Princess Charming (Legendary Lovers 1)

Their good-natured squabbling brought a faint smile to Maura’s lips, but Skye quickly intervened. “Hush, you two! I want Maura to tell us what happened this morning. We heard from our servants about Deering’s treacherous ambush, but nothing since then. Why was the duel canceled?”

Maura told them in detail, recounting how Ash had skillfully compelled Deering’s admission of guilt and the conditions under which his dishonor would remain concealed from the Beau Monde. At her conclusion, Katharine and Skye both hugged her happily, after which Jack demanded an embrace also.

With reluctant amusement, Maura complied, then thanked all the Wildes profusely for helping to remove the ugly stain on her father’s memory. When she asked about the groom with the head wound, Katharine said the lad was resting quietly after being tended and bandaged by their physician and was expected to make a full recovery.

Maura didn’t doubt that after the carriage house battle, Katharine had taken charge as mistress of the manor to bring order out of chaos and see to the injured. Kate now assumed her frequent mother-hen role with Maura.

“Do sit down and eat with us, dearest. I’ll wager you skipped breakfast and are famished.”

Maura’s appetite was entirely nonexistent, however, even though she hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday’s dinner. “Thank you, but I would rather go upstairs to my bedchamber and repair my dishevelment.” Not only did she need to wash and change her clothes and tame her unpinned hair, but she knew she would be terrible company in her present dismal mood.

“Then I will send up a tray for you,” Katharine said, linking their arms in a sisterly fashion. She accompanied Maura out into the corridor, where she made use of their relative privacy to resume her favorite theme of late.

“So now that your father’s reputation will be restored, Maura, you will surely proceed with wedding Ash, won’t you?”

Loath to be drawn into a discussion about her dubious matrimonial prospects, Maura responded with a pained smile and parried the question. “The matter is still unsettled,” she murmured, before kissing her friend’s cheek and excusing herself.

Yet as she trudged up to her bedchamber, her agitated thoughts remained fixed on that very quandary, like a tongue probing a sore tooth. She badly wanted to delay facing Ash, but perhaps she had best get it over with at once, to learn her fate and end this torturous uncertainty.

When she spoke to Ash, she would dispassionately release him f

rom any further obligation toward her and state her plans to return home to Suffolk, then judge his reaction. If he put up no resistance, she would not break down in tears, Maura vowed. She couldn’t let her pitiful emotions override her resolve. Nor could she make Ash feel guilty about ending their association. She had to be strong and do the honorable thing.

She would force herself to smile and accept whatever decision he made regarding their future together.

Even so, Maura wondered how she would endure it if he decided their affair was over, for the loneliness and hurt would be unbearable.

She did not have long to wait, since Ash returned by late morning. Maura had planted herself in the front parlor to watch for Lord Traherne’s carriage, and as soon as she heard Ash being admitted to the entrance hall, she went to greet him.

She was keenly aware of the dread squeezing her chest, but one look at the worsening cuts and bruises on his face and knuckles drove all thoughts of a confrontation from her mind.

“You should let me tend those scrapes,” she said urgently.

Ash seemed surprised by her offer. “You are a woman of many talents, love, but I didn’t realize you were skilled as a medic.”

“I have cared for plenty of wounded horses in my time.”

A gleam of amusement lit his eyes. “Should I be flattered that you are comparing me to a horse?”

Maura ignored his levity. “Where are your medical supplies?”

“Our housekeeper has a store of salves and bandages in her office.”

Maura asked the footman on duty in the hall to fetch a basin of warm water from the kitchens. Then she accompanied Ash to the housekeeper’s office, where she proceeded to gather the supplies she would need to patch up his injuries.

Once the basin was delivered and the footman dismissed, she ordered Ash to sit down in a wooden chair while she worked. She cleaned his wounds with soap and water and applied basilicum ointment, ministrations which he bore without protest. When she dabbed a damp cloth at the deep cut above his eyebrow, however, he winced reflexively.

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” she apologized sincerely.

“It is no matter. My chest pains me more, to be truthful.”

“From the blows you took to your torso? Let me see.”

After a slight hesitation, Ash opened his coat and waistcoat, then gingerly raised his shirt to bare his chest.

Seeing that his ribs were covered with brown and purple splotches, Maura bit her lower lip in sympathy.

“I will survive,” Ash claimed, watching her. “I’ve suffered much worse brawling with Jack and Quinn during our salad days.”