The Wyndham Legacy (Legacy 1)

He ripped off the hem of her petticoat, wet it, and wiped her face. He carried her to the shade of a maple tree, eased down and pulled her back against him, settling her between his legs. “Hold still. Is your belly settling now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You feel weak and shaky. It’s understandable. Just lie against me and keep quiet for a while. I’m tired of your damned protestations.”

She didn’t remember protesting anything. She closed her eyes.

He felt her ease, heard her breathing slow and deepen. He stared over the top of her head to the stream then beyond it, realized he wasn’t seeing anything at all, and tightened his hold around her, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree. It was warm. Bees buzzed about. He could hear larks singing.

He heard a cow mooing in the distance. Stanley was eating water reeds not many feet away, chewing noisily. He closed his eyes. When he awoke, the sun had moved a goodly distance toward the west. He must have twitched upon awakening, for she was now awake too.

“Don’t move. First tell me how you feel.”

“I’m fine now, truly. Thank you for helping me, Marcus.”

“I saw you leaving the house and I followed you. Why the devil didn’t you at least ride Birdie?”

“The stable lads would have told you immediately. Lambkin would probably have refused to saddle her.”

“You have done this before today?”

“Yes, for over a week now. I want to find that oak tree with the well beneath it. It should be near the abbey, but I couldn’t find it. But it must be around here, Marcus, someplace close. I’ve been so frustrated.”

Very slowly, he lifted her onto his thighs and turned her to face him. “Listen to me. Hasn’t it occurred to you that the person who struck you down in the library just might be interested in striking you down again?”

“Why? The person saw that book and I was in the way. I was struck only because of the book, Marcus.”

“You can’t possibly know that. Now, we’re going back to the Park. No, don’t try to move yourself. I’ll carry you.”

As he walked to Stanley, who was chewing vigorously, and ignored them, he said, “Are you still having headaches as well as belly nausea?”

“No, and I haven’t felt ill before today, I promise you. It is odd.”

“You will climb into your bed when we get home. No, don’t stiffen up like a frightened virgin or draw in your breath to scream at me for my interference like a Milanese soprano. I have no intention of climbing into your bed beside you. I will come to you tonight though, so don’t go haring off to another bedchamber. If you do, I’ll search you out and I won’t be pleased with you. Another thing, there will be no more lying there, wishing me dead or impotent, which would be worse.”

“Why don’t you just go back to London? To Celeste? Or you could have Lisette come to you here.”

“Yes, I could, couldn’t I?”

“You could try it,” she said, chin up, eyes lighting for battle, for the nausea was gone now, thank God. “I wonder if you would be so stupid.”

His eyes glinted and he was slavering to goad her but good, saying in a drawl that could match Trevor’s, it was so slow and taunting in its slowness, “Do I take it that you are threatening me, woman? Are you saying that you would gullet me if I touch another woman?”

“Right now I am saying that you would be very sorry if you brought one of your women here. If you touched another woman—I will think about that and let you know. I believe a man should understand his options.”

She said not another word, but she was smiling, curse those mysterious eyes of hers. He insisted on carrying her through the entrance hall for all to see, then upstairs to her bedchamber, where he made a grand production of seeing to her care.

21

“I WISH YOU WOULD lose all your hair.”

“Huh? What did you say??

? His hold around her tightened.

“I said,” the Duchess said sweetly, smiling at him, “that I wished you would call for a chair. Surely you’re uncomfortable just standing there like that.”

He grinned down at her. “That wasn’t bad, but you’re no competition for Aunt Wilhelmina. Perhaps you simply haven’t any talent for well-turned rhymes.”