They’d done nothing more than share a few amorous embraces, but those had been enough to inspire love on his part.
He’d begun dreaming of a life with the earl’s daughter. They would run off together. He’d find a way to provide for her, and eventually a family.
By the end of the season, he’d formulated quite the plan.
And then she’d told him she had become engaged to a young viscount. She was to be married in the summer.
Niles had thought she was joking. It seemed impossible that she could live her life without him.
Even now, he disparaged himself for his naivete.
He’d not make such a mistake again.
He needed to absent himself from Eve’s room. Already, that kiss…
It caused his heart to ache along with all the other aching muscles plaguing him.
“Niles?” She spoke softly. He opened his eyes to see her studying him, holding a cup of something. He’d not heard her cross the room to kneel on the floor beside the bed. “Can you drink? I wondered if you might want to eat something. I had some bread and cheese delivered earlier. And some whiskey. And willow bark powder. You need something to ease your pain.”
“Eve.” The word sounded hoarse. He ought to be taking care of her. “How long have I been asleep?” His body screamed at the idea of sitting up.
“Just a few hours.” She touched his forehead with her fingertips. “You’ve a fever.”
She looked like an angel, kneeling there, dressed head to toe in white. Niles managed to lift his hand enough to touch the curling ends of her hair. He’d wanted to touch her hair for a long time now.
Silky and soft. What would it feel like on his face? On his chest?
“Drink this.” She was bending over him now, holding the cup to his lips. The scent of lemon and something floral surrounded him with feminine comfort.
He didn’t want to disappoint her and so forced himself to sit up enough to swallow most of the liquid. The willow bark left a bitterness on his lips.
And the sitting had sent shards of pain knifing through his chest and side. When he inhaled sharply, his reward was another stab of pain.
Hell and damnation. “Whiskey?” If he could down a half a bottle, that might relieve some of it.
She offered him a spoonful.
At least he wasn’t required to sit up again.
“I believe you might have broken one of your ribs.”
Or two, or three... “I have. Not the first time. Nothing to be done.” If he remembered correctly, the injury had required nearly a month to heal.
“Rest then.” She spoke firmly. “And you’ll need out of those clothes.”
At some time, she must have removed his boots. Damn, he’d have made a mess of the bed linens with the mud on his trousers.
Efficient hands were unbuttoning his waistcoat. “Get these off and I’ll give you more whiskey,” she murmured, apparently sensing his reluctance.
Oh, agony and some twisted delight on his part. He’d not bargained on the feel of her hands skimming his bare skin while she managed to tug his shirt over his head
“It is bruised and swollen here.” Careful fingertips grazed the now exposed area along his side. “And here.” She touched the spot just below his left breast. “Let’s remove your trousers, Mr. Waverly.”
“Damnit, woman.” Niles was not used to such helplessness. “I can manage.”
“It’s not as though I’ve never seen—”
“Eve,” he warned. This was not the way he’d imagined getting naked with this woman.
