“He is exceptionally kind. I’m sure he would agree with my views and support such a project.”
Marcus wasn’t the least bit sure. Even if Nigel fell madly in love with her, he’d never been the sort of man who wanted to face the unpolished aspects of life. Not for a lack of kindness, but rather because he preferred to ignore the existence of them. The only way in which Lady Louise would gain his help was if it somehow served his position.
“But it hardly matters now, if there are already schools available,” Lady Louise murmured. “My thought was to fill a need, not to compete against others.”
“The schools I mentioned are for adults,” Marcus told her with every intention of making her hold onto her dream. “Perhaps you could make one for children.”
Her smile broadened. “What a marvelous idea, Mr. Berkly. Perhaps you and I can discuss the means by which to accomplish such a thing. Unless there are other more pressing matters for you to address?” The clock chimed. “Good heavens, I’ve already taken so much of your time.”
“If you’ll recall, I was trying to teach myself German when you woke. My business is done, my lady. I’ve nothing but time from now on, and I would like to spend it discussing plans for a children’s school for the blind.”
“And in exchange, I shall teach you some basic German,” she said with an edge of excitement that pushed his heart into full gallop. “But first, I’d like something to eat and drink since I’m utterly parched and somewhat starving.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry.” Marcus poured a glass of water for her, helped her drink, and rang for a maid to fetch some food.
“Is Hannah not here?” Lady Louise asked.
“She left when I arrived,” Marcus said as he returned to his seat. “I told her to go and get some sleep. Her bleary eyes suggested she watched over you the whole night.”
“Oh dear. The poor woman.”
“You’re lucky to have such a loyal servant in your employ.” Marcus chose not to add that the maid had insisted he maintain a respectable distance from Lady Louise while keeping vigil, and had even reminded him to keep the bedchamber door wide open.
He wasn’t sure what Hannah feared he might do, but she clearly didn’t trust him to keep his hands to himself. Perhaps she was right not to do so. Even now, simply sitting here while Lady Louise lay blindfolded less than two feet away, he was tempted to reach out and smooth back her hair, to clasp her hand in his own and surrender to every temptation she offered.
Desire flared to life once more, tugging at his resolve. He shifted in his seat in a useless attempt to banish his rising discomfort. Lord help him, when it came to Lady Louise, his thoughts were becoming increasingly wicked.
She winced.
He cursed himself for the cad he was. Wondering how she’d respond if he traced her elegant neck with his fingers, allowed the caress to dip lower, wasn’t the least bit useful. “Would you like some more laudanum?”
“No. I...ugh.” She moved her leg about beneath the covers. A hissing sound left her. “It’s a cramp, that’s all, no doubt brought on by too much bed rest.”
“Allow me to help.” Without waiting for her to respond, Marcus rose, pushed back her covers, and grabbed her by the ankle.
Everything inside Louise went still. She couldn’t move. All she could feel were Mr. Berkly’s large hands, warm and capable, pressing and squeezing until the ache eased and subsided. She wanted to sigh with pleasure. Worse, she did not want him to stop.
“How does this feel?” The low tone with which he spoke vibrated through her.
Divine.
“Good.” Her breathy voice made her sound like a blithering idiot. Not that she cared as long as this wondrous man kept working his magic.
“And the cramp? Is it going away?”
“Not quite,” she lied even as her cheeks heated. There was probably a place in hell for women who invited men to touch them in improper ways. To enjoy it probably meant she’d lost her moral compass completely. Perhaps it would be better if she imagined the hands as belonging to the man she intended to marry.
But when she tried to think of Mr. Fairbanks, she had trouble bringing his features into focus. Instead, his image wobbled along the periphery of her memory before being overshadowed by Mr. Berkly’s more prominent attributes. She recalled with clarity the angular shape of his jaw, the perfect line of his nose, the exact shade of his hair – like barley gleaming beneath the summer sun – and the delectable fullness of his mouth.
His thumbs dug into the sole of her foot. He rotated it gently and flexed it back and forth. An involuntary groan escaped Louise’s throat. Heat washed her cheeks as the thought of her mouth meeting his was heightened by pure sensation.
“How about now?” Mr. Berkly asked, his voice a touch deeper and slightly gravelly.
“It’s getting better,” Louise assured him after a moment while wishing he’d never stop his ministrations.
“And your other foot?”
Her stomach flipped over. It almost sounded as though he were equally happy to keep on touching her – that he sought an excuse to do so. Then again, he was a man of medicine whose goal was to see to his patient’s care. So then he was probably just making sure she was comfortable. To read more into it than that would be silly.
