What the Groom Wants (28 page)

The diagnosis was exactly as Caroline had expected. Her throat was bruised, and she’d be eating nothing but thin gruel for a day or so, but beyond that she would be fine. In truth, Sophie had fared worse with bruises all over her body, but at least the old girl would get a bone and some fine meat to eat.

The doctor stepped out of the room as Caroline righted her clothing. There was little she could do to repair the tears at her bodice, but at least there were pins to cover her scars. The doctor, of course, had inquired about them, but she had passed them off with the same lie she told everyone: a childhood accident, nothing more. Everyone knew she was lying. One look showed that the marks had been as deliberate as they were disfiguring. No one accidentally gave themselves scars that spelled DP. But the kind ones let her lies pass without challenge.

So when she stepped out of Lady Anne’s bedroom, she was able to put a serene smile on her face and nod to both lord and lady.

The earl spoke first. “The doctor said you need rest and soft food. So you will stay in your bed and allow the staff to wait on you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand.

“And no speaking either. Not until you’re well.”

Lady Anne stepped forward. “I shall tend to you myself. In fact, I shall get a tea tray immediately. I cannot express how sorry I am for this.”

Her brother released a “harrumph” while Lady Anne disappeared for the tray. Then Caroline was escorted to her own bedchamber as if she were a veritable princess. She kept trying to tell them she would be quite well, but his lordship would not hear of her saying a word. He insisted on seeing that she made it to her bed, and then he shooed everyone out with the order that she needed to rest.

“Really, my lord,” she whispered, but he cut her off.

“Hush, Mrs. Lyncott. No speaking.” Then he fell silent as he simply looked at her. Only now did she see how very pale he was. And when he rubbed his hand over his face, she noticed that his knuckles were bloody.

She gasped, reaching forward to grab his hand. The doctor had already left, she knew, but he could be called back.

Meanwhile, the earl looked down as she captured his fingers. He had a large hand with callouses and scars from his scientific experiments. But he was an earl, a learned man of study. He should not have bloodied knuckles.

“What is it?” he asked. Then when she lifted his hands to the light, he chuckled. “Oh that. It’s nothing, I assure you.” Then he sobered. “I only wish I had done it quicker or arrived sooner. When I think of what might have happened…”

She straightened, pressing her fingers to his lips. She felt the curve of his lips and the moist heat of his breath as it caressed her palm. It had been familiar enough just to touch his hand, but now her heart stuttered, and her belly went liquid.

“I am fine,” she whispered. “You saved me.”

His mouth twisted beneath her fingers, and he drew back. Then he caught her hands in his. “I rather think it was Sophie who saved you. I would not have run upstairs had it not been for her barking.”

She shook her head. “It was you.” And when he raised his brows, she shrugged. “It was both of you.”

“It should never have happened,” he said, his expression suddenly dark and intense. Then abruptly, he squeezed her fingers. “No more speaking, Mrs. Lyncott. There isn’t time.” They could hear the tread of someone coming up the stairs. “After you are better, I should like it if you came to speak with me.”

She looked into his eyes and felt her heart sink to her feet. He was waiting until she was better, of course, but she could read the determination in his dark, angry eyes. He blamed her—in a small part—for the events of this evening. After all, they all knew his lordship’s opinion of the gypsies. Any decent housekeeper would have either found a way to prevent those men from coming here or gotten him word of Lady Anne’s intentions. She had done neither, so she would likely be expelled from the household.

Fighting the lump in her throat, she nodded slowly. “Of course, but if I am to be let go, perhaps you had best tell me now.”

His expression shifted, and she saw raging emotions on his normally impassive face. Anger, frustration, and horror flashed across his face but centered on his mouth. His lips thinned before he gave a heavy sigh.

“Mrs. Lyncott, why would you allow Lady Anne to bring those men here? I believe I made my opinion of the gypsies quite clear some time ago.”

She folded her arms across her chest. Did he not understand anything about his sister? “I did not know about the event before yesterday—”

“Yesterday!”

“And it is because of me that she brought them here. She intended to meet at his vardo or campfire or whatever she called it.”

His brows drew downward in fury. “The devil you say!”

She returned his look measure for measure. He was furious, but now that her terror was fading, she had her own fair share of anger. How dare he take her to task for this evening’s debacle? Did he not see that no woman could preserve order in this house?

He must have seen the determination on her face. Either that, or realized the stupidity of dismissing a woman an hour after she’d been attacked. He rubbed a hand over his face and stifled a curse. “It is not the time to discuss this.”

“If I am to be dismissed—”

He held up his hand, shock in every line of his face. “You are not! I swear that was never in my thoughts.”

She exhaled a sigh of relief. One less worry then, at least for today.

“But we must discuss this, Mrs. Lyncott. Neither of us is having the least success in moderating my sister’s behavior.”

He was having no success. She, on the other hand, had managed to bring the gypsies here. Which—in retrospect—had not been her best idea. The very thought made her knees go weak. Had she truly almost died tonight? The world began to tilt and swirl around her.

“Caroline!”

She blinked, brought back to the present with a gasp. The sound sent fresh fire down her throat, and she clenched her teeth against the pain. He was beside her in an instant, cupping her elbow and guiding her to a seat. She took it gratefully, her heart still beating with too frantic a pulse.

She felt his hand on her face, large and gentle. “Caroline,” he said, his voice growing urgent. “Caroline, look at me.”

She focused on his hazel eyes and the green flecks she saw there. They made her think of meadows and sweet grass, and nothing at all of monkeys. “Do all Scots have such amazingly colored eyes?”

She watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Nay, luv, they’re all mine.” His thick burr sent lovely shivers down her spine, though she could barely understand a word he’d said. Normally, he adopted a proper English accent.

Still, she held his gaze, watching as his pupils dilated, losing the green into darker tones. She raised her hand to touch him in some way. She wanted to know the texture of his skin, the width of his mouth, the feel of a man.

“Here you go,” said Lady Anne as she rounded the corner carrying a tea tray. And suddenly, his lordship was two steps away from her. In the blink of an eye, Caroline’s view went from the man’s eyes to the shiny brass buttons on his coat. She glanced at Lady Anne but saw nothing amiss. If her ladyship had seen anything untoward, she gave no sign of it. Meanwhile, the earl took another step back and executed a handsome bow. “I shall leave you to it then, Anne. Mrs. Lyncott.”

Caroline looked up, unsure what to say. Their gazes caught and held, and in the silence she heard a strange sound—a shush, like the wind through the trees or the touch of a hand through meadow grasses. It was quiet and powerful, and yet she could barely hear it, much less feel its caress. She was so focused on trying to understand the sensations that when he spoke, the words startled her. His tone was too formal, too superficial, and not at all the subtle whisper she’d almost heard. “You will tell us if you need anything,” he said. “If you are distressed in any—”

“I am merely bruised, my lord.” She pushed through her confusion. “I have suffered much worse, I assure you.” She hadn’t meant to say that, though the knowledge was clear upon her scarred chest. But he didn’t know that so she flashed him a smile. “Of course, I will tell the staff if I need something.”

He studied her a little longer, as if trying to judge whether she lied. In the end, he had no choice but to withdraw. Caroline turned her attention to Lady Anne, who was pouring the tea, her hands steady though her expression was deeply troubled.

“Don’t speak anymore,” the lady said. “I am simply horrified by what happened. I cannot express how sorry I am. To think that it happened in our own home. In my bedroom!”

Caroline took the teacup, sipping obediently as Lady Anne settled in a chair across from her. In truth, the hot liquid did feel good on her throat.

“I am going to get you that gypsy tea. I know my brother is furious with me, and rightly so, but I cannot believe that Mr. Pike knowingly brought that horrible thief in here. He expressly told him to stay in the stable. I heard it myself, but…” She swallowed and looked away, but then a moment later, she was looking into Caroline’s eyes, her expression pleading. “I am so very sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to help.”

Caroline set aside her tea with a smile. “I am fine, my lady.” Then she reached forward and squeezed her ladyship’s hand.

That motion was her undoing because it pulled at the pins that held her bodice in place. A single breath later, the tear in the dress fell open to reveal her scars.

Lady Anne’s gasp of surprise echoed in the room. Caroline tried to cover herself quickly, but there was no help for it. The woman had seen.

“Caroline,” she breathed. “What happened?”

Damnation. What was she supposed to do now?

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bestselling author Jade Lee has been scripting love stories since she first picked up a set of paper dolls. Ball gowns and rakish lords caught her attention early (thank you Georgette Heyer), and her fascination with the Regency era began. An author of more than thirty romance novels and winner of dozens of industry awards, she finally gets to play in the best girl heaven: a bridal salon! In her new series, four women find love as they dress the most beautiful brides in England. Lee lives in Champaign, Illinois.