“May I have assistance?”
She quickly glanced to note that Claybrook had lifted himself only so much that he was supporting his weight with his elbows. His face was strained and given the numerous bruises she’d noted on his torso concluded that he was likely in a great deal of pain. “Here.” She grabbed the extra pillows and put them behind his head and shoulders to offer support.
Claybrook relaxed back into a reclining position then blew out a sigh. While one hand grasped the blanket across his body, the other reached for the glass. Even his arms were bruised.
“Let me.” Bethany leaned forward and put the glass to his lips and tried to ignore his broad, naked shoulders.
She may need to leave and stand outside so that the temperature of her body could return to normal.
“Thank you,” Claybrook murmured.
Bethany took the glass and set it aside.
He then lay back and closed his eyes.
Bethany watched on with concern.
Leopold groaned.
She straightened.
“Chamber…” he didn’t finish but placed a hand over his mouth.
Bethany grabbed the closest vessel, which unfortunately was the pitcher and held it as Claybrook tossed up his accounts.
When done, he once again fell back against the pillows, eyes closed.
While concerned for his wellbeing, she also sighed as his breathing grew steady. It was probably best that he slept while his body recovered.
Brushing his tousled hair across his brow, Bethany was reminded that at one time she cared so deeply for him. In fact, she’d been in love with the Duke of Claybrook and had even been hopeful that they would court. She had wanted him to call on her, but then she realized that the Duke of Claybrook had only been toying with her affections. She had been so angry and had acted spontaneously for the first time in her life and pushed him into the Serpentine. She almost regretted it immediately and when he asked why she had pushed him, she couldn’t tell him with so many watching and listening, so asked him to call on her.
He never did. If he had ever cared, he would have visited.
Bethany turned her back once again on Claybrook.
It was better this way. He thought of her as a bird-witted twit and he was boorish and difficult. Why she still cared, she had no idea, but she did.
Drat him!
Jason, her footman returned a moment later with the cloths and water she had requested, and Bethany set to washing the dried blood from Claybrook’s face. He did not wake, which brought even deeper concern for his health.
Was he more injured than she realized?
Chapter Three
When Leopold next woke, the room was bright from the sunlight and Bethany stood by the window speaking to an older man.
“I have stitched the gash in his head, but as he did not wake while I was doing so, it gives me grave concern.”
Was he going to die?
“I do not believe any of his limbs are fractured, but it is possible that a rib or two are bruised. He took quite a beating.”
That explained why it was painful to take a deep breath.
“His Grace should not travel or even leave this chamber for a sennight. At best he should remain in bed, but it has been my experience that those of higher rank do what they wish despite my advice.”
“Sennight!” Bethany exclaimed.
