Flynn’s eyes opened. He peered dazedly at her. “Althea!”
“Oh, my love.” She impatiently swiped at the tears beginning to cloud her vision.
His face twisting in pain, Flynn struggled to sit up.
“Please don’t move, darling. The surgeon will be here soon.” She poured a half-glass of brandy that Lord Strathairn had sent up with the tea and added a dash of water to it from a jug on the dresser. She supported Flynn, adding a pillow behind his head. He drank a little, and color flooded back into his face.
He laid his head back on the pillows. “Crowthorne?”
“Dead. You shot him.”
Flynn’s brow lifted and his eyes widened. “I did?”
“According to Strathairn.”
His smile became a painful grimace. “I have you here, safe, that’s all that matters.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I will later. I love you, Althea.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I have for a long time. You must forgive me for my tardiness. I’m a slow-witted fellow.”
She smiled as hope warmed her. “That you are not.”
“I want to marry you, for us to share our lives together…but the king’s grant was not a financial one. I remain a very poor bargain.”
Althea raised an eyebrow. “You’ve changed your mind then? You wish to marry an heiress?”
“No!” He huffed out a painful laugh. “Good God no!”
“Then we shall manage.” She would wear rags and starve just to be with him.
“The king wishes me to become ambassador to Spain.”
Her heart leapt. “Then we will go to Spain.”
“Spain remains far too dangerous.” He frowned “Will you wait for me?”
“No, I will not. I shall come with you. You shan’t get rid of me that easily.”
“We’ll discuss that later,” he said, smiling slightly.
“I mean it Flynn. You’ll not leave me behind.”
He sighed. “I expect you’ll wish to live in England. Not here in this shabby place which is impossible to clean and heat.”
“I love this house. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate my improvements.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “What have you done?”
She told him of her small touches and her plans for further improvements.
He ran a finger along her cheek. “How lucky am I?”
“I love you, Flynn.” She leant over him and carefully pressed her lips to his. Flynn’s good arm came around her and, with a soft moan, he deepened the kiss.
“Begorra!” The door had opened to admit the surgeon carrying a leather case. “I was called to attend a man at death’s door. That cannot be you, my lord?”
Lord Strathairn, who followed the doctor in, grinned and nodded at Flynn, then left the room again.
