Lady Easton nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
He jolted. “For what?”
“Saving my friend,” she said softly. “I cannot lose her.”
He did not respond to her gratitude. Kingston did not know what he could even say to it. He had not saved Jaclyn for Lady Easton. He had not even considered what his motivations were when he dove into the pond after her. Instead of trying to find the right words, he turned and left her alone with Jaclyn and headed back down to the sitting room.
Not long after he returned to the sitting room, the marquess returned with the doctor. They entered the room with a sense of urgency. “Where is the patient?” the doctor asked.
“We have her in a bedchamber,” Kingston responded. “I can show you where to find her.”
The doctor nodded at him, and they rushed up the stairs. He rapped his knuckles on the closed door. “The doctor is here,” he said loudly. “May we enter?”
“Come in,” Lady Easton told them.
The doctor immediately went to work, checking Jaclyn’s pulse, her breathing, her temperature. As he did so, Kingston stood back, keeping his distance, though his eyes remained fixed on the woman whom he could not stop thinking about.
After a long, tense moment, the doctor straightened. “She will recover,” he assured them both. “She was fortunate—very fortunate. With rest and care, she will be well.”
A wave of relief washed over Kingston. But at the same time, a thought lingered, one that he could no longer ignore. He had nearly lost her, and that realization had changed everything. There was no denying the deep affection he had developed for her. He had tried to keep it at bay, tried to convince himself it was merely the circumstances of the moment. But now, as he watched her stir on the bed, he knew that it was more than that. But what exactly that entailed… he wanted to discover it. He wanted to become closer to her and for that he needed her to be well.
Easton turned toward him, his voice quiet. “You did a good thing today.”
Kingston looked at his friend, surprised. “It was nothing.”
“We should leave them alone,” Easton said. “Charlotte will see that she is taken care of and she has everything she needs.”
Kingston’s gaze returned to Jaclyn, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. His heart tightened as he stared at her prone form. It was time, indeed. And when she was well, he would put his plan into action. Not just his plan for revenge, but his plans for her specifically. He would not let fear steal this chance from him. Not again.
“You’re right,” Kingston said. “She will be fine here with your wife. Let’s retire to your study.” He turned and met his friend’s gaze. “I do not know about you, but I could use a spot of brandy. But first I need to change out of these wet clothes.”
The marquess clapped his back. “I will meet you there. Do not tarry too long, my friend,” he said.
Easton left and went down the hall toward the stairs. Kingston glanced one last time at Jaclyn before he turned in the direction of his own bedchamber. He would check on her later when there was not an audience to overhear or see anything he did not wish them to. She would likely be at Easton Abbey through her recovery, and he fully intended to use that to his advantage.
He went into his bedchamber and removed his wet clothing quickly. He had not lied when he said he could use some brandy. Now that Jaclyn’s care was seen to, he felt cold to his bones. He could use something to warm his blood and erase the stark fear that had held him in its grasp.
He moved to the large mahogany wardrobe that stood at the far side of the room and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. He shivered as he removed his soaked garments, feeling the weight of the cold still pressing on him. His hands shook slightly as he pulled on a clean shirt, the fabric soft against his skin but doing little to stave off the deep-rooted cold. He could not wait to have that glass of brandy in his hand. He anticipated the burn as it traveled down his throat. He needed it for more than its warmth, but also to help him gain some sort of balance after the harrowing encounter.
Once he was changed, he left his bedchamber and went to join the marquess in his study. Later, he would check on Jaclyn and set his plans in motion. He still did not fully know what he wanted from her, but he knew one thing with certainty. He wanted her… and he would have her.
Seven
Jaclyn stirred from the fog of unconsciousness slowly, her mind clouded and distant, as if she were trapped between two worlds. The muffled sounds of a fire crackling nearby, the faint rustle of fabric, and the soft creak of wood filled her ears, but nothing seemed to make sense. No matter how much she tried she could not unscramble the thoughts in her mind. Her head hurt something fierce, and it was a struggle to breathe.
Cautiously, Jaclyn opened her eyes. She blinked, attempting to bring her surroundings into focus, but everything was blurry—shapes and shadows, all swirling around her in a haze. Her throat was dry, raw with each swallow, and her head throbbed as though a thousand tiny hammers were beating against it. A sharp ache in her body left her feeling as if her limbs were made of lead, and an unnatural heat pulsed through her, leaving her flushed and overly warm. She slid her eyes closed unable to fight the need to return to slumber. She wanted to be awake, but it was too difficult. She had to fight the need somehow. She had to understand what was happening with her.
Jaclyn's eyes fluttered open again, and the room around her slowly became less blurry but her vision remained clouded and the unfamiliar surroundings only deepened her confusion. The walls were draped in soft, muted hues, and delicate furnishings filled the space. This was not the room she had been in before, nor was it her own. At Havenwood she shared a room with two other ladies, and there were no others or even a hint of them in the room.
There had to be some clue as to where she was and why she had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Jaclyn would have to leave the bed and investigate. For that she would have to attempt to move and she was afraid that might prove impossible. She laid her hand on the bed and tried to push herself upright but found herself weighed down by an overwhelming fatigue, her body refusing to respond to her will. As much as she wanted to leave the bed she did not believe she would be able to accomplish that task. Especially as it continued to be a great effort to remain awake. The temptation to fall back into the dark comfort of unconsciousness was strong. But her thoughts—fuzzy as they were—clung to the truth of her situation. She needed to wake. She needed to understand what had happened. Was someone else in the room with her? She blinked again and realized, yes, there was someone. It was a… man.
He seemed to notice her stirring, for he leaned forward slightly, his voice a low murmur, though his words were nearly incomprehensible in her foggy state. “Don’t try to move…” That voice… It was familiar. Why was it so familiar? “You have been asleep a while. The doctor believes you need to remain in bed and rest to have a full recovery.”
Her gaze slowly drifted to the figure sitting at the side of her bed. How had she not noticed him sooner? The man was imposing on a good day, but Jaclyn did not fear him. He was familiar to her and though her mind screamed at her to push the recognition away she could not do it. She squinted, trying to make sense of the shape before her. His broad shoulders and strong frame. That sharp jawline, those dark eyes, full of unreadable emotion. Oh yes, she would never be able to forget this man. Not him. Not the duke... He would forever be imbedded in her memory even when she wished she could erase him from the depths of her mind.
“You’re safe here,” he said. “I promise.”
Her brow furrowed at his words, her confusion intensifying. Safe? She had to ask him, had to know, why he was there by her bedside. As if he cared… The Duke of Amberwood did not care that much for her. He had held nothing but disdain for her ever since that awful night at Vauxhall. She tried to speak, but her throat constricted painfully, and she coughed, a rasping sound that left her feeling more exhausted than before.
