“Go along, then, Royce. Settle her Ladyship.” Giles rose. “We will meet in the morning, Ma’am, when you are rested.”
“I would like that, Giles,” she answered from the security of Royce’s arms. “I have questions.”
“It is only to be expected,” he bowed. “I will answer them.”
Royce glanced at Giles, saw the brief nod, and walked from the room, barely allowing Gwyneth time to call her thanks to Evan for a wonderful meal and bid the others goodnight.
Gabriel looked a little lost, but did not hesitate to help Jeremy and Evan. These men really had formed a tightly knit group, she thought. Their courtesies to each other, their jests, their conversation…all spoke to the kind of friendship that helped and supported, rather than teased and discouraged.
“You’ll have to do without your maid, tonight, my Lady,” grunted Royce as he carried her up the stairs.
“I assume you’re referring to Gabriel?” Her eyebrow rose at him. “A fine gentleman who has been very kind to me. And since you mentioned it, why don’t I have my own maid?”
“You’ll have to ask Giles that,” he answered shortly.
Irritated, she frowned. “You can be sure I will.”
He nodded, opened the door to her room with his shoulder, and carried her inside, walking to the bed and putting her down quite abruptly.
She felt a flare of anger jump inside her. “Thank you. You may go now.”
“No,” he said, standing in front of her. “Not until you’re in bed.”
She raised her chin. “I can manage.”
“Really?” His look said it all.
Gritting her teeth, she glared back. “Yes.”
“Show me,” he stepped back. “Stand up, then go and relieve yourself on your own.”
She wanted to smack that smug look from his face. Gabriel had handled the necessities elegantly and with gracious concern. She’d needed his assistance and was grateful for it long before she might have been embarrassed by it.
But Royce turned it into a challenge, the bastard.
The screen was in one corner of her room. Slowly, she stood, letting her legs take her weight. She was steadier than she thought, although the weakness and the weariness were still there in force.
Holding on to the bed post she faced Royce. “You may leave,” she repeated.
He walked to the chair by the bed and sat. “No,” he answered once more. “Show me you can manage by yourself and I will go.”
Forcing her body upright, she let go of the bedpost, remembering that she could indeed walk by herself. Had she not done so earlier? She’d walked downstairs without a problem.
Of course, she’d had Giles’s arm, and had just awoken from a nap, but still. Bravely she ignored Royce and took a couple of steps unaided. Encouraged, she took two more…and faltered.
He was there in an instant, catching her up, lifting her off her feet and taking her to the screen. He put her down when they got there. “I will trust you to do what is necessary without my assistance, but I am not leaving until you’re tucked in. Get that through your head. Let me know when you’re done.”
She heard him stalk away, and then she heard drawers opening and closing.
It was a few moments before she could even consider relieving herself, but the need was there. And eventually it was done. More comfortable, but every bit as angry, she forced herself to call.
“Royce.”
He appeared, picked her up and carried her over to the bed, where a nightgown was now laid out. She’d forgotten she wore a robe and chemise—she’d have to undress. Damn the man.
“Yes, youwilldon your nightgown, my Lady. You might as well accept it, rather than staring at it. It won’t bite.”
“You might, though,” she grumbled under her breath.
