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Chapter Ten
Prior to his injuries, Ace had been young and physically fit. As a result, under the surgeon’s good care, he was able to make rapid progress back to health.
He would always have scars on his handsome face, but they were healing nicely. His ribs were mending, and the broken bones in his left leg were knitting together.
Lady Josephine heard from Mr. McTavish that for brief periods each day, Ace could sit up and take nourishment. The surgeon had cut the laudanum dose significantly. Only at night did he continue to be heavily sedated, to enable him to sleep comfortably.
Lady Josephine knew of the heavy nighttime dosage. She counted on it. On any night that did not require her attendance till the wee hours at some ball or event, she slipped up to Ace’s room.Maybe, in the depths of his sleep, he senses I am there. Maybe, on some level, he feels my kisses...he hears me say I love him.
She got so bold in her longing for him that some nights, she actually lay down on the bed with him, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his back and shoulders.Does he know? Does he dream of me when I hold him?She had to be very careful on those occasions not to fall into too deep a sleep herself—what if she was still there like that when a servant came into the room in the morning?
But now that he was conscious during the daylight hours, she would have to stop in to his room and pay him the courtesy of asking how he was recovering. She both longed for this meeting and dreaded it. How would he react, after all those nights of unconscious intimacy between them?
* * *
Ace longed to see her. Did she have any idea how she had occupied his drug-induced dreams? It felt as if he had made love to her a thousand times, in every way, in every position in which a man and woman could pleasure each other. Now, awake at last, he burned for her.
But why did she not come to see him, if only as a courtesy? McTavish or another servant would be there—it would not be improper for her to stop by.
Charley and Paddy had gotten the news that he was awake and conscious of his surroundings. They visited that very same day.
“—and, Ace, her name is Mary, she’s a kitchen maid here, the most beautiful colleen you ever laid eyes on—”
Charley said, “Shut up about ’er, Paddy. Ace is going to think you only came ’ere to talk about the kitchen maid, not to wish ’im an ’ealthy recovery.”
“It’s all right, Charley. Talk all you want about her, Paddy—it makes a nice change from lying here all drugged up.”
So Paddy babbled on about the pretty red-haired maid. And all Ace could think was,My friends came right away to see me. Where is Josie, meanwhile? She’s living here, right in this house. Could she not just come up and say hello, now that I’m awake?
Four days passed. Ace counted every one. To ignore him when he was so badly injured—she was cold-hearted, that much was certain. Finally, Lady Josephine appeared at his door, looking a little tentative and shy.Well she should be embarrassed—after abandoning me completely when I’ve needed her.
Lady Josephine was wearing a white muslin day dress—what did they call them? Tea gowns? She had a white ribbon in her wavy hair. She looked very young.But I will not be fooled by her supposed innocence again. The woman is a witch. She has brought me nothing but trouble.
“Mr. Smith?”
So she remembers how I reproached her for calling me “Ace.” How I would love to hear her call me that again. But no, I must steel myself against my soft feelings for her.
“The maid brought you some soup. Do you need help with sipping it?”
“No, Lady Josephine. You need not exert yourself on my account. I have been well cared for here by Mr. McTavish and others.”
He knew he sounded cold and churlish.Well, damn it, I have a right to be angry.
To drive his point home, he said, “It has not mattered that you have had no time for me, my lady. Your calendar was no doubt full of tea parties and balls. Believe me, I understand your priorities in life.”There. That was bitter but she deserves it.
He looked up a moment later, in time to see two crystalline tears roll down her cheeks. She stood up and left the room.
“Lady Josephine!” he called after her. He suddenly felt like a worm for his behavior to her. And then, “Josie!” But she didn’t hear him. She was gone. He felt like crying himself.
* * *
Mary the kitchen maid was faring better in the romance department than her mistress, Lady Josephine, was. Paddy and Charley came to Clover House almost daily. Ostensibly, it was to see if their own boss, Mr. Smith, had any errands for them. It was well known among the servants that Mr. Smith was a famous pugilist who needed a couple of employees of his own to handle his affairs. But it was clear to anyone watching that Paddy was smitten with Mary, and that was his primary reason for showing up every day.
Mary was thrilled by the attention from the handsome Irish boy. “He’s ever so smart, Mrs. Donovan,” she confided. “He’s seen so much of the world.”
“Back streets of London, that’s the world he’s seen, I wager,” said Polly, Mary’s fellow kitchen maid. Polly had never liked Mary. Mary’s good looks were flashy, in Polly’s opinion.
“He’s a good lad, and smart,” Mrs. Donovan said, trying to keep the peace between the girls. “But I reckon he’s more street-smart than book-smart. His work for Mr. Smith, now—I won’t say anything against it. But I’d rather see you with a lad that had steady employment, as a footman or a groom, or even as a clerk in some shop.”
