Page 13

Keyworth House entry

The opportunistic bounder!

The first time the captain had lifted her, Lenora had been so befuddled, she hadn’t noticed the solid wall of his chest pressing into her or the iron-like grip of his arms beneath her shoulder and thighs.

This time, she was very much aware.

He smelled good too—soap and bayberry and mayhap mint.

A slight shadow covered his angular jaw and neck. From her position, she caught sight of curly black hair peeking from the vee of his shirt. Her body reacted most peculiarly, coming alive as awareness sang along her veins, and her pulse took on a new, accelerated tempo.

Lenora was afraid to meet anyone’s gazes lest they see the wantonness in hers. For surely that was what it must be.

What other explanation was there?

She’d only just met this man—he’s held you in his arms twice. She couldn’t possibly feel anything for him except gratitude.

Perhaps she was concussed after all.

Yes, yes, that explained her irregular reaction.

Keyworth House’s butler, Teeven, a former prizefighter, stood at the entrance. His hawkish eyebrows wrestled with each other above an obviously many times broken nose as he took in the scene.

“Teeven, Doctor Calder should be here shortly.” Untying her stylish bonnet, Celestia hurried up the steps with an alacrity her rounded tummy contradicted.

Teeven’s astute gaze swept over those behind her.

“Please show him to Lenora’s chamber immediately,” Celestia said. “There’s been an accident.”

“So I see, my lady,” he intoned in his gruff voice. He always sounded like he’d gargled nails for breakfast. Landry said it was because he’d taken an almost lethal blow to the throat during a boxing match that permanently damaged his vocal cords.

Glancing behind her as she removed her bonnet, Celestia said, “He’ll also need to examine the Countess of Darlington-Pope and her lady’s maid. They’ll need chambers to refresh themselves and rest in. Please have tea and a light repast brought to them too.”

“Of course, my lady.” Teeven signaled a pair of maids awaiting his direction. One promptly tore upstairs, and the other made directly for the kitchen.

The footmen were assisting Lady Darlington-Pope and her lady’s maid up the entry stairs much more slowly. Looking worse for wear, the aged women leaned heavily upon the solicitous servants’ arms.

“I assure you, Captain Steele, I am quite capable of walking,” Lenora said a bit more tartly than she’d intended to hide her discomfit and chagrin. She detested being the focus of unwanted attention.

And yet you took a stick to two thieves in broad daylight outside a posh establishment.

That was different, she argued to herself. Lady Darlington-Pope required assistance and no one else seemed the least inclined.

“Captain,” she said between her teeth. “I can walk.”

He shifted her in his arms, causing an undefinable sensation to sluice through her.

“We shall let the physician make that determination,” he murmured, effortlessly climbing the stairs behind the others.

“Obstinate man,” she muttered beneath her breath, uncharacteristically cross.

“Only when it comes to you, it seems, Miss Audsley.”

Captain Steele flashed a wide grin as they passed the worried butler and nodded a friendly greeting.

“How do you do?” he asked the flabbergasted majordomo. “I’m Captain Jason Steele of Boston, Massachusetts.” He indicated Lenora with a dip of his angular chin. “There was a robbery.”

“I…see.” Teeven blinked several times before clearing his throat. “I am well, Captain Steele.” Recovering from his shock, the servant swept a troubled glance over Lenora, lingering on the bloody bandage encasing her head. “You are injured, miss?”