He winced and gently withdrew her hand from his arm, raising it to his lips. “Darling Henrietta. Who told you?”
“I overheard some men at Baroness La Trobe’s ball last night.” She studied him carefully. Although his olive skin was pale, he didn’t appear desperately ill. She leaned over to place a hand on his forehead. It was reassuringly cool. “What does the doctor say?”
He gave a crooked smile. “I’ll live.”
“Oh, my darling,” she whispered. “You’ll never get rid of me now.”
Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes as he spoke to the manservant still hovering at the door. “Tea, please, Beaton. And something tasty to eat for my… soon to be wife.”
Beaton broke into a smile. “Right away, sir.”
Henrietta tenderly studied her love. So, this was why he called off their engagement. He was sent on a dangerous mission by the government.
The door closed behind the butler. “As soon as you’re strong enough, I shall take you to the country to recuperate. And I intend to keep you there. No more gallivanting around, Christian. I prefer a quiet life.” She took a deep breath, ready to fight him should he think of objecting.
His chuckle turned into a cough then he winced.
Concerned, she poured a glass of water from a pitcher on a table and handed it to him. “I suppose you can’t tell me where you’ve been or how you were hurt?”
“No, my love. This gunshot wound heals well. Do you understand why I had to say what I did? I hated to hurt you, Henrietta. But I thought…”
Men were so stupid at times. Even the smartest and the bravest of them. She took the glass from him and put it down. “Hush, darling. Of course, I do. You thought you’d die and wished to spare me. It doesn’t matter now. But,” she shook her finger at him, “please don’t do it again.”
He grinned. “I have no intention of it.” He traced his fingers in a cross over his heart. “I promise.”
“Good.” She laughed. “Now you must concentrate on getting well. And I will care for you until you do.”
“Give me a kiss then.”
She bent over and took his dear face in her hands then pressed her mouth gently to his. His good arm came around her, and with a soft moan pulled her against him, kissing her with a fervor that belied his weakened condition. The passionate response was exactly what she needed. How she had missed him and his kisses.
When she drew away, he shook his head. “Good Lord, Henrietta. Let’s marry as soon as I’m on my feet.”
“Or before.” She leaned over and kissed him again. “Oh!” she said after she reluctantly drew away, “You won’t have heard. Papa and Verity have married.”
He smiled. “I am very pleased for them.”
“And Philippe’s well again. He received a letter from Mademoiselle Josette. She escaped punishment and has returned to her farm.”
“You are the purveyor of excellent news. Kiss me again.”
She obliged, then brushed his dark hair back from his forehead. His hand roamed over her back and down to trace the curve of her waist to her hip. Then he gently pushed her away. “I want no scandal attached to you, my love. You must go home after your tea.”
“Can I come every day and help to take care of you?”
He shook his head. “Too dangerous.”
She frowned. “Dangerous?”
“Mmm. Especially when I’m stronger.”
She laughed. A knock at the door then Beaton entered with the tea things. Another servant followed behind with two tasty breakfasts.
Beaton set the cups and plates out on the table.
“I’m afraid I have sad news for Verity,” Christian said.
“Oh?”
