Page 66 of An Unexpected Pleasure

A hand stroked over her cheek, then picked up her arm and began to chafe her wrist. Megan realized that her head was throbbing violently. She let out a groan.

“I think she’s coming ’round,” said another voice, feminine, this time. A breeze touched her face, cooling her.

The masculine voice once again said her name, adding, “Wake up.”

“What happened to her?”

“Why is she here?”

Those were two more women’s voices.

And now a man said, “You know, if any of the women of my family were proper ladies, you would have smelling salts about you.”

Megan wondered how many people were here. And what were they doing around her bed?

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Theo was beside her on one knee, holding her hand in one of his, his other hand around her wrist, and he was looking down at her, frowning.

“Thank God!” he exclaimed, adding unnecessarily, “She’s awake.”

Megan blinked and looked cautiously around. She was not lying in her bed at all, but on the hard floor in some hallway. The duchess and Kyria were standing behind Theo, and most of the other Morelands were grouped around her, as well, all staring down at her with worried frowns. Anna was bent over her beside Theo, wielding her fan so that the air cooled Megan’s face. The odd woman in the red wig to whom Theo had been talking earlier was standing at her feet, leaning on a cane and peering down suspiciously at Megan.

“What the devil is she doing up here?” the old lady said querulously. “Queer start, I must say.”

“I don’t know, Aunt Hermione,” Theo replied shortly. “I think perhaps she fainted.”

“But what is she doing up here?” the old woman persisted. “There is no one else about.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Megan said, not sure exactly why she felt the need to apologize. Something about the old woman seemed to call for it.

“Lady Rochester,” Rafe said in his molasses-tinged voice, sliding a hand around the old woman’s arm. “It must have been very tiring for you to have climbed these stairs.”

“Yes, you really should not have,” the duchess put in flatly.

“Let me escort you back downstairs and get you a seat. And maybe a nice glass of punch?” Rafe went on smoothly.

“Hmph. Don’t think you can work your way around me, young man,” the old lady groused, but she let him turn her gently around. “I would take a cup of punch. Can’t imagine what the world’s coming to, young women running about fainting all over the place.”

Her voice went on, listing complaints, punctuated by the thud of her cane on the floor, as she and Rafe went down the hall.

“Sorry you had to meet Lady Rochester this way,” Theo said, smiling down at Megan. “Can you sit up?”

“Yes, of course.”

She started to protest as his hand slid under her back to help her, but as she sat up, her head swam. She closed her eyes, sucking in her breath, and it took all her concentration to keep her suddenly pitching stomach from tossing up all its contents.

Theo stopped, his arm around her back, bracing her. “Are you all right?”

Her stomach settled enough for her to breathe, “I—I feel a little ill.”

“Of course you do,” Anna said soothingly, squatting down beside her and wafting the fan.

The breeze it created was cooling, reviving, and after a moment, Megan felt well enough to open her eyes again. “What happened?”

“We were rather hoping you could tell us that,” the duchess told her.

“I found you here,” Theo said. “No one had seen you in quite a while, so I started looking for you. You were nowhere downstairs, so we began a search of the rest of the house. I found you here.”

Megan looked around her, careful not to move her head too suddenly. “Where is here?”