The Homeless Heiress. Anne Herries

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his head at her. ‘It isn’t fitting for a young lady to be in a gentleman’s bedchamber.’

      ‘Who will know?’ Georgie asked and grinned. ‘I shan’t tell if you don’t.’

      He tipped his head to one side, considering her. ‘Who are you, miss? I’d swear you were a lady if I didn’t know he found you on the streets.’

      ‘My name is Georgina, but I can’t tell you any more than that,’ she said. ‘I ran away from…where I was, because something terrible would have happened if I hadn’t.’

      Henderson gave her a look of disbelief. ‘Are you sure you’re telling me the truth?’

      ‘I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t.’

      ‘The captain will want to know when he’s himself again.’

      Georgie looked at their patient. ‘I want to trust him, but I am afraid he might not believe me.’

      ‘If you tell him the truth, he will help you.’

      ‘Will he?’

      Henderson looked at her hard. ‘You will have to trust someone eventually—and he is the one who can help you.’

      ‘Yes, I know. I will try, honestly, I will—and could you please call me Georgie? I don’t want anyone outside this house to know I’m a girl.’

      ‘They’ve only to see your hair,’ Henderson told her. ‘I shan’t betray you, but you must be very careful.’

      Georgie agreed that she would and he went away to have his breakfast. She stood watching over their patient for a while; he seemed to be resting more easily. She bent to stroke his hair from his forehead, smiling at him as he murmured in his sleep, and then she leaned down to kiss him lightly on the cheek. His eyelids flickered, which made her back away hastily. She wandered over to the window, where she discovered a rather battered-looking chess set on a little table near the window. She began to set out the pieces and had just finished placing them when Henderson returned. He smiled as he saw what she had done and came over to the table.

      ‘We played this many an evening during the campaign,’ he told her. ‘There wasn’t much else to do, miss.’

      ‘Shall we play a game?’ Georgie suggested. ‘I used to play with my father, but I haven’t played for ages. I’ll take white and you have black.’

      ‘Yes, if you wish,’ Henderson agreed and moved a piece for his opening gambit.

      Georgie moved a pawn to block him and battle was joined. She gave a chuckle of delight as he removed her first piece, for it was obvious that he was a worthy opponent and she need not fear to play her best game. Neither of them noticed when the man in the bed opened his eyes.

      Richard lay with his head resting against the pillows for some seconds before he became aware that he was not alone in the room. He was at first conscious only of the throbbing agony in his thigh. There was some soreness in his left shoulder, but it was his thigh that pained him the worst. He could not for a moment think where he was, his pain swirling him back to the battlefield and the agony he had endured from wounds gained there. The girl’s laughter penetrated the fog that held him, making him focus on the two figures near the window.

      It was a few moments before he realised that one of the two was Henderson and the other…was a rather odd-looking urchin dressed in clothes that were far too big for him. He inched his way up against the pillows and the sharp stab of pain cleared his thoughts. No street urchin, but the girl he had brought home the night he was attacked.

      Richard grimaced as he continued to watch them. Her laughter was infectious as she moved her chess pieces with lightning speed and gave a chortle of glee.

      ‘Check!’

      ‘I didn’t see that coming,’ Henderson told her ruefully.

      ‘I am sorry to interrupt your game, but could I have some water?’

      Richard’s words brought their heads round instantly. Somewhere beyond the pain and the need to relieve his thirst, he felt amusement at the guilt reflected in the girl’s face. She got up at once and went swiftly to pour water into a glass.

      ‘Come back to us, have you, sir?’ Henderson said, unperturbed. ‘I thought you were over the worst last night. You gave us all a fright, captain. What happened?’

      ‘I had been somewhere and it was on my way back…’ Richard frowned as he recalled the murderous attack. He had delivered his package to the man who waited for it and returned home. He had had no sense of being followed and the attack was silent and deadly, his assailant stabbing him in the leg viciously and then the shoulder. ‘Rather like you, Henderson, I didn’t see it coming.’

      ‘That’s unusual for you, sir. You hadn’t been drinking?’

      ‘Not sufficiently to lose my awareness. Whoever it was must have been a professional.’

      ‘And good at his work,’ Henderson said. ‘If you hadn’t been so close to home, that thigh wound would have done for you, captain. You almost bled to death.’

      ‘Who patched me up?’

      ‘Mr Henderson,’ Georgie said, bringing him the glass of water. ‘He did everything a doctor could, but much more quickly. We couldn’t wait because you were losing too much blood.’

      Richard’s gaze centred on her face. ‘You didn’t let this rascal help patch me up, Henderson?’

      ‘Georgie was very good. She has helped me look after you, captain. She didn’t flinch at the sight of blood. I should have been hard put to it to manage without her.’

      ‘So you know she is a girl?’ Richard sipped the water she offered, his hand closing over hers as she held the glass to his lips. He drank a little and then nodded. ‘Thank you, that is enough.’ He sighed and lay back against the pillows, his eyes closing as he felt a shaft of pain. Georgie started to move away, but his hand came out, gripping her wrist with surprising strength. ‘Where did you get those ridiculous clothes?’

      ‘Henderson gave them to me. I think they belong to you.’

      ‘Indeed?’ His eyes opened once more. He looked at his manservant, who nodded. ‘We must buy her something suitable. Perhaps Mrs Jensen will know.’

      ‘I can’t stay here dressed as a girl,’ Georgie said. ‘I don’t mind wearing your things.’

      ‘Get her something that fits her, Henderson,’ Richard said. ‘If she is determined to keep up the masquerade, make it a youth’s clothing.’

      ‘Yes, sir, I’ll do that,’ Henderson said. ‘Frederick has a young brother. I’ll ask him to buy a few things.’

      ‘Yes, do that…’ Richard sighed and closed his eyes. The girl was a problem he could have done without at this particular time, but she had made herself useful. Besides, he just did not have the energy to deal with her for the moment. ‘I need to rest…’

      He was vaguely aware of some whispering going on, but the strange tiredness was creeping over his body and he was slipping

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