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“Nor have I, for that matter. Suffice it to say I am not Damien. I would appreciate it if you would cease comparisons. Now, does your ankle still pain you?”
“No,” she said sharply, wishing he would simply drop the subject. “Really, I’m fine now. I want to go to bed.”
That, he thought, careful to keep his features expressionless, was an excellent idea. He was frankly surprised at his reaction to her. He’d certainly met and bedded more beautiful women. Not that she w
asn’t lovely, of course. It was just that . . . Oh, the devil. He didn’t know what it was about her. Lord knew he wasn’t in the market for a damned wife. Wife? He was losing his mind, that was it. He shook his head at himself, saying as he did so, “Shall I order up a bath for you?”
Victoria felt sweaty and dusty. She knew that warm water would soothe the muscles in her leg. She nodded gratefully. “I must look a skelter-patty.”
“No, just something of an urchin.”
She was still sitting in the chair when he returned some five minutes later. “It will be up soon,” he said, sitting across from her. “Did you eat enough?”
“Yes. The lamb was delicious, the carrots not overcooked, the potatoes—”
“All right, I’m not your nanny. Now, tell me about the baron.”
“There’s really not all that much to tell. I simply couldn’t let him come into my room and . . .”
Her voice faded into the wainscoting, and Rafael didn’t push.
“All right, we’ll leave that for the moment. I gather you have no wish to return to Drago Hall?”
“I will never go back there. Never.”
“What about your cousin, Elaine?”
“I don’t know,” Victoria said, lowering her head, her eyes on her clenched hands.
“You didn’t speak to her, then, about her husband’s behavior toward you?”
“No, I did not. You see, Elaine is increasing. The baby is due after Christmas. So I really couldn’t upset her, not in her condition. I really didn’t know what to do. I think, however, that she has guessed something. She became more curt toward me.”
Looking at her, Rafael didn’t doubt it. But still, the thought of a man taking advantage of a young lady under his protection made his stomach turn. Her jaw was stubborn, he saw. She’d refused to stay and become a victim. She’d escaped with but twenty pounds. Yes, very stubborn. He admired that.
“Here’s your bath. We will speak some more when you’re finished. I trust you have a dressing gown in that valise?”
“Why?” she said, looking at him blankly.
“Because,” Rafael said with exaggerated patience, “I wish to speak to you about what we’re going to do. I have no wish to frighten you again.”
“Oh.”
He nodded and walked to the adjoining door. He said over his shoulder, showing his white teeth in a roguish smile, “I too have a dressing gown.”
“I am exquisitely relieved,” she said, showing her own white teeth. He gave her a mock salute and strode into his bedchamber, closing the adjoining door behind him.
Victoria didn’t undress until the maid had left. It was more a habit than anything else. Ever since Elaine had seen her leg with its knotting muscles she didn’t want to feel another’s pity or revulsion. She spent fifteen minutes in the hot water, feeling the muscles loosen and relax. She sighed deeply, and leaned back against the copper tub rim. She started up when she heard a light tap on the adjoining door.
“Victoria? Are you ready for me?” Why the devil had he phrased it like that?
“No,” she called, “not yet.”
“Is your ankle all right?”
“Yes, please, I’ll just be a moment.”
He should have fetched a doctor, Rafael thought, staring at the closed door. But she seemed to have eased during their dinner. He turned back into his room and sat down, waiting. He was tired, weary to his bones. He was a long way from Falmouth and Lindy and a long way to London. A very long way.
