One Night with a Regency Lord: Reprobate Lord, Runaway Lady / The Return of Lord Conistone. Isabelle Goddard
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‘You’re still here,’ he murmured.
She bent over him, gently arranging the pillows to support his shoulders. He was sharply aware of her soft warmth so close to him and her fragrance drifting on the air.
‘Take some of this excellent broth Mrs Skinner has made for you. You haven’t eaten for days.’
He gave up the challenge of trying to make sense of the world and meekly sipped from the spoon she held out to him.
A few days later he was well enough to leave the stuffy bedchamber and make his way with Will’s help down the stairs to the inn garden. Amelie brought up the rear of the procession with a stool and blankets in case it was chilly. But the sun shone blithely from a cloudless blue sky and Gareth, his ankle supported by the stool, lay back in his chair and gratefully soaked up the warmth. Beside him Amelie savoured the perfume of apple blossom and the rich smell of new grass.
He looked disparagingly at the glass she handed him.
‘The doctor said you should drink as much milk as you can,’ she chided. ‘It will help you regain your strength.’
‘You need strength to drink the stuff,’ he protested. ‘I think I’ll settle for my present state of health.’
‘You’re a stubborn man.’
‘And you’re a stubborn woman. Why are you still here? I seem to remember sending you on your way.’
‘You did and more than once—but it would be strange behaviour for a sister to abandon her brother.’
‘Ah, yes, I’d forgotten that I’d acquired a new relative. Quite a surprise for me—though entirely beneficial.’
His blue eyes held the warm glow that she found so unsettling, but instinctively she returned his smile.
‘It can’t have been pleasant for you, forced to tend a sick man you barely knew and with no help from that bracket-faced termagant.’
She wanted to say that she knew him a great deal better now, but instead limited herself to murmuring neutrally, ‘Even less pleasant for you, I fear. But Mr Skinner has been so very helpful. He’s watched over you constantly and even persuaded his wife to cook for us.’
‘Has she been very tiresome?’
‘Shall we say she’s not best pleased to be entertaining two vagrants.’ Amelie grinned, remembering the skirmishes she’d endured while Gareth lay helpless above.
‘One thing does occur to me,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘The Skinners must be wondering why no one has come from our supposed home to look for us.’
‘I told them that I’d sent the local carrier with a message when he passed here the day before yesterday.’
‘And they believed you?’
‘Mrs Skinner probably didn’t, but then she wouldn’t believe anything. She decided from the outset that we were impostors, and of course she’s right.’
For a moment he was startled, wondering how she could possibly have guessed that he was not the man he appeared.
‘I mean,’ she explained seeing the surprise on his face, ‘that we’re playing this charade of being brother and sister.’ She looked at him enquiringly. ‘Do you have a sister, in fact?’
‘No.’
‘Do you have any family—won’t they be wondering where you are?’
‘No and no,’ he said shortly, then added in a more conciliatory tone, ‘My only relation was my grandfather and he’s now dead.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The compassion in her voice touched him on the raw.
‘Don’t be,’ he said roughly, ‘it’s a matter of indifference to me.’
But she was not to be deterred. ‘If you have no family in Bristol, why do you want to go there?’
He shifted his position, but remained sitting in silence.
‘While you were suffering from the fever you mentioned taking a boat and escaping,’ she persevered. ‘What did you mean?’
‘I’ve no idea. When people are feverish, they talk a lot of nonsense,’ he retorted.
She had the distinct impression of an iron gate being swiftly clanged shut; she would learn no more. And in a trice he’d deftly turned the tables on her and begun to probe her own story.
‘And why were you determined on travelling to Bristol?’
He must know that she’d been less than honest with him, at the very least that she’d lied about her destination.
‘A family there are advertising for a lady’s maid and I intended to apply for the position.’
‘They must have advertised days ago. The situation might already be filled.’ He’d evidently decided to maintain the pretence.
‘I daresay you’re right,’ she replied airily. ‘They’re sure to have hired another girl by now.’
‘So when you get to Bristol, what will you do?’
‘I think,’ she said carefully, ‘I shall try my luck in Bath. There’s any number of retired dowagers living there and one of them is bound to need assistance.’
‘I wish you luck. Would you like a testimonial from me?’ he joked. Then his face took on a more serious air.‘Without a reference from your previous family, you’ll find it difficult to get work.’
‘I shall manage. I’ve no reason to feel ashamed. I shall tell the truth about why I had to leave.’
‘Will they believe you, though? As an employer I might find it difficult to accept your situation was so desperate that you had to climb out of the window on knotted sheets. Things like that only happen in novels. If you’d simply told your mistress what her son was up to, she would have intervened.’
‘No, she wouldn’t. He’s spoilt and pampered and no one gainsays him, least of all his adoring mother. She’d never have believed me. She’d have accused me of plotting to ensnare him and I’d have been turned off without notice.’
‘How has your situation improved? You’re still without a job and still without references.’
‘But I haven’t had to endure lies and false accusations.’