“Yes, it’s me.Go on back to bed, dear.”
“What are you doing at this hour?Is that Tom with you?What on earth has he got?”Groaning, Kate looked up to see Lucy descending the stairs with a candle while Tom started up, the marquess at his side.
“Go back to bed, Lucy,” Kate said.But she knew she was wasting her breath.Lucy had as strong a will as the rest of the Courtlands when she chose to exercise it.
“What have you got there, Tom?Heavens, is that a man?What happened?Who is he?”
Tom faltered under the strain of the marquess’ weight and heaved himself up the last few steps before answering.“It’s your fellow, Miss Lucy.”
“My—?Katie, what have you done?”Lucy rounded upon her sister just as Kate reached the top of the stairs.
“There was an accident.I didn’t shoot him on purpose, I can tell you that much,” Kate said, brushing past her outraged sister to open the bedroom door for Tom.She followed the grunting coachman into the room and watched him dump the marquess upon the bed with a groan, just as a bloodcurdling shriek erupted behind them.
Lucy stood in the doorway, clutching the frame as if to hold herself upright.“You shot him!Katie, how could you?”
“Never mind that.Tom, help me get this coat off of him,” Kate instructed, bending over to remove the blood-soaked material.
“Don’t you dare touch him!”Lucy wailed.Before Kate could respond, Lucy rushed to the side of the bed and pushed her away.“Wroth!What have they done to you?”she cried dramatically as she threw herself at the prone body of the marquess.
Kate watched dispassionately as Lucy, ever mindful of her limited wardrobe, stopped short of the wet coat.Her lashes fluttered as if she might swoon for a moment, but then they flew open and she stared at the marquess with a horrified expression on her lovely face.Jerking back from the bed, Lucy settled her hands on her hips, arms akimbo.
“That is not Wroth,” she announced, lifting a finger to point it accusingly at the man in the bed.
“It most certainly is,” Kate said.
“I ought to know better than you, and that is not him.Wroth is young and handsome, not old and cruel-looking.”
The strain of the evening’s events made Kate raise her voice in exasperation.“This man certainly is not old!Nor is he cruel-looking.”She paused to eye the marquess.He definitely was not soft, but it was power and determination that hardened his features—not a mean streak, she would swear upon it.And handsome?Kate had never seen a more beautiful man in her life.
“It doesn’t matter what you say.He is not Wroth!”
“Who is he, then?”Kate asked.
“I don’t know, nor do I care!”
“Girls!Girls!”Tom’s admonitions rose above the squabbling and drew Kate’s attention.She swiveled toward him, just as Lucy did, with the same question on her lips.
“What?”Lucy fairly shrieked.
The coachman heaved a great sigh.“You had better quit arguing and do something before the fellow bleeds to death all over the best bed linens.”
Chapter Two
Grayson drifted in and out of the nightmare.Just when his head began to clear, he would feel a jolt, followed by a sharp rush of pain that sent him back into oblivion.He wasn’t willing to surrender, but each time he thought to struggle, he heard a deep, soothing woman’s voice lulling him into the darkness once more.
She stroked his forehead.It was not a sexual touch, but a gentle, maternal motion.His mother?No, she had been dead for years.And this woman was whispering something about temptation.Had he fallen asleep in a brothel?That was not his style.He either had been drugged or attacked by some ruffians, who had left him the worse for the encounter.And the woman?
With great effort, Grayson managed to lift his lashes.At first, he couldn’t focus, but then he saw a shadowy face take shape, and in it, eyes the color of amethyst.Her eyes.Who was she?He opened his mouth to speak, but then his whole body lurched and rough hands grabbed at him, lifting him and… nothing.
She was touching him again.Grayson felt the intriguing brush of fingertips across his shoulder, gentle, but capable.She was wrapping something around him.Had he been injured?He could not remember.
“I refuse to stand here while you… handle a strange man’s chest!”A different woman’s voice sounded, high and grating, followed by footsteps.
A snort, but a female one.Hisfemale.“Seems to me that’s what got us into this mess, Lucy,” she muttered.“You and some stranger’s chest.”
“Cor, Katie, it weren’t the chest what caused the problem.”A man.A rough baritone.Chuckling coarsely.How many people were here?Grayson tried to clear his mind, but the woman rested a hand on his forehead, distracting him with her smooth palm.He remembered it.Soft and soothing.
“Better dose him up with laudanum,” the man said, and Grayson fought to rouse himself.
