“Well, as you are so fond of pointing out, I am hardly proper. Besides, I feel responsible for your injury.”
He saw it was pointless to argue with her. She probably hadn't lost an argument in her entire life.
When they arrived at Justin’s residence, he handed Jillian his cloak. “Put this on and cover your head. It wouldn’t do for you to be seen entering my house at this hour.”
She threw him a dirty look.
“I am thinking about you,” he growled. “What reputation you havewould be in ruins were it common knowledge that you were here alone with me. Case is hardly a suitable chaperone.”
“He’s right, Jilly, put the cloak on.”
Once inside, Jillian immediately started issuing instructions. She sent Case to get water and a suitable dressing for the wound and then ushered Justin towards his bedroom. Edward met them at the foot of the stairs looking as unruffled as ever.
“Can I be of any assistance, your grace?”
“You can help me get him up the stairs and into his bed,” Jillian interrupted, before Justin could reply.
“I don’t need help,” he gritted out. “There is nothing wrong with my legs.”
“Do quit being such a dolt, and let us help you,” she scolded, ignoring his objections.
“Indeed, your grace, you look as if you require assistance,” Edward said, getting to his other side.
Justin’s eyes narrowed. He was sure he read amusement in Edward’s eyes. Impossible, since he was surely the stoniest-faced butler in all of England. “What are you finding so amusing?” he growled.
“I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about, your grace,” he said calmly. But still Justin could see laughter reflected.
“Bloody hell!” he grumbled. “The whole lot of you are insufferable.”
“We need to get him into bed so I can clean the wound,” Jillian said impatiently. “I don’t want him getting a fever.”
“I do not get fevers,” he huffed.
“On the contrary, your grace, I remember a time you were quite senseless for two full days with a fever.”
“That is quite enough, Edward,” Justin gritted out. “Let’s get on with it and dispense with reliving old memories.”
Again Edward seemed to suppress a smile, and they continued up the stairs to Justin’s bed chamber.
“I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself,” Justin hissed, fixing Edward with a glare.
Jillian was impressed by the simplicity of his bedroom. A large, very masculine looking, mahogany bed sat in the center of the room. The walls were bare, as was the furniture that sparsely dotted the room. A small table sat beside the bed with a snuffed candle resting in a holder. Edward hurried over to light the candle then crossed the room to light an oil lamp that hung just over his dressing table. Soon the room was bathed in a warm glow.
Jillian urged him down on the bed. “You need to remove your shirt. I’m afraid it’s ruined in any event.” He unbuttoned his shirt awkwardly, wincing as he reached for the higher buttons. “How thoughtless of me,” she chided. “Let me help you.”
“That isn’t necessary,” he said quickly. “Edward can do it.” But Edward had disappeared from the room.
“As I was saying, I will help you.” She gently unbuttoned the remaining buttons and pulled the shirt apart. She sucked in her breath, feeling curiously light-headed as she bared his well-muscled chest. It was the most magnificent chest she had ever seen, never mind that this was only the second one she had ever viewed. Surely most chests weren’t this beautiful, though. What it would feel like to touch it? She jerked herself out of her daze, her face hot at the direction her thoughts had taken.
Justin was slowly going mad. It was torture watching her breasts bob under the tight-fitting shirt. When her fingers made contact with his back as she slid the shirt from his shoulders, he jumped as if he had been burned.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked in concern.
“I’m fine,” he ground out. He was grateful when Case returned with the water and bandages.
“Lie down,” she instructed, taking the water from Case. She gently washed the wound. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stitch it?”
“I’m sure. Just bandage it—it will be fine.”
