An hour or so later, she heard three people talking out in the hallway.Her father was inviting Mr.Masterson to use the same guest bedchamber he had the previous night.Seconds later, a door closed after the younger man went into that room.The voices of the older two men, Julia’s father and uncle, faded away as they continued to their own bedchambers.
Minutes after the three men had gone to their respective rooms, Julia had opened the door to her own bedchamber, just in time to see the footmen removing the bath along with a pile of dirty clothing.No doubt the clothes belonged to Wolfingham.
Julia had waited another twenty long and torturous minutes after her papa and uncle had gone to their bedchambers before she had deemed it safe enough for her to leave her room and go to where she now knew Wolfingham to be resting after his ordeal.
She had softly knocked and then opened the door to that bedchamber, so as not to alarm Wolfingham.But she had quickly discovered she need not have worried herself on that subject, because Wolfingham was asleep.
The small fire burning in the grate, along with a single candle on the dressing table, far enough away that it could not accidentally be knocked over by a restless sleeper, provided the only illumination in the room.
Walking quietly to the bedside on bare feet, Julia could see that Wolfingham was wearing what looked to be one of her father’s white nightshirts.
He remained asleep, his face very pale, his hair tousled as his head lay on the pillows.But the skin on his left temple had a kaleidoscope of bruising, and there also appeared to be a swelling there the size of a small egg.
Julia thought this must be from the blow he had received that Mr.Masterson believed had rendered Wolfingham unconscious and so making it easier for his abductors to lock him in the luggage box.
There was more bruising on Wolfingham’s chin and cheeks.No doubt acquired during the accident when the carriage had rolled down the embankment.
Julia gave a shiver at the knowledge of how much more serious the accident could have been.Yes, the driver and groom were both now dead, but thankfully, the kidnappers’ intended victim was not.
Nicholas’s long and elegant hands lay atop the bedcovers, allowing Julia to see that they too bore bruises.He also had bandages secured about both his wrists.
Perhaps from where his bindings had been too tight?
Why would someone do this to a man as prestigious as Wolfingham, Julia pondered again.None of these events made sense to her.
Because, no matter what she might have said to the contrary, she really did not think this was the work of a betrayed husband.
For one thing, it would appear that the kidnapping of Mr.Masterson’s sister had been carried out for the sole purpose of those same men gaining access to Wolfingham when Mr.Masterson came here to read her grandmother’s will.
That such lengths had been taken to carry out this plan implied malice aforethought.Several days of forethought, if Susan Masterson had been taken three days ago.
Julia shook her head.“Who or what are you?”she now mused as she stared down at the battered and bruised Wolfingham.
“I am Nicholas Harding, twelfth Earl of Wolfingham,” he answered gruffly.“AndIwish to know what you are doing in my bedchamber, dressed only in your thin nightgown and robe and with your hair loose about your shoulders, in what appears to be the middle of the night.”He gave a pointed glance toward where the curtains had not been pulled across the windows to shut out the darkness beyond.
Julia had startled at the first sound of Nicholas’s voice, so low and husky, in the previously eerie silence.
She now saw that his eyes were open and looking at her, but the pupils were so dilated that his eyes appeared black instead of brown.A nerve pulsed in his jaw, his hands now clenched into fists on top of the bedcovers.
Julia eyed him knowingly, aware of exactly what Wolfingham was trying to do by accusingherof wrongdoing.She had heard the saying that attack was always the best form of defense.She also knew that her nightgown and robe covered her from her neck to her ankles.Her hair was indeed loose, but she doubted it was the first time he had seen a lady’s hair in disarray.
Far from it!
Her mouth twisted.“I am in your bedchamber,in the middle of the night, because I am intrigued to know why someone felt the need to attack you so savagely before carrying you away.”
He shrugged before instantly stilling again as the movement obviously caused him pain.
Julia winced in sympathy.“I imagine you are bruised everywhere?”
“Not quite,” he drawled.“I believe my cock to have escaped injury,” he supplied when she raised questioning brows.
Julia instantly felt the heat of color enter her cheeks.Before she just as quickly narrowed her eyes the moment she easily discerned the expression of triumph on the earl’s handsome face.“You said that with the intention of discomposing me.Which I am not,” she scorned.“Your cock aside, how bruised are you?”she persisted haughtily.
He sighed heavily.“Nothing is broken, thank goodness, but yes, I do believe every part of me is bruised or aching.Even my cock, if I am being completely truthful,” he added self-derisively.
Julia ignored what she firmly believed were deliberate attempts on his part to embarrass her.She refused to let him do so.“Why are your wrists bandaged?”
“From where I had to cut away the rope with the small knife I had retrieved from the sheath attached to my ankle.”He grimaced.“My sawing motion occasionally slipped and cut flesh instead of rope.”
