Chapter Fifteen #2
“It’s nothing,” Rhys said. “Zeke, this is Violet, the Marchioness of Sommerset. Zeke is my right-hand man and has a fair amount of skill with a needle and thread.”
“Nice to meet you.” Zeke nodded his head. Then he concentrated on Rhys’s leg. “Don’t think it’s in the right spot to have hit an artery. I’m going to pull it out, and we’ll see how much it bleeds.”
Rhys nodded. His jaw clenched.
Zeke yanked the knife out in one swift move. The blade was at least four inches long. The wound immediately began to bleed.
Violet handed Zeke a folded piece of linen.
He pressed it to the wound, then looked up at her. “Can you press firmly?”
Violet nodded. Rhys still had his eyes closed, his expression tight. “Sorry, this must hurt,” she said.
A grunt was his only response. Violet bit down on her bottom lip and concentrated on keeping steady pressure on the wound. Blood began to soak the cloth.
Next to her, Zeke pulled out a needle and what looked like black embroidery thread. He gently pulled her hand away. “Hold the basin underneath, please.”
When she had the basin positioned right, Zeke took the pitcher and poured water over the wound.
As the blood washed away, she could see the puncture wasn’t as large or as jagged as she’d imagined it would be.
It still bled, but not as much as before.
Violet rose with the basin of dirty water, and Louisa came to take it from her.
The woman crossed to the window, pushed it open, and tossed the water out into the back garden.
Goodness, what a day. A knock echoed up from downstairs. “Oh, that might be my maid. I sent for her.”
Louisa nodded. “Well, let’s go answer it. Zeke, if you need anything else, just holler.”
“Naw, we’ll be fine. Not the first time I’ve had to sew up the boss.”
With a last look at Rhys wincing in pain as Zeke began to stitch him up, Violet followed Louisa downstairs.
It was indeed Ginny, eyes wide as saucers as Louisa ushered her into the house.
Then the housekeeper promptly turned and headed back to the kitchen.
“Never had so many strangers to the house,” she muttered.
“Whose house is this?” Ginny asked.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what’s the news?” Violet replied.
“Your husband was called to his father’s house early this afternoon. Hodgins told me Lord Sommerset said he would be dining out this evening.”
Violet let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank you, Ginny. You would not believe the day I’ve had.” She pushed at a stray curl that stuck to her cheek. “Do I look terribly disheveled?”
Ginny bit her lip and nodded. “You have blood on your sleeve,” she whispered.
Violet looked down at the white lace cuffs of her dress. “Oh dear, do you think it will come out?”
“I’ll do my best. But ma’am, how did the blood get there? Are you harmed?” Ginny glanced around the foyer suspiciously.
“No, I am unharmed. Did you bring the salve?”
Ginny nodded. She pulled the small jar from the pocket of her cloak and handed it to her.
“Thank you, Ginny. I will be ready to leave soon. I just need to deliver this upstairs. Will you wait for me in the kitchen? The housekeeper is Louisa.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Violet headed back upstairs. There was more wrong with Rhys than just the stab wound. She recognized the grimace of pain that he thought he hid so well. He had walked up to the front door like an eighty-year-old man. Fighting off four men surely came with quite a few blows.
As she reached the top of the stairs, Zeke exited Rhys’s room. He headed her way with a smile. “Don’t worry, he’ll live. Seen him much worse after a good fight.”
“Worse?” Violet replied. “Well, I’ve had my maid bring over this salve that has always helped soothe my bruises.”
Zeke tilted his head to one side. His smile faded.
Violet flushed, her cheeks heating. “I mean, the salve is well known for soothing sore muscles. I think it would help him. Ginny’s father is an apothecary, so she knows ever so much about tonics and salves and the like. She is waiting for me downstairs. I hope Louisa won’t mind.”
“Louisa doesn’t mind about much,” Zeke replied. “You’ll never get him to use it. He’s real prickly when he’s hurt. Doesn’t like to be reminded that he’s human like the rest of us. Maybe it’s best if you go home.”
Violet looked over Zeke’s shoulder at the closed bedroom door. Rhys lay in there, hurting, and she knew that the salve would help. “Did he tell you to send me home?”
Zeke rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Maybe.”
“Thank you, Zeke, but I think I will just have a word with him about taking care of himself before I leave. I want to see for myself that he is all right.”
Zeke shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Good evening, Lady Sommerset.” He tipped his cap and headed down the stairs.
Violet strode down the corridor. She knocked on Rhys’s door but didn’t wait for him to tell her to go away.
Instead, she entered to find him still in his leather chair.
His trouser leg had been cut off, and a white linen strip bandaged his thigh.
A very muscular thigh. Violet gulped. Her gaze ran down his bare leg, taking in his knobby knee, his lean, muscled calf covered in light brown hair, and his bare foot with its long toes.
His other boot had been removed—by Zeke, she assumed—and his toes dug into the soft pile of the Oriental rug.
“What are you doing in here?” Rhys growled.
His tone snapped her into action. “I’ve had my maid bring over this salve that I use. I know you must be aching after fighting all four of those awful men.” She came to stand in front of him.
He glared up at her. “I’m fine.”
“Your face is still covered in blood.” She turned and set down the jar, then refilled the basin with a small amount of water. Dipping a cloth into the clean water, she turned back to Rhys. “May I?”
“If I say no, will you go away?”
She shook her head.
He sighed.
Violet took that as an assent. She came closer to him and began to wipe the blood from his face.
Working carefully, she was glad to see that indeed none of it appeared to be from any cuts or lacerations.
Rhys kept his gaze on her face the whole time.
His clear blue eyes were stormy as he stared up at her.
She turned to rinse the cloth in the basin and to catch her breath.
This man stirred in her something that she had never felt for anyone before.
She didn’t understand it at all. Violet wrung out the cloth. “Lean your head back.”
He complied, and she wiped long strokes down his neck, then over his ear. She ran her thumb over his jaw. “I think there is a bruise forming here already.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “Yes, Calvin got a few good hits in. He used to be a boxer.”
“Where else? I’ll put some salve on.”
He looked at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched. Then he wrapped a hand to his side.
Violet nodded. “Right. I’ll help you take your shirt off.”
A small half smile appeared on Rhys’s face. “Isn’t that inappropriate, sugar?”
She gritted her teeth. “Yes, yes, it is. But you saved my life today, and I’m not leaving until you are properly cared for and comfortably tucked into bed.”
His smile turned into more of a smirk. But he pushed himself to sit up straight and shrugged out of his jacket. His wince of pain proved to Violet that she was doing the right thing by helping him. Next, he pushed his braces off his shoulders.
“Now raise your arms, and I will pull the shirt off over your head.”
As he lifted his arms, he froze halfway up, blowing out a whoosh of air. His face contorted with pain.
“Stop. Can you lean forward?”
He did. Violet reached over his back, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled it off over his head.
Then he straightened as she slid it off his arms. Good Lord.
The man was made entirely of lean, sinewy muscle.
He only had a light dusting of hair across his chest, and his nipples were a dusty pink.
He scratched at his chest and smirked up at her. “Are you sure you want to be my nursemaid?”
Violet took a deep breath. She was a married woman, for goodness’ sake. This wasn’t the first male chest she had seen. She was simply helping him when he was in need. She snatched up the jar of salve. “Now show me where else you are hurt.”
Rhys turned in his chair and waved a hand to indicate his right side below his ribs. “Calvin got a good kick in here and a solid punch to my back, right to the kidneys.”
She dipped her fingers into the jar and scooped out a generous portion of salve. Then, crouching down, she tentatively smeared it across his smooth skin.
Rhys sucked in a sharp breath.
“Does it hurt? I will be gentle, I promise.” She spread it carefully across the red affected area.
“It doesn’t hurt, sugar.”
She glanced up at him and found those intense blue eyes back on her.
Startled by the heat in them, she bit her bottom lip.
Danger. Not the kind she was used to, though.
No, this was entirely different. This look wasn’t a danger to her person; this look made her heart race and her breath hitch.
It made her want to take chances that she was not allowed.
She tore her gaze away and continued to spread salve over his side.
Then she stood and moved around the chair.
Scooping more salve, she applied it across his back. “Here?” she asked.
Another grunt of assent made her smile. Rhys was certainly not a man of many words.
Coming back in front of him, she looked down and spotted an abrasion on the top of his left shoulder.
She smoothed what was left on her fingers over the spot.
“There, hopefully, it will help the bruises heal quickly. Apply it anytime they start to ache.” Her fingers lingered on his warm skin. Danger.
Rhys reached up and grasped her hand. “Thank you.”
“What? Thank you! You were hurt protecting me.”
His thumb brushed over the top of her hand. Then he froze as he stared down at it. He smoothed over the thin gold band encircling her thumb. “Is this the ring…from last year?”
Embarrassed at being caught wearing his ring, she tried to tug her hand away, but he held fast. Very few people saw her bare hands, so the presence of the little ring was normally not noticed.
His gaze rose to her face.
She sighed. “I fiddle with it. It’s soothing to spin it around and around. It gives me a sense of peace when…when things are bad.”
He looked back down at it and used his thumb to brush over the gold. “I’m glad.”
“I always wondered how you had it handy like that. For the trick, I mean.”
To her surprise, Rhys’s cheeks colored. “I collect things, objects, as I travel through the neighborhoods.” He shrugged. “Always have things in my pockets. An old habit from when I was a kid.”
She smiled. “I bet you were a beautiful child. Angelic with all this blond hair.”
He snorted. “More of a hellion.”
“Yes, I suppose I could see that.” She brushed hair off his brow, needing to touch him one more time before she must go. “Dangerous is what you are,” she murmured.
He let her hand slip from his. “I think you should go home, Lady Sommerset.”
“Yes. I think you’re right.” For some reason, tears pricked the back of her eyes.
Violet turned and walked to the door. With her hand on the door handle, she glanced back over her shoulder.
Rhys lounged back in the chair, his eyes hooded as he watched her.
Violet shot him a small smile. “Take care of yourself.” Then she forced herself to open the door and leave.