e ate her small meal and decided there was nothing else to do but go to sleep. If only it had been that easy. The minute she closed her eyes, his face flashed in her mind. She wondered why he wore mostly black. Perhaps he was vain enough to realize that it accentuated his blue eyes, which it did. Still, she didn’t like the man or his aggressive demeanor with her. She forced herself to think about Jonathon.
She fell asleep, dreaming of the man she loved, until shouting from the entryway awakened her.
“Wake her up,” a deep voice demanded as footsteps faded down the hall. “Now!”
Tia sat up in her bed and looked around in confusion. A knock hammered her door a minute later.
“Miss Featherstone, you must wake up.”
She glanced over at the clock on her nightstand. It was barely three in the morning. They couldn’t be leaving for Middleton Hall at this hour. “What is wrong?”
“You must come quickly. His lordship wants you.”
Tia blinked in confusion. Middleton wanted her? “Where is he?”
“In his bedchamber,” the footman replied from behind the closed door. “You mustn’t keep him waiting.”
She had no idea why she couldn’t keep him waiting. Instead of arguing with the servant, Tia grabbed the dressing gown and wrapped it around her. She wished he’d given her a shift to wear under it or she’d had the sense to ask for one.
Tia followed the young man down the hall. There had to be a good reason Middleton would demand her presence at this hour. As she walked into the room, she noticed him lying on his bed with only his trousers on. The footman quietly closed the door as he left.
“Absolutely not,” she exclaimed and turned toward the door.
“Miss Featherstone, get yourself back here this instant.”
Tia stopped. Turning slowly, she faced him. She stepped into his bedroom with her hands on her hips. A tremor of fear slid down her back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he drawled.
“I am returning to my bedroom. If you think for one moment . . .” her voice trailed off as he crooked a finger.
“Come here.”
What was it about the sound of his voice that made her do things she had no desire to do? “I am leaving.” But even as she said that, she moved closer to the bed.
“I did not ask you here to warm my bed.” A slow smile drew his full lips upward. “At least, not right now.”
Tia seemed unable to look away from his mouth. “Th—then why am I here?”
He cocked his head toward his right arm. Seeing the handkerchief with bloodstains, she gasped.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you were injured?” Years of her mother’s training came back to her. “Where is your brandy?”
“You’re going to drink before you stitch me?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Now, where is it?”
He nodded toward the salon. “Corner table. Your bag is in there too.”
Tia strode to the salon, picked up her bag, and then the brandy decanter. She walked back into the room and set to work on him. As she neared him, the smell of cheap perfume, cheap liquor, and cheap cigars overwhelmed her, making her gag. “You are disgusting. Let me guess . . . you were cheating at cards and someone called you out.”
“No.”
“Whoring and cheated her out of her money, so she took a shot at you?”
He chuckled in his low, husky voice. “Hardly.”
“Then how?”