Sighing, Violet let her shoulders drop. “Very well. Lie down then.”
“Lie down?”
“I’ll help you.”
He eyed her for a few moments. “You’re going to wash me?”
She resisted the need to sigh again. She’d uttered the words without really thinking. What did she know of washing men? Though, it could not be much different from washing herself surely? She looked over the hard planes of his body.
Very well, perhaps it would be quite different, but she was Violet Musgrave—she didn’t cow from things that scared her.
Chin lifted, she met his nonplussed stare. “If it means you do not injure yourself further then yes.Iam going to wash you.”
∞∞∞
It was a fine job Duke hadn’t touched laudanum in days. He’d be wondering if he was hallucinating otherwise. Violet Musgrave, the daughter of an earl no less and one of his dearest friends wanted to wash him?
He studied the determined point of her chin and inhaled slowly, suppressing a wince when his ribs panged in protest. He’d been lying around too damned long. The past two days he’d drifted in and out of sleep, but he arose with the dawn this morning and a mere few hours of bedrest had him agitated beyond belief. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent so long doing nothing. If he wasn’t attending a ball or a dinner party or even spending time at White’s, he was working.
Or he was, admittedly, in the warm embrace of a woman...
Even admitting that to himself in Violet’s presence felt odd. He didn’t want to think about the times spent in bed with women he barely knew when he was around Violet.
Anyway, his point was, he never did simply nothing and it was driving him to the edge of insanity.
That was why he hobbled back to bed even while uttering, “I do not think this is a good idea.”
He clenched his teeth together and climbed onto the soft mattress while she shadowed his steps. He didn’t believe it was even his ribs causing the most pain at this point but the various bruises where the bastards struck him with fists and feet that were making his body cease up. A map of marks and dark smudges, he scarcely recognized himself in the long mirror in the corner of the room.
“And trying to bathe yourself whilst in such a state was a better idea?” She lifted the blue porcelain wash bowl in both hands and placed it on the table at his bedside then retrieved the washcloth.
He watched her every move. At any moment, she’d change her mind. She’d throw down the cloth and walk away. Maybe Violet would even get close to dabbing the wet fabric upon him, but she’d shy away. She might be no awkward wallflower, but he knew Violet and he knew her experience with men was limited to mild flirtation and endless dances.
Too many dances. The damned woman’s dance card was always full. He could scarcely snare a dance with her unless he fought his way through an army of men to get to her side. Imagine how riddled with envy those men would be that he was about to be washed by Lady Violet Musgrave.
Her throat bobbed and he smirked then spread his arms upon the pillows.
A brow lifted. “I thought you did not wish me to do this.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I think it’s an excellent idea.”
Her gaze narrowed, though she didn’t say anything as she dunked the cloth into the water, barely wrung it out then slapped the wet cloth upon his chest.
“Damn, Vi!”
“Do not curse. You know Mama hates cursing in her house.”
“That’s bloody cold.”
She shook her head. “That’s another curse word.”
“Did you forget that I am gravely injured?” He motioned up and down himself.
“Then perhaps you should act it. You know there is no sense in trying to charm me, especially when you are in such a condition.”
“I have barely seen anyone except maids, and your sisters for two days. I have to charmsomeone.”
“Duke, you are in no fit state to even worry about charming people.” She shook her head and perched on the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip slightly. “You came here to rest, and your charms are entirely wasted upon me, you know that.”