“Does Jasper know you’re bedding a Winter?” Pen asked, ignoring her.
“I’m not bedding a Winter.” She scowled at her sister. “What you saw was…”
Absolutely exquisite.
The most stunning moments of my life.
No, she must not say any of that.
She cleared her throat, all too aware of the heat rising in her face, giving her away. “What you saw was a mistake, one which shan’t be repeated.”
Pen crossed her arms over her chest, looking distinctly unimpressed and unconvinced. “You do know it is the talk of the East End, that Gavin Winter is nowhere to be found and he’s got a match with Jeremiah Jones.”
Caro frowned. “How did you recognize him, and how do you know what match he has next?”
“Lord Aidan,” Pen answered. “He took me to one of the matches. Gavin Winter is a ferocious beast of a man. You should have seen him pummeling the poor fellow.”
A shudder went through her at the thought of Gavin facing an opponent with his fists. She did not like violence, and she never had. Mayhap that was one of the reasons she had so readily thrown herself into the business of being the Sutton healer. It was her means of making amends for that which was out of her control. The Suttons were a rough and ragged band, it was true.
“He does not know who he is, Pen,” she admitted softly. “I found him nearly dead in the streets and had some of the guards take him to my room. Someone tried to kill him.”
“He doesn’t know who he is? But how can that be?”
“I have been poring over my books, and it is not unheard of for someone who receives a blow or blows to the head to suffer from this affliction,” she explained. “Sometimes, the memory returns. Other times, it may not.”
She hoped, for Gavin’s sake, that his would, even if it meant he would realize the depth of her deception. Even if it meant he would never be able to forgive her for her complicity in the lies her brother had required her to tell.
“He has no notion of anything?” Pen asked.
“All he knows is what I have told him. You were right to think Jasper and I have been keeping a secret, and that Gavin Winter is it. But Jasper does not want Gavin to know who he is just yet. Nor does he want anyone else to know who Gavin is or why he is here.”
“Whyishe here?” Pen prodded. “Why not simply contact the Winters and see him gone?”
Gavinandgonein the same sentence made a curious ache pierce Caro’s heart. How was it possible she had spent such a short amount of time nursing him back to health, and yet she felt as if she had always known him? Why could she not bear the thought of never seeing him again?
She shook her head, as if so doing, she could dislodge the troublesome thoughts which had taken up residence in her stubborn mind. But that wasn’t so. They were there. Gavin Winter was there. So, too, the memory of his lips on hers.
“Jasper has not seen fit to enlighten me.” And that still rankled, Caro could not deny it. “He claims he has a purpose but that I must trust him and remember my loyalty is as a Sutton first.”
“Aye, and so it is,” Pen agreed. “You can trust me, Caro. I’ll not tell a soul Gavin Winter is here.”
“Stop saying his name,” she muttered, for hearing it aloud brought a creeping sense of fear.
Fear that someone would overhear. Fear that whoever it was who had attacked Gavin and left him for dead would return. But that this time, the monsters would not stop until they succeeded.
“What shall I call him, then?”
What indeed?
“The patient,” she suggested.
“The patient,” Pen repeated, a skeptical note in her voice.
Frustration bit at her. “Have you a better suggestion?”
Pen sighed. “I suppose not. The patient shall have to do.”
“Do not tell Lord Aidan,” Caro said next.
