Page 31 of The Lyon’s Paw

“Four or five times a day should do the trick.” The doctor laid out the bandages, then pulled her foot out of the water.

Of course, by this time her flesh was completely numb, so it mattered not at all to Diana, who kept her eyes on Geoffrey.

“Very brave, my dear.” He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.

A sudden warmth shot down her body, completely dispelling the chill of the water.

“Rub the ankle with this liniment, then wrap it with the cloths like this.” The doctor demonstrated, rubbing the oily liquid vigorously until her ankle was tingling. “Your lady’s maid can do this for you, my lady.”

Geoffrey was staring at her leg, which made Diana grow warmer still. “I’d prefer to help her with the soaking and bandaging.” He raised his gaze to her. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“You, my lord?” Mr. Farley’s brows shot up.

“I may seem a useless being, Farley, however I believe I can catch on easily enough.” He shot a glance at Diana. “Do you object, my dear?”

“Not at all, my lord.” Diana’s cheeks heated so much she wished she could stick her head in the bucket of cold water.

“Then we are of an accord. The next cold-water soak should commence around noon, I believe, if we are to be methodical about it.” Geoffrey rose, scooped her up again and headed back to the bed. “As you have not yet breakfasted, I will go down and order a tray sent up for you. Then you should rest until noon.”

“You have not breakfasted either, my lord.” Diana was determined to press her advantage while she could. She stared into Geoffrey’s eyes, so close she could see herself in their dark depths. “You could keep me company and have a tray for yourself brought up too.”

He placed her on the bed and settled the covers over her. “I would like nothing better, my dear.” A brilliant smile crossed his lips. “Come, Mr. Farley, I will see you out. You will return tomorrow to check on the patient?”

“Of course, my lord.” The doctor grabbed his bag and Geoffrey showed him out, leaving Diana alone with her tumultuous thoughts.

If anyone had told her two weeks ago that she would be laughing and talking with Geoffrey Longford as though they were old friends, she would have tried to consign them to Bedlam. Not to mention those strange flutterings and unexpected fits of heat that seemed to come upon her whenever Geoffrey touched her—reactions she had never expected to have to the Toad. But he had changed toward her. Whether only because she had helped him save his sister or hopefully for some other, more personal reason, Geoffrey was no longer the toad from last spring. Even better, now, he even seemed to have a sense of humor about her vile nickname for him.

Of course, she’d obviously changed toward him as well. His confession about why he’d fought to make their marriage happen had shown her, without a doubt, how committed he was to his family. How protective he was toward his sister. An intelligent, witty gentleman, to be sure. And an excellent horseman. Qualities she admired and had been looking for last summer.

Diana slid down beneath the covers, pulling the top one up to her chin. Perhaps she hadn’t done so badly into the bargain that was their marriage.

In fact, if Geoffrey could come to feel as protective of her as he was of his family…if he could come to think of her as family—might their marriage become one of something other than convenience?

That she had come so far in changing her mind about Lord Longford, in such a relatively short period of time, led her to believe she’d been more partial to him all along than she’d admitted to herself. She hoped that might also be the case for him. Perhaps she should find out if kissing the Toad would yield better results all around for both of them.

As Geoffrey sped down the stairs, the doctor at his heels, he had to keep himself from letting out a whoop of pure joy. His wife wished him to breakfast with her. That seemed a clear indication that she was willing to leave their past sins against one another in the past—a sentiment Geoffrey also wished to embrace now that he knew Diana so much better. Her determination this morning to help him keep his sister safe, her devotion to family, her lack of fastidiousness when it came to something as basic as sitting on the ground with him had endeared her to him immeasurably. Then of course, there were her other charms as well—soft, ample charms that had driven him almost mad on the long ride back to the house. His groin tightened at the thought and Geoffrey hurried the doctor out the front door, then turned on his heel and made for the kitchen.

Once the order had been given for trays to be taken to the countess’s apartments, Geoffrey bounded back up the stairs and down the corridor, ostensibly to his chamber, although he slowed down outside his wife’s door, raised his hand to knock, then thought better of it. He needed to have his valet attend to him before Diana saw him again. Toad might be her facetious nickname for him, but that didn’t mean he should look warty.

He continued past her room to his own, right next door, calling for Taylor. “I am breakfasting with Lady Longford in about fifteen minutes, Taylor. I trust you can make me presentable?”

The manservant glanced at him, his knowing eye taking Geoffrey in from top to disheveled bottom, then the skilled valet nodded. “Of course, my lord. There won’t be time for a proper wash, but presentable I can manage.”

“Good man.” Geoffrey surrendered himself into the servant’s capable hands and let his mind wander back to the morning’s surprising events. Although he was sorry for his wife’s injury, he could not help but be grateful for the way it had helped further their relationship. Perhaps adversity had brought out the best in each of them so they could see one another in a different light than before. When they’d married, he’d thought her only difficult and headstrong; now he saw her as plucky, able to meet adversity with a clear head and no-nonsense attitude. Many a young lady would have bemoaned not only the injury to her person but might have wailed more egregiously over the ruin of her gown. His wife had taken the whole misadventure with calm, grace, and fortitude. Characteristics any gentleman would deem advantageous in a wife. A wife he was starting to grow very fond of, indeed.

Taylor pulled a green superfine jacket over his shoulders and plied the clothes brush to the material while Geoffrey wound a snowy white cravat around his neck and tied it in a waterfall knot. He glanced in the mirror and was startled to see two hectic spots on his cheeks. At least his wife wouldn’t know they were indicators of his agitation regarding her. Hopefully his mother and sister hadn’t imparted that information to Diana just yet. A splash of his favorite cologne—a crisp blend of citrus and Bergamot he’d created himself—and he quit the chamber to hurry next door.

He was greeted by the splendid aroma of sausages and warm bread and the equally fine vision of his wife sitting up in bed, smiling as she sipped her tea. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

“Your valet must be commended on working a miracle, my lord.” Diana set her teacup down on the tray in her lap. “You look amazingly well after such a harrowing morning.”

“More harrowing for you than I.” He seized a chair and carried it over beside her. His own tray had been set on a table near the bed. Geoffrey grabbed the plate and cutlery, settling into the seat and balanced his breakfast on his knees. “Shall we begin? You’ve had a shock and must keep up your strength.”

“I assure you, my appetite has not been affected by my ankle.” She speared a sausage, cut off a third of the link, and ate it with gusto, closing her eyes as she chewed. “Mmmm.”

Her action stopped Geoffrey in the act of spearing his own sausage, choosing instead to stare as his wife enjoyed herself. When her pink tongue darted out to capture some of the juices, he had to bite back a groan as his nether regions caught fire again. How could such a little action on her part elicit such a huge response in him? Geoffrey dropped his gaze to his plate and scooped up some eggs instead. He concentrated on eating for several minutes, tearing off a piece of roll, buttering it and popping it in his mouth before daring to look at his wife again.

Diana had spoken the truth about her appetite, for she was clearing her plate in a quick and methodical fashion. The sausage had disappeared, as had the eggs. One bite of roll remained, on which she was slathering butter. She glanced at him, grinned, and wolfed down the bit of bread. “I told you my appetite had not been affected, my lord.”