Page 36 of The Viscount of Shadows

The needle stilled, but she kept her head down. “I had a momentary lapse of judgment with your alter ego in that alley.” Claudia continued with her stitching.

“With both of us in disguise, we felt safe enough to act on a mutual attraction. You never felt anything toward Tensbridge, then? I am not a vain man, but there was something—there. There still is.”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”

“Yes, I suppose that happens when one has an alter ego. Allow me to correct that. You never felt anything toward me, then?”

“How long do we have to stay here?” Claudia asked as she continued to concentrate on sewing up his wound.

Changing the subject once again.

He would let it go for now, but they would soon address this. “We stay until tomorrow night. I would collapse if we tried to leave before sunrise.”

The needle halted once again. “Tomorrow night? What about food? What about—normal bodily functions?”

“There is some food in the trunk, not much mind, so we must be prudent. Same with the water. And in the corner, there is a bucket we can use.”

“God, how mortifying,” Claudia mumbled as she quickened the pace of her sewing.

“Speaking of the bucket, you had best bring it here and hurry.” Oliver retched, holding his hand over his mouth.

Claudia scrambled to her feet, located the container, and held it under his chin. He vomited, his insides roiled like mad. Oliver heaved until there was nothing else to bring up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Talk about mortifying,” he croaked, his throat raw.

“You were in a vicious fight and seriously injured, Tensbridge. I feel like vomiting myself. Here, take another mouthful of water to clear the taste out of your mouth.” She held the jar to his lips, and he took a sip. Rinsing his mouth, he spit into the bucket.

“Alone like this, call me Oliver—Claudia.”

Placing the pail aside, she continued with her task. “Almost done, Oliver.”

It took all his inner fortitude not to moan aloud at the sound of his name on her lovely lips. “I never asked how you are. That was quite the punch from Danaher.”

“I will recover. There will be bruising, I’ve no doubt. It will match the ones on my arm.”

“Show me.”

Claudia pulled her sleeve up to her shoulder. The middle part of her arm was covered in brown and yellow bruises. Oliver could swear he saw a handprint where that monster had grabbed her.

“Is that from the other night? Danaher?” She nodded in response. The fury growing inside of him was disturbing. “I should have let you kill him,” Oliver snarled.

“You have no say in whether I do or not. But you spoke sense. However, I have a distinct feeling there will be other opportunities.”

Several minutes passed, and even though he had brought up the contents of his stomach, he still felt nauseous. Claudia was right. Though not a deep cut, it was still a severe wound. Oliver could only hope the blade did not nick his colon or kidney. Danaher’s knife was no doubt filthy.

Claudia leaned in, took the thread between her teeth, and bit it. “There. Done. I hope the stitching holds. I am not a trained nurse. No blood is leaking through. For now.” She laid a gauze over the wound, then wrapped a long strip around his middle to hold it in place and tied the ends. Claudia stood, taking the bucket to the far corner, and, finding a flat piece of wood, placed it over the top to cover it.

Then she returned to the trunk. “I thought I saw a blanket in here—ah. Found it.” Taking his leather coat, waistcoat, and shirt, she folded them, making a pillow, and placed them behind his head. “You should stay lying on your side and try to relax. Obviously, on the side not injured.” Claudia covered him with the blanket.

“Not a nurse? You are certainly acting as one,” he replied, pulling the trousers over his hips. “And I genuinely appreciate the care. Best we put out the lamp. We may need the oil.” Oliver lifted part of the blanket. “Come here, in next to me. It will become colder tonight, and we must stay warm.”

Claudia pursed her lips. “I am not sure that is wise.”

“Because there is a mutual attraction?”

“Yes. We cannot act on it,” Claudia whispered. Did Oliver hear regret in her voice?

“The condition I am in, I could not act on it even if I wanted to.”