Thirty-six
Pain dragged him up from oblivion. When Nathaniel opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself lying in a bed beneath cool, clean sheets. He had no recollection of how he’d come to be there.
He tried to sit up, but the throbbing at his temple arched into a wicked spike of agony. He lifted a hand to his head and found a thick bandage wrapped around it. Nate eased back onto the down pillow and let his gaze wander the room.
A woman dozed in a chair beside his bed. Her soft brown hair was tumbled around her shoulders and faint gray smudges beneath her eyes told of a sleepless night. Nate had the niggling feeling he ought to know her, but no name sprang to his lips.
A cheerful maid entered the room with an armful of fresh linens. To his very great relief, Nate recognized her.
“Mercy,” he said.
“Well, look who’s come back to us.” She dropped her load on the foot of the bed and hurried to the sleeping woman’s side. “Milady, Lord Nathaniel’s awake.”
The woman roused and came to stand over him, placing a cool palm on his cheek. “How are you feeling?”
Her voice was all wrong, damaged somehow. It crackled like an autumn leaf under foot.
“Like I’ve been trampled by a coach-and-six.” He knew exactly what this woman looked like naked. Why couldn’t he remember her name?
“Not quite a coach-and-six, milord,” said a boy who brought in a breakfast tray and set it down on the commode next to the porcelain pitcher and ewer. “But I expect that ride here in Lord Fishwick’s gig din’t do ye no favors.”
“Fishwick lent us his conveyance?” Nate asked. A kaleidoscope of images flashed in his brain, none of them suggesting that Lord Fishwick shared anything with others but misery.
The boy slanted his gaze to the woman. When she nodded, he answered. “Well, Lord Fishwick weren’t like to use it again, were he? Ye kilt him dead, and no one to grieve overmuch for him, neither.”
“Father convinced the magistrate that the death was an accident,” the woman said softly. “And in many ways, it was.”
Mercy and the woman plumped pillows behind Nathaniel’s back and helped him sit up whether he wanted to or not. In the face of such feminine insistence, it was easier not to protest.
“I remember you, boy.”
“I should hope you would,” the woman rasped softly. “Young Caleb helped me get you out of Whitechapel and back to Yorkingham House last night. He even went back for my father’s horse.” She leaned down and whispered, “I promised him a position for his assistance.”
Nate nodded. Yorkingham. She was a Yorkingham. The name Anne bubbled to his consciousness, but somehow it didn’t seem right. He couldn’t associate Anne with the straining ache he felt for this woman.
“What’s wrong with your voice?” he asked.
She put a hand to her throat and he noticed purple mottling on her tender skin. “You don’t remember? The doctor said you might not. What do you recall?”
“Lord Nathaniel don’t want to hash over all that,” Mercy said. “Better he should learn something new. Whilst ye and milady were gallivanting hither and yon, Mr. Darling and me went and got ourselves betrothed at the Ladies’ Maids’ Ball!”
Nate smiled weakly. “Good for you.”
“Good for him, ye mean.” She gave Nate a saucy wink. “And good for you too, milord. Milady didn’t get herself engaged to marry the royal duke last night.”
“No?” He looked askance at the woman he could only call “milady,” even though his chest tightened in a hard lump each time her delicate violet fragrance reached his nostrils.
“No,” she said. “I won’t be a duchess in this lifetime. Apparently, being abducted by a murderer and bringing home the unconscious man who saved me is not at all the done thing. His Highness deems me too flighty to become a member of the royal family.”
He caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “Are you sad about it?”
She shook her head. “How can you ask that?”
“Come, Caleb,” Mercy said suddenly. “Ye aren’t being paid to stand around all day gawkin’ at the quality folk. Don’t ye be fretting about Lord Nathaniel. He only took a bad fall. Say, have I told you how a good clout to the head was the making of Mr. Darling?”
The little maid shepherded the boy out of the room and down the hallway, spouting copious advice about his new duties as she went.
“I see a question in your eyes.” The woman settled a hip on the side of his bed. “You don’t know me, do you, Nate?”
“I do. I know you. Your heart is so big there’s room for everyone in it, even those who don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do for them.
” He squeezed her hand and closed his eyes, willing himself to remember her name.
“I know you’re afraid to dance in public and you can’t play the piano worth shooting.
I know you want to please everyone around you so badly, you forget to please yourself. ”
“That last part is not true. I’m entirely too willful. Everyone says so and—”
He silenced her by reaching up to cup the back of her head and pull her down for a kiss. Memories of a vigorous tussle with this luscious woman careened through his mind, sending his blood singing. A name echoed through his brain, all right and true.
“Georgette,” he whispered. “You’re my Georgette. The bane of my existence and the love of my life. I don’t deserve it, but if you could love me a little in return—”
“Oh, Nate, do shut up. I wouldn’t know how to love you a little. I can only love you with all I am.”
The world went all wet and warm and smelled deliciously of violets as they kissed each other to a new sort of oblivion. When he started to reach under her hem, she pushed away from him.
“No, Nathaniel, we can’t. The doctor says you’re to keep quiet and not overexert yourself.”
“Bollocks! Can’t a man shag his future wife without some doctor nattering about it?” he demanded.
“Your future wife?”
“Yes.” He palmed her cheeks and felt himself tumble into her wide hazel eyes. “I don’t deserve you, but you’ll make me the happiest man alive if you say you’ll marry me.”
She threw her arms around him and peppered his face with kisses.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said when she finally let him come up for air. “Now, why don’t you practice a little wifely obedience and bolt the door so I can love you to exhaustion in peace?”
She tilted her head at him. “What if the doctor is right?”
“He’s not,” Nate said as she went to throw the bolt. “But if he is, I’ll die a happy man.”