Page 4 of The Thorn and the Rose

“What’s today’s date?” he asked, as she settled herself down to write his letter for him.

She did not look at him, her gaze resting steadily upon the page before her. “The twenty-fourth of May.”

“The… Good heavens! I’ve been here for… for over a week!”

“You’ve slept most of that,” she said, her voice soft, not taking her eyes from the blank page.

“I must get out of here,” he said urgently, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Marie set the writing materials aside and leapt up. “Oh! No, no, you cannot. Not yet, please! You’re not well and…”

Thorn pushed to his feet, fighting past the dizziness as the girl pressed her hands against his chest.

“No! No, you must not,” she insisted, tears glistening in her eyes. “Oh, please. Please, you cannot.”

His head was pounding and the desire to put his family’s minds at rest fought with the very real desire to lie down at once. He swayed as the room spun and he was unwise enough as to grab for the first thing in reach, his hands closing around the slender waist so close to his. Except that was a mistake, as she gave him a little push and dizziness overcame him. He fell back on the bed, failing to release his hold on her in time as he tumbled down.

Thorn sighed as the throbbing in his head dissipated and looked up to discover Marie staring down at him. Her eyes were wide with what might have been alarm, or perhaps merely surprise, and Thorn became viscerally aware of the soft press of her breasts, of the delicious weight of her covering his body. Even the bruises did not seem to care that they were being shoved against, too enthralled by the nearness of the lovely creature in his arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not very sincerely, as she scrambled up, stumbled away from the bed, and smoothed down her skirts.

“That’s… That’s quite all right,” she managed, though she sounded ruffled and out of breath.

Carefully, she settled herself at the foot of the bed, as far from him as she could get, and rearranged the paper, pen, and ink.

“You’re lucky I hadn’t taken the lid off the ink,” she chided, slanting a glance at him and blushing.

Thorn watched her, wondering if she was spoken for. Obviously she was not married, but engaged, perhaps? Was her brother a decent fellow who looked out for her? He also wondered if she liked him at all, despite his bruised and battered appearance. It was damnably difficult to tell in these strange circumstances, and he would never take advantage of her or make advances in such an odd predicament.

“Dear…” she began, giving him an impatient look.

Thorn gave himself a mental shake. The letter. “Dear Mother and Father,” he began, and dictated a brief explanation of what had happened to him.

“Will you put the address here for them, please,” he asked.

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” Thorn stared at her, aware her hand was shaking. Her head was bowed, and she did not look at him, but her reply was implacable.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“But…”

She glanced up at him, pleading in her eyes and something that looked very much like fear. “Please. You cannot give them this address. Just… Just reassure them you are well. As soon as you are strong enough, you can go to them yourself. I have taken a terrible risk in helping you, but if people come here…”

Her breath hitched and he could see from her pallor and the way she trembled, she was terrified.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “No address.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a moment as she composed herself and returned to the letter. “And where shall I send it to?”

Thorn hesitated. For all the girl had rescued him, this was a damned odd predicament, and he was not at all easy about it. Giving her the information that he was the son of the Marquess of Montagu did not seem prudent. “Please send it care of… of Larkin Weston, at the Sons of Hades. It’s a club on Portman Square. He’ll see it gets to them. Sign it from his affectionate friend, Mr Barry, and request he contact them urgently.”

Everyone must realise he was missing now, and it was hardly a difficult leap from Mr Barry to Thomas Barrington. With a bit of luck, Larkin would give his parents word of his wellbeing and in a few days, Thorn would be out of here, without causing a scandal or this beautiful creature any trouble with her brother.

Marie finished the letter and handed it to him to read.