He fought to gather his bearings. “All right. I’ll return shortly. Just use the cool compresses. We’ll get her through this,” he said with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. He hurried down to the main floor in hunt for the innkeepers. It was time to locate a physician.
He was a duke, by God. Some things took precedence.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” the innkeeper’s wife told Sebastian. “There ain’t no physician this far out from London. The closest thing to a medicine man we have here is the apothecary in Basingstoke …”
With a grimace, Sebastian instructed her to send for the apothecary then ordered fresh cool water and hurried back up without finding and speaking to Barrett at all.
Nineteen
Rebecca woke slowly. Her skin was sticky, her cotton night rail stuck to her, and her legs were trapped beneath the bedclothes. She glanced over and gasped. For the second morning in a row, Sebastian lay beside her, his nose nestled on her shoulder. One arm trapped her torso and his leg covered hers. “Your Grace? What the devil are you about?” she hissed in breathless outrage. “Get off.”
He nuzzled her night rail from her shoulder and set his lips to her skin.
Again, she gasped, and he stilled beside her, slowly lifting his head. “What is this on your shoulder?”
“W-what?”
He sat up and lit a candle. “Your shoulder. There’s something there.Anotherscar?” He sounded outraged.
“None of which are your concern! Now, move.”
“Not until I get some answers. What happened?”
“Move,” she whispered, furious that her voice didn’t seem to be working as she intended. A threatening sting moved behind her eyes.
“How many more are there I should know about?” he demanded. “What happened to your temple?”
She gave up trying to push him away. It was a useless endeavor anyway. “I was hit with a rock. A boy was about to shoot a kitten with a handmade catapulting device. For sport. He shot me instead. I was ten. Are you satisfied?”
“Not quite, my lady. The wound on your shoulder?”
“Blast it, you are not my father!”
He didn’t budge. “I have all night,” he told her calmly.
“A couple of years later, the same boy was going after a newborn foal with a dagger. It was a fight.Iwon.”
“Not quite, you didn’t,” he said on a disgusted snort. “Your arm?”
“That’s enough,” she bit out. “I don’t owe you the slightest explanation. Call my maid if you please. I require her assistance.” She tried sitting but was too weak to affect such a demanding feat. This was a horrid mess to be in and the tears were gathering. She hated crying. It was the worst sort of weakness.
“Lady Rebecca?” Serena was at her side in an instant, appearing like an apparition.
“I need help, Serena. The chamber pot,” she said, determined to put Ryleigh at his most uncomfortable. Heshould notbe sleeping alongside her.
Once inside the smaller room and Rebecca had taken care of her business, she turned to Serena. “How bad is it?”
“Um, what do you mean, milady?”
“I mean, why was the duke Sleeping. Next. To. Me?” She punctuated each word with a hiss.
“He refused to relinquish you to my care. I could hardly move him. Besides, he told me his intentions were honorable.”
“Hewhat?”
Serena shrugged.
Rebecca stopped and faced her maid, her hands planted on her hips. She grew dizzy and put her hand on the wall to steady herself. “He just came out and told you that? For no reason whatsoever?”
