“Then fetch the laudanum from my carriage and prepare your mistress some tea.”
Justin walked up the stairs bearing Jillian with him. “Which one is your room?” he asked when he reached the top of the stairs.
She directed him to the far end of the hall. Again, he was surprised by the quiet elegance that matched the rest of the house. The room had a decidedly feminine appeal and her scent lingered tantalizingly in the air. The space was decorated in white and yellow, lending brightness to the room. The large window to the right of the bed offered a picturesque view of the neighboring rooftops. He thought now, more than ever, that the version of herself that Jillian presented in public was not indicative of the real person underneath. The question was, why the façade?
He eased her down on the bed, just as Hilda swept in behind them. She was in an obvious state of distress, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth in front of Jillian’s bed.
“Why don’t you start a fire,” Justin suggested.
“Yes, yes, of course,” she said in a flustered voice. She hurried off to get the wood.
Elsie came in with a cup of tea as Hilda exited. “I’ve added the laudanum to her tea, your grace.”
Justin took the tea from Elsie and handed it to Jillian. “Drink it all, it will help you rest.”
“Justin, thank you,” she said, her wide green eyes looking earnestly at him.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly.
“Will you stay until I go to sleep?”
“Of course,” he replied, sitting down beside her bed. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your night clothes?” he asked, looking at her wrinkled day dress.
“Yes, I think I would,” she replied. She then blushed from the roots of her hair to her toes.
“I’ll turn my back,” he offered. “Just tell me if you need any help.” He eased her up and helped her over to her wardrobe. He supposed it would have been more sensible and certainly more proper if he just summoned her maid to assist her, but he wanted to be the one to help her, and strangely enough, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t concerned with propriety.
When she was finished, he turned around and quickly sucked in his breath. No matter how modest her night rail, and it was modest indeed, he could see every curve through the thin material. She blushed pink once more under his scrutiny. How was it such a worldly, flamboyant woman could appear so innocent?
He placed a tight rein on his emotions and helped her to the bed easing her under the covers. The effect of the laudanum was already evident. Her eyes were heavy, and she was struggling to remain awake.
“Don’t fight it,” he said softly, his voice almost a caress.
Her eyelids fluttered once more, and she surrendered to her fatigue. He studied her while she slept, her dark lashes resting softly on her cheeks. She gripped his hand so trustingly. Her hand was small in his much larger one, the skin pale and soft. Reluctantly, he eased her hand from his and he crept quietly out of the room. After instructing her servants not to disturb her, he took his leave.
It began to rain as he pulled up in front of his home. Dodging the falling drops, he hurried inside to see how Harry was faring. He found Case in the sitting room, talking to the doctor, who had just finished setting Harry’s arm.
“How is he?” Justin asked as he approached the two men.
“I’ve set his arm. He can go home as soon as he is ready,” the doctor replied.
“How is Jillian?” Case asked.
“She’s resting. With the laudanum, she will likely sleep through to the morning.”
Case looked relieved. “I’ll take Harry home and check in on her for a moment.”
After the two men left, Justin returned to his study. He stood in the window sipping a brandy and watching it rain. The gray overcast sky and gentle rainfall was typical of London in the late autumn. Winter was nearly at hand, the leaves long gone from the trees, a brisk cold already pervading the air.
In past years, he would already be ensconced at Whittington, a roaring fire in the hearth, his hunting hounds at his feet. So why had he chosen to stay in London? A week ago he would have said that he wanted to keep an eye on Jillian and do everything in his power to end her association with Case. Now, if he were honest, he would admit that his decision to stay had everything to with wanting to see her again, to be near her. He enjoyed their banter, her feisty retorts to his needling. He liked that she wasn’t intimidated by him.
The other women of thetonsimpered and dithered in his presence and if he were to ask them to jump into the Thames, they would likely comply.
Changing his opinion of her and admitting the possibility that he was wrong was hard to swallow, but it was increasingly apparent that hewaswrong about her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jillian’s eyes fluttered open, and she closed them just as quickly when pain snaked through her head. She struggled to remember the events that had transpired, and she opened her eyes once more, realizing she was in her bed.
