Page 84 of Maid for the Marquess

“Please don’t speak of that.”

A low knock on the door interrupted us, and Edward came in.

“Ah, the victor is awake.”

I smiled at his attempt at levity. I met Maddie’s eyes. “My love, might I ask for some sustenance? Something to rid my stomach of the empty ache?”

She slid from the bed. “Of course. I should have thought of that.”

“No. I was enjoying gazing on you and hearing your lovely voice. A whiskey would be a welcome addition. To drink this time and not poured on my arm as a sacrifice.”

She pursed her lips, prepared to say no.

“A small one. It has been a trying day,” I coaxed.

“A small one,” she conceded.

“If you would fetch my valet as well. I require some assistance.”

Edward stepped forward. “Allow me to help, Alexander.”

I was too tired to argue. Maddie leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I shall return with your tray.”

“Let a footman carry it.”

She glided away, her silk skirt drifting along the floor. I admired her carriage and the way her hips moved. The curls framing her face. My cock twitched in my pants, and I was grateful to know all was working. I would show her I was indeed well when we were once again alone.

Edward approached the bed.

“I need the water closet and to get out of these clothes,” I told him. “Give me your flask.”

He pulled one from his jacket and offered it to me. The bite of the liquor was what I needed to face moving. I handed it back to him and, with his aid, stood from the bed. The burn in my arm increased, and I groaned in frustration.

“Remind me not to get shot again.”

“Good plan. Now, let us get this over with, shall we?”

Maddie reappeared a short time later. “Your tray will be here soon.” She looked at my bare chest and arm, frowning. “I want to check the wound.”

I was growing weary, the simple act of undressing and relieving myself almost too much. I nodded, and she efficiently undid the bandage and hummed, sounding pleased.

“It is clean and cool,” she informed me. “I will rewrap it, and Dr. Atwood can check in the morning.” She went to the washstand and wrung out some cloths, returning to the bed and wiping down my face, chest, and arms. She was proficient and quick, and I enjoyed her tender ministrations.

She allowed me to sit in my favorite chair, and I sipped the whiskey and ate the food offered. Edward spoke, filling me in on the day I had slept through. The farmers were doing well, the crops planted. Missives had arrived for me to look over but nothing urgent.

“Tomorrow or the day following will be fine, my lord,” he assured me.

“I will go to the village tomorrow,” I informed him. “If Barnett is well enough, I will dispatch him back to his own estate. I don’t want him even remotely close to my wife,” I said quietly, watching as Maddie bustled around with Mrs. Dougall. The bed was changed, fresh water brought in, and a banyan laid out for me. They conferred in quiet voices, and I stared in wonder at my wife.

“She knows the truth of the baron,” I told Edward, my eyes never leaving her.

“It would appear she has taken the news in stride. She is a strong woman.”

“She has had to be with all she endured.” I paused. “She humbles me.”

“Love can do that,” he mused, causing me to eye him closely.

“Oh? You know this from experience?” I asked.