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“I really do,” she replied. Adelaide said, swallowing the knot of emotion that rose at the words, “He never should have thrown his lot in with me.”
And she should have known better than to ask him for more.
Lucia tutted at Adelaide’s words. “I wager that if he were awake, he’d tell me this has been the best week of his life. Let’s make it even better, shall we?”
She leaned in and shouted into Henry’s ear, “Wake up, Duke!”
His brow furrowed.
“Not unconscious!” Lucia announced as Adelaide pushed her irrational relief to the back of her mind. “I suppose that if we’re not going to fleece him, it’s time to wake him up!” She held the bottle high and looked to Adelaide for permission.
Granted.
The bottle tipped, dousing him in the clear liquid.
With a wild curse, he shot up, coming to a seated position on the table, his hand moving instantly to his side, where the sting of the liquor was no doubt excruciating. Adelaide caught his hand before he could touch it. “No. Don’t touch.”
“You don’t touch!” he roared. “What in hell?”
“What did I tell you? Definitely not dead!” Lucia said happily, and he swung around to look at her.
“The highwaywoman. Of course.” He scowled in Lucia’s direction. “You’ve already taken my money; are you here for my blood as well?”
“It’s decided.” Lucia looked to Adelaide. “I like this duke.”
“Henry, please—” Adelaide said. “You need to lie back—”
“You’re still bleeding,” he said, the words like a lash. Back to Lucia. “She’s bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” Adelaide attempted to interject.
“She’s bleeding from theneck,” he clarified.
“Yes, I noticed,” Lucia said. “And you’re bleeding from the side. What a pair.”
“She needs attention. Now. Before whatever the two of you were going to do to me.”
Lucia turned an amused look on Adelaide. “You know this man is half gone for you, right?”
“He’s not—”
“She’sbleeding.” He looked to Lucia. “She needs sewing up.”
“She doesn’t need sewing,” Lucia said, as though she were speaking to a child. “It’s a scratch.”
“It’s aneck wound.”
“Hear me, Duke. If I thought for one moment that Adelaide was in danger, you can wager all the money in that purse you can’t seem to keep in your possession that I would see her healed before anyone touched you. But she is fine, and there’s a better than fair chance that you won’t survive the night, so do shut up and let us get on with it, will you?”
Silence fell in the wake of Lucia’s announcement, and Adelaide would have laughed at the Duke of Clayborn’s shocked face if she weren’t so concerned about the unpleasant chances Lucia had pointed out.
He sniffed the air. “You doused me in rotgut.”
Adelaide tilted her head with a little smile. “Some believe it helps keep a wound clean.”
“Do you?”
“I do. Be glad of it, for there are others who think urine does the trick, too.” Before he could reply, Adelaide pressed him to his back once more. “Don’t worry. I’m a dream with a needle and thread. Before we had Jane, I used to sew our clothes.”
