Her face pinched. “It is perfectly common for a lord to take a mistress, I know this, sir.” She struggled. “It is simply not acceptable formeto be your mistress. Should I have no sibling I’d not care a fig if Jenkins found me out, but I cannot compromise Eleanor’schance at a suitable match. She must be settled before Papa is gone so that she . . .” She sank back against the pillow in exhaustion, her face suddenly drained.
“Hush, Fox.” He stroked her cheek as she closed her eyes. “Your secret is safe. I shall do all I can to safeguard your sister’s reputation.”
“Roland,” her lips whispered.
“Yes, Fox?”
“Thank you,” she said, as he pressed a kiss, softly, to her forehead.
Charles slept soundly the rest of that night, and at dawn, when she awoke, the fog in her head had cleared, and with it the storm outside. Beside her lay his lordship, still fully clothed, and she noticed she wore one of his shirts. Had his lordship undressed and bathed her last night? It seemed too menial a task for Wells to perform, but she couldn’t imagine Cuthbert had, and if Jenkins hadn’t known her whereabouts either then . . .
“Morning, Fox. How’s my patient?” His hand rested gently, possessively almost, at her hip.
“Better, sir, thank you.”
“Good.” He kissed her cheek. “You had me worried last night.”
“Worried?” She smiled. “Surely Lord Roland Rutherford Wellesley does not worry himself over his servants.”
“Only his favorite servants, miss. Only those who serve him exceptionally well,” he teased back.
“Exceptional?” She arched her brow. “I see your estimation of my skills has increased, my lord. Pray tell what else I must yet master to properly serve a future duke’s bed?”
***
Wells felt his gut clench. “Do not tempt me with words, Fox, while you still heal. Otherwise I shall be forced to take advantage of your weakened state in ways that might only be deemed shameless.”
“Shameless, Lord Wells, is your middle name.”
He could tell she was feeling better.
“I should be remiss as mistress, my lord, were I not to learn every shameless act, position, and manner of pleasure to ensure your appetite is duly sated.”
“Woman, you are wicked,” he whispered in her ear, running his tongue down her neck till she shivered.
“I enjoy being wicked with you, Roland,” she whispered back. “You are my weakness, sir.”
“As are you mine.” His tongue took greater liberty, until he had to stop himself from abusing her more. “Yet I am not so wicked as to ravish you while infirm.” He slipped from the bed. “I must rouse Fergus, after all, and see to the boiling of your sheets.” He grinned at her. “And I’m afraid it’s back to trousers for you today while the mud is scrubbed from your uniform. Who’s the girl in laundry now?”
“Ginny, sir. Only I think it time, my lord, that I have more than one dress to wear. You did promise me that bolt of cloth, sir.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He remembered. “’Tis I who’ve been remiss, Charles. As mistress you deserve gifts and gowns, and were we in London . . .” He abruptly broke off. “Yet I do have a gift.” He quickly fetched the package that had recently arrived.
“What is this, my lord?” Charles opened the box and with a look of shock pulled back the thin wrapping paper to remove silk stockings, silk ribbons, and a chemise of gossamer thin fabric. She stared up at him, confused—as if she’d never seen such undergarments in her life.
“For you to wear, Fox, in bed.” His eyes met hers. “It’s what a proper mistress would wear when visited by her lover.”
Charles blushed but then immediately put the things away. “I see it is a gift foryou, then, my lord, not for me.” She hastily placed the lid on the box and set it aside.
It was his turn to be surprised. “I hadn’t considered . . .” He felt suddenly contrite. “Of course it is a gift for us both, I thought, to enjoy.” He was no longer sure what to say.
“It is most generous of you, sir,” she said politely, but he could tell she was not pleased.
“I’ve upset you, haven’t I?”
“No, my lord.” Her smile was forced. “Not in the least. Only it is time, I think, I returned to my room and assured Mrs. Jenkins of my health. And saw to the cleaning of my uniform. I would appreciate that fabric you promised me, and as Ruby is the best seamstress on staff, I will set her this task.”
She moved to leave the bed and stand, but when she wobbled a step, he caught her. “Charles,” he told her sternly, “clearly you are not well enough to?—”
