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Patricia Wynn (10 page)

BOOK: Patricia Wynn
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Susan thanked her and did her best to leave the room without showing her extreme anxiety. Lord Harleston sick! And because of her. What if he should die?

But the sight which met her eyes as she strode into the stable was enough to banish that worry from her mind. Peg, that incorrigible flirt, was hovering over a prostrate Tom, bathing his chest with water from a bucket and giggling in his ears. He was stripped to the waist, at least, for not a speck of clothing covered him above the blanket, and Susan was not surprised to learn later just how thorough Peg had been.

“Peg!” she cried out, doing her best to control her anger. “What is ze meaning of zis? Why did you not tell me Tom was sick?”

The stupid girl turned and, seeing Susan, pouted before answering sulkily. “I didn’t think you would want ter be bothered, miss,” she said mendaciously. “I found ’im like this this mornin’, all ’ot and feverish like. Poor cove!” she added with a smile for Tom’s benefit.

“Peg has been taking good care of me, madam,” Tom said hoarsely. He was glistening with sweat and Susan’s anger left her as she saw the haze in his eyes. She had noticed it the night before and mistaken it for weariness. Now as she put her hand to his forehead, she was shocked to discover how hot he was.

But Lord Harleston had not entirely lost his sense of humour. “She has really been
most attentive,
madam,” he added, a glint in his eye.

“I do not doubt it,” said Susan dryly. “Zat was very good of you, Peg. Now, please take Tom’s clothes into ze house and wash zem yourself. I do not want to inconvenience Lady Mewhinny’s ’ousehold any more zan we ’ave to. It appears we shall be staying on anoz’er few days until Tom is well.”

“I’ll ’ave Mm up in no time,” said Peg with a sly wink for Tom.

Susan swallowed a retort and said through tightened lips, “Please do as I said, Peg. And do ’ave someone tell Lady Mewhinny I shall not be up to dinner. I can ’ave a tray later in my room.”

“Oll right, miss,” Peg said reluctantly. Then she took herself off with a toss of the head.

As soon as she was gone, Lord Harleston closed his eyes with relief, and a shudder went through him. Susan’s heart was wrenched with pity and her inhibitions melted away. “Oh, Tom!” she said remorsefully, forgetting for once to address him properly. “This is so horrible, and it is all my fault.”

“Nonsense!” he said between chattering teeth. She drew the blanket up more closely around him and was glad to see Peg had found something more suitable than the horse blankets she had covered him with the night before. “It’s just a chill,” he said. “Had much worse in the Peninsula.”

“But you poor, poor dear!”

Tom smiled and managed to cock an eye towards her. “I’m just grateful you saved me from Peg,” he muttered. Susan looked at him suspiciously as his eyelids drooped again. He seemed to enjoy reminding her of Peg. She wondered if her annoyance was so obvious.

“I will see to it that you are well cared for, Lord Harleston,” she said, affecting to ignore his last remark. “Lady Mewhinny will be happy to tell one of her servants to nurse you and I shall look in on you every day.” Then she added under her breath, “And I shall make sure Peg does not disturb you.” She sat silently awhile, allowing him to rest.

Peg was certainly a problem. She must somehow keep her busy in the house. The girl had not come to offer her services in the past two days, and Susan had not bothered to call her. She had been much happier forgetting about Peg entirely, but that must change. The girl wanted watching.

“Captain,” his lordship mumbled, rousing her suddenly from her thoughts. Surprised, Susan looked down and saw a frown on his face. “Captain!” he shouted clearly.

“Lord Harleston,” she whispered emphatically. “You must keep your voice down. What is it you wish to say about my father?”

“Save me from Peg, Captain!” For a moment, Susan thought he was just teasing her, but gradually she realized that he had become delirious. The knowledge frightened her. She quickly put her hand to his head again and felt how much hotter he had become in just the past few minutes. The fever was raging. She must do something about it.

Picking up the rag Peg had used, she began to bathe his arms and face, hardly thinking of what she was doing. Harleston continued to mumble, and she caught her father’s name several times. The captain was clearly on his mind. He was worried about something. She tried to reassure him that all was well as she prayed the tepid water would cool his fever.

After a while, her efforts seemed to calm him and he stopped his raving. With relief she put down her bathing cloth and regarded him for a moment. Only then did she become aware of the beauty of his figure as he lay there in the straw. Peg had given him a thorough washing. It was plain to see, for he had none of the layer of dirt Susan had noted on him the night before. But it would not have mattered anyway, she admitted, as her eyes looked him over tenderly, for he was magnificent either way. She reached a gentle hand up to his hair and removed a lock from his dampened forehead.

“Oh, Tom,” she whispered hopelessly.

“I done the washin’, miss, like you arst me,” Peg said at her elbow.

Susan jumped and retracted her hand. “Zat is excellent, Peg,” she said hastily. “I was just feeling Tom’s fore’ead to see if ’is fever was down, but it is much worse. I am afraid I shall ’ave to nurse ’im myself.”

“But, miss!” Peg protested, clearly disappointed. “You can’t do that! I’ll make sure ’e gets wot’s needed,” she added innocently.

“Zat is very selfless of you, Peg,” Susan said wryly, “but I shall need you to carry water for me, and to wash ze clothes and linen. And besides, Lady Me-whinny will be grateful for your ’elp in ze ’ouse. We ’ave been a dreadful charge upon ’er staff.”

“But that’s not fair,” Peg whined, now mindless of her noble pose.

“That will be all, Peg!” Susan said in a voice of dread. “Now, run back into ze ’ouse and fetch me more linen.” Then as Peg seemed about to refuse, Susan marshaled every ounce of strength within her to say firmly, “Go!”

The girl flounced out of the stable without so much as an “Oll right, miss.” Susan watched her go with a sigh of despair.
Wretched creature,
she thought. Peg had a sensuality so extreme that it amounted to a sixth sense. She seemed to know intuitively that Susan was still a maiden, for no amount of prompting or correction could make her address her mistress as madam.

Banishing Peg from her mind with a will, Susan turned back to attend to his lordship.

“I shall have to nurse you,” she explained to him quietly, “or you shall give us all away.” His mutterings centred so frequently on Captain Johnstone that it worried her. She wondered what could be troubling him about her father, never realizing that it was
she
who was on his mind, that during his ordeal of the past two days, he had greatly feared leaving her to carry on alone.

Peg brought the linens and departed again in silent sulks. Susan did not allow Peg’s behaviour to disturb her, but she was less composed when she picked up one of the pieces of cloth to bathe Tom down. This time, she could not avoid the feeling that she was taking great liberties with his person. It was impossible to keep separate in her mind the act of nursing him and the notion of a caress. In fact, she was so overcome with sudden shyness that she had to talk to herself firmly before she could carry on.

“You did the same thing for your father, didn’t you?” she said, dipping the linen in the water and wringing it out mercilessly. Still, she found herself staring at him wonderingly from time to time, appreciating the firmness of his muscles and the grace in his neck and hands. It was not until he started tossing again, that she managed to forget her feelings for a moment and apply herself to soothing him. In the end, though, things got worse, for her ministrations were so effective that Tom began to smile and mutter softly in his sleep.

An overwhelming curiosity to know what he was dreaming about got the better of her, and as Susan bent her ear down closer to his lips, Lord Harleston groaned and flung his arm across her, turning her over and pinning her against the stable floor. She shrieked, shocked into emitting a louder noise than she should have. Then, after struggling futilely for a moment against the burden of his bare chest, she stopped momentarily to catch her breath and took time to think.

Perhaps I should not disturb him,
she thought tenderly, rather enjoying the feel of his arm across her. She stole a hand up and stroked the back of his head, taking pleasure in the feel of his smooth, fine locks. But no sooner had she given herself up to the quite tolerable prospect of staying there until he rolled himself over again, than Lord Harleston ruined it with a clearly uttered word.

“Maria,” he groaned on a lingering note.

Susan’s hand froze in mid-stroke. Her chest rose mightily in spite of the dead weight upon it. “Maria!” she declared with no little indignation. Lord Harleston did not respond. He was obviously in the grip of a pleasant dream.

A surge of unexpected strength filled Susan and with both arms she heaved his body clear of her own, mumbling angrily, “Move over, you great hulking oaf.”

His lordship rolled onto his back with another groan of “Captain.” Susan sat up and started brushing the hay from her dress and hair, but the sound of a familiar voice raised in shock brought her to her feet instantly.

“Susan! My dear!” cried Lady Mewhinny. “Whatever are you doing?”

Susan turned to find her hostess standing at the entrance to the stall. Her mouth flew open wordlessly. Then she swallowed as the heat crept into her cheeks.

“Lady Mewhinny!” she cried faintly. “I was just... zat is, I was... I was trying to turn ’im,” she finished. “’E ’as a considerable fever and I was trying to cool ’im down.”

Lady Mewhinny approached poor Tom with a lantern held high above her head. “But you weren’t going to care for him yourself, my dear?” she asked in a tone of mild reproach.

“Yes, I must,” Susan said, deeply embarrassed nonetheless. “You see, in France, we always nurse our own servants. I would not feel right allowing anyone else to do it. It is my charitable duty.”

“Oh, dear,” said Lady Mewhinny, distressed, but accepting. “You do have some rather uncomfortable national customs, do you not? I suppose I should feel a similar responsibility should Vigor ever fall ill. But he never does, of course. But, my dear, you cannot do everything for Tom. He is much too heavy for you to lift.”

“Zat he is,” agreed Susan with feeling. Then, she blushed at the memory of his weight upon her. “But I can call someone for assistance when I need it. Peg removed ’is clothing,” she added, in case there were any doubt.

“Yes, you must,” agreed her ladyship, apparently ignoring the last remark. “You must call Vigor. But I would not use your maidservant; she can help my staff with the monkeys while Vigor is assisting you.” Lady Mewhinny’s eyes held an enigmatic look.

“Vigor will be much better,” Susan agreed. “And per’aps ’e could sleep ’ere beside Tom in case ’e needs anys’ing during ze night.”

“I shall see to it immediately,” Lady Mewhinny said briskly. She had an air about her which said that everything was now arranged. “I shall have your supper sent to your room, dear. Shall we say in half an hour?”

Susan thanked her and said she would be along directly.

As soon as Lady Mewhinny’s tiny form had passed through the stable doors, Susan returned her attention to Tom. He had flung both arms outside the covers and she could see that he was shivering.

“Oh, dear!” Susan cried, immediately forgetting her anger of moments before. She knelt and covered him up again, tucking the blankets tightly around him and hoping he would not kick them off in the night. It was true she would not be able to watch him round the clock. Even could she have done it, it would have appeared much too strange for her to devote herself so entirely to a groom. Lady Mewhinny’s suggestion of Vigor had come at just the right time, for Susan, thinking quickly, had remembered how hard of hearing he was. If Tom—Lord Harleston—should utter any words to give them away, she thought, Vigor would likely not hear them.

Lord Harleston muttered something and tried to roll again in his sleep. Her heart pounding within her, Susan knelt closer to hear. This time, she placed both hands upon his chest to make certain there would be no repetition of the previous incident.

“Yes, Tom, what is it?” she whispered gently, straining to hear. He mumbled again faintly and she sighed with disappointment. It was all so indistinct.

Then he spoke again quite clearly. “Susan,” he said, a little smile playing about his lips. And then, “So beautiful.”

Susan’s heart melted within her and tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Tom,” she whispered again, moving her hand gently over his feverish lips. She let it linger there for a moment before pulling it back into her lap. It was such a temptation to kiss him as he lay there helpless in the straw.

You must get a grip on yourself,
Susan told herself, sighing. She must not let Lord Harleston’s helpless state trick her into fancying herself in love with him. She was not completely unaware of her own weaknesses. But as she gazed down at him and watched the play of lantern light across his strongly cut features, a wealth of tenderness rose up inside her. It was somehow different, and more than all the passions that had been aroused in her over the years; more than her concern for Lady Mewhinny; more, even, than her love for her father those last few weeks.

Suddenly, the strength of her feelings frightened her. She had allowed herself to develop an attachment that must not be. Had she not known from the beginning that Lord Harleston must not be involved in her escapade? Was she falling in love? Susan steeled herself against such a notion. As soon as Tom was well, she would insist upon his leaving her to her own devices. With what was left of her father’s fifty pounds she could easily make the rest of the journey by post. No one would be likely to discover her, and his lordship could have no qualms.

She sighed again and rose to her feet as Vigor entered the stables. A glance at his bent and feeble frame sent feelings of remorse through her as she considered the chore to which she had set him.

BOOK: Patricia Wynn
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