“No,” she replied, but it was already too late.
He rolled off the bed, taking with him all his glorious warmth and his magical mouth.
Beatrice pouted.
“I’ll send for your maid,” he said as he pulled on his boots. “Would you like anything? Tea? Some broth?”
“I’d like some tea,” she replied. She squinted at the window, but the curtains were pulled. “What time is it?”
“Almost night,” he said. “You’ve slept all day.”
“Did I?” How strange to remember morning and then nothing at all until after dark. The thought jogged her brain. “You were hurt!”
He turned to look at her. “What?”
“Your arm. I saw one of the men cut your arm.”
“This?” He pushed back the sleeve of his coat to reveal a torn and rust-stained shirt.
“Yes, that!” She was struggling to sit up now. “Why haven’t you had it seen to?”
He pressed her gently back down. “Because it isn’t of any concern.”
“Maybe not for you—”
“Hush.” His gaze was quite fierce. “You’ve had a stressful day, and your wound must ache. Rest now and I’ll come and see you when you’re properly attired.”
He strode from the room masterfully.
Properly attired? Beatrice frowned and only then realized that she hadn’t a stitch of clothing on under the covers.
Oh, my.
IT WAS AFTER ten by the time Reynaud got to Vale’s house and started banging on the door. Too early for Vale to have returned if he was out at a social event, too late for him to be receiving if he was spending a rare evening at home. Reynaud banged anyway. Vale was his only ally as far as he could see, and at the moment he needed an ally.
The door opened to reveal the face of a disapproving butler, whose expression modified only a little when he saw it was a gentleman knocking.
“Sir?”
Reynaud shouldered past the man. Damned if he’d stand on the step like a beggar. “Is the viscount home?”
The butler’s brows lowered. “Lord and Lady Vale are not receiving this evening. Perhaps if you—”
“I’m not coming back tomorrow,” Reynaud interrupted. “Either you go rouse him from wherever he is, or I’ll get him myself.”
The butler drew himself up and sniffed. “If you’ll wait in the sitting room, my lord.”
Reynaud stalked into the indicated room and spent the next ten minutes pacing from one end to the other. He was just about to give it up and go find Vale himself when the door opened.
Vale strolled in, yawning and wrapping a banyan about his middle. “Much as I’m glad that you’ve returned from the dead, old man, I really must insist that I reserve my evenings at home for my wife.”
“This is important.”
“So is marital harmony.” Vale went to a tray with a decanter and glasses. He held up the bottle. “Brandy?”
“Beatrice was stabbed this morning.”
Vale paused, decanter still in his hand. “Beatrice?”