Truly a Wife (Free Fellows League 4)
Ned provided directions as Miranda made her way toward the stairs at the center of the house. “There are two guest chambers on the right and two on the left,” he said as she left the second-floor landing and headed down the hall.
Although she owned the house, Miranda had never been inside it. But Ned, as head footman, had been inside it many times over the past six months, overseeing the maintenance.
Miranda walked past the guest chambers and headed for the door at the end of the passageway.
Ned gave a slight shake
of his head. “That’s the main bedchamber,” he told her.
“I surmised as much,” Miranda replied, opening the door. “My hus … His Grace is a duke. And as such, he’s entitled to the best bedchamber in the house.”
“But, milady, I think the duke would be more comfortable elsewhere …”
“Is there a larger, better bedchamber elsewhere?”
Ned hesitated a moment before replying. “No, milady, it’s the most modern and the best-equipped.”
“Then he shall have the best.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Besides, he’s taller and he’s indisposed.”
“Whatever you say, milady.” Ned waited until Miranda lit the bedside lamp, moved a pile of tapestry pillows out of the way, and flipped back the coverlet before depositing the Duke of Sussex on the bed. Ned was as gentle as he could possibly be, but Daniel moaned as he sank into the depths of the soft feather mattresses.
The room was cold, and Miranda shivered involuntarily as she removed Daniel’s shoes and set them on the floor beneath the bed. She untied the tapes of his stockings and was about to peel them down his legs when Ned cleared his throat.
“If you’ll wait outside, milady, I’ll see that His Grace is settled comfortably into bed and build a fire.”
Miranda took a step toward the door, then remembered Daniel’s wound. Ned had seen the blood on her gown and gloves, and knew the duke was foxed and feverish and that he was sporting injured ribs, but he didn’t know the nature of the injury, and although Miranda trusted her footman, she wasn’t certain Daniel would approve of Ned knowing that his aching ribs were the result of having been shot. “Build the fire,” she instructed. “I’ll see His Grace is settled comfortably into bed.”
Ned arched an eyebrow in disapproval as he walked over to the fireplace and lit the tinder beneath the bed of coals.
“You needn’t worry about protecting my delicate sensibilities. We’re married.” Miranda unbuttoned her gloves, tugged them off, and laid them on the night table alongside her reticule. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t seen a naked man before,” she reminded her footman. “I did help my mother take care of my father.”
“Your father was an old man, milady,” Ned replied. “His Grace is not.”
“What difference does that make?” she demanded. “The anatomy is the same.”
Ned stood up and brushed his hands free of dust. “I think it may make a great deal of difference to His Grace.”
“Then I shall face that bridge when I come to it,” Miranda pronounced, retrieving her reticule from the night table.
“If you’re certain, milady.”
Miranda drew in a deep breath. “I am. Thank you, Ned. You and Rupert are free to return home and retire for the night.”
“But, milady, we cannot leave you here alone,” Ned protested.
“I’m not alone,” Miranda reminded him. Opening her reticule, she withdrew two gold guineas and handed them to her footman. “For you and Rupert.”
“Thank you, miss … I mean, ma’am … but …”
“Don’t worry, Ned. His Grace is here.” She smiled at her footman, then glanced at the seven-day clock on the mantel and saw that the time had been set and that it was ticking. “Is that the correct time?”
Ned nodded. “I set it myself yesterday.”
“Then go home and get some sleep. You’ve been at my beck and call far too long.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Miranda stopped him. “I’ll need you later this morning after I’ve checked the larder and prepared a shopping list.”
“I can stay and do that, miss …”
“I’m perfectly safe. His Grace is my husband and an absolute gentleman.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Besides, he’s in no condition to tangle with me. My mother will be worried. I need you to deliver a message to her.”