Page 19 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge

It wasn’t an easy thing, getting out of the tub, but they managed. And then the woman saw to dressing her, drying her hair, and putting it up.

“I imagine you feel more like yourself, though it’s been many years since I’ve done a lady’s hair. I’m afraid I don’t have the skills of your lady’s maid.”

“It is lovely. Thank you, Mrs. Garrison.” It was enough that her hair was clean and had been brushed and put up out of the way. After all these days of sitting around, just being upright was a blessing.

But she looked toward the door, assuming she was upstairs while the dining room was likely on the floor below. How was she to get down there? She looked to the housekeeper who was heading for the door.

“Yer welcome, my dear. Now excuse me, I must see to the morning meal,” she said before leaving the room.

Harlow sat in a nearby chair and was contemplating her next move when two swift knocks on the door were followed by its opening by a smiling earl.

“I hear you are ready to come downstairs.”

“Yes,” she answered, thinking he was going to offer his arm and the two of them would make their way to the breakfast room, hopefully before luncheon.

But instead he bent and lifted her into his arms.

“Put me down,” she said in some surprise. It was completely improper being held against his strong body as she was. Not that every minute since she’d arrived hadn’t also been improper, but this was beyond necessity.

“I certainly will,” he said, but instead of doing so he moved through the open door and down the hall. He continued down the stairs and into the room, setting her back on her feet—or rather foot—next to the chair directly to the right of the head of the table.

Belle had followed along but was detoured at the door by one of the footmen.

“There you are. I put you down. Just as ye asked,” Reese said, seeming pleased with himself.

Harlow might have contested his methods, but decided the smells of bacon and toast were more important at the moment. She slid into her seat allowing him to push her closer to the table.

Taking the seat next to her, he picked up his napkin and gave it a snap before settling it over his lap. She did the same only with less exuberance and they were served immediately.

“I thought after we eat you may enjoy a stroll through the garden. It’s a lovely day. Belle could use the exercise, and I daresay you could use some sun now that your megrim has finally relented.”

She agreed easily, focusing on the food. It had only been the last three days that her head had stopped making her nauseous. Her appetite had returned a little more each day, and this morning she was rather ravenous.

She managed to use her cutlery and take small ladylike bites as was proper, but only just so, for she was so famished she wanted to pick up the rasher with her hands and strip it bare, with her teeth.

It was only when her stomach was full that she recalled his plans for the day. A stroll through the garden? Did he think she was going to allow him to carry her through the entire garden?

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I believe a stroll through the garden is beyond me as of yet.”

“Not true.”

She shook her head. “I’ll not be carried all that way.”

“Nay, and I’d not make it to carry you all that way.”

She frowned, knowing there was an insult there, but not willing to pick at it. She was in no way dainty like the young misses in the ballrooms. She preferred to go riding and walking daily. She preferred to be in motion when possible. And she enjoyed cake immensely.

“I might manage with a cane,” she reasoned.

“I’ve sent for something better.” He nodded to one of the footmen who left the room only to return seconds later pushing a wheeled chair.

“Oh,” Harlow managed with a smile. “Where…?”

“I knew my good friend, Granton, had one for his dear sister who passed. I sent a gig to pick it up. It only arrived last evening.”

He assisted her into the chair and wheeled her out onto the terrace. From there he maneuvered a few stone steps to get them down to the path.

For a while the only sound was of the waves crashing and the wheels rolling over the crushed shell walkway. Though she couldn’t see the ocean, she could hear it. She was about to ask when Belle ran ahead chasing after something she spotted in the brush.