something more than the need for support in the way he held on to her hand. A rush of warmth from his touch tingled all the way up her arm.

Meg dropped her eyes to their joined hands. An image came to mind of Sedge lying feverish and unconscious while she bathed his hands. While she measured her own hand against his larger one. While she allowed their fingers to entwine, just as they did now.

"Ah, Meg," he said finally, breaking the profound silence that had fallen between them. She raised her eyes to meet his. "It is a pleasure to see you at last from this vantage." He lifted her hand slowly toward his lips. "I knew we would see eye to eye," he whispered before placing a warm kiss on her fingertips.

Chapter 10

The stables were teeming with activity. Representatives for the Duke of York were scheduled to arrive later that day to view Thornhill's thoroughbreds. It would be a large feather in Terrence's cap if the duke were to add Thornhill horses to his own stable. Meg's brother had set every groom and stable boy to cleaning stalls and grooming horses. Even the lesser breeds must look in top form to insure the reputation of Thornhill quality.

In the midst of all the excitement, Meg was taking care of her own horse. She did not want to leave Bristol to one of the grooms. She wanted to see to it herself that he looked and behaved perfectly, even though he was not for sale.