He glanced her over as he dismounted, his movements careful. “Go inside, Vi, it’s freezing.”
“I’ve been awake half the night waiting for you. I am not going to simply—”
Even in the dim light of the candle, he pierced her with a look that brokered no argument. “Go inside. I shall join you just as soon as I’ve stabled my horse.”
Opening her mouth then closing it, Violet gave a slight nod. He was hardly going to dash off again was he? She might as well wait in the relative warmth of the house.
When he entered the hallway, Violet lifted the candle to eye the sorry state of him. A breath caught in her throat when she noted the blood under his nose.
“Don’t worry. It’s not broken.”
“What happened?” she demanded.
“I could do with something cold. Some damp cloths too perhaps.”
She issued a frustrated breath. Whatever was going on with him, she did not like it, but she could tell she was not going to get answers by demanding them. Duke needed tending to. Maybe after some gentle care, he would open up about why he had vanished.
“Let us go down to the kitchen,” she suggested. “Perhaps it’s cold enough that there is some ice that has yet to melt.”
Violet set about lighting enough lamps that she could see the true damage. None of it looked permanent, thankfully. His nose, as promised, was not broken, just bloodied and swollen, and he moved gingerly as she pulled out a chair from behind the large table in the center of the room and motioned for him to sit.
With deliberate efficiency, she found some cloths and salve, and poured a bowl of water then set them upon the table.
“No ice to be found,” she informed him after searching the pantry. “You shall have to wait until they bring some in from the icehouse tomorrow.”
“By then there will be no point. It is worse—” Duke sucked in a breath through his teeth when she dabbed his face with a cloth “—than it looks.”
“What were you thinking?” she muttered while she pressed a hand to his chin and lifted his head this way and that to eye his injuries.
Letting go of his roughened jaw, she dabbed the blood away from his upper lip. Violet fought the desire to press kisses to the cuts. Nothing good would come of it. Caring for Duke was already becoming painful. If she let herself, she feared it really would consume her and turn into something deeper than mere desire.
Falling for Marmaduke Cameron would be the most idiotic thing she had ever done since letting Thomas Mackenzie kiss her. It would be far more humiliating than a few boys chanting that she kissed like a fish too. She could be ruined or worse…heartbroken.
Duke never stayed with one woman long. Why did she believe she was any different?
A strained smile in place, she finished cleaning away the grime and blood from his face and opened the tub of salve. She slathered generous amounts on Duke’s cuts and bruises, and he let her, surprising her with his malleability. However, the darkness remained in his expression as he stared sightlessly behind her. She glanced down to spy blanched knuckles.
“Where else are you hurt?” She recalled the arm banded around his waist.
“Vi…”
“Take your shirt off.”
Two dark eyebrows rose but he started work on this simple brown waistcoat with a groan. She batted his hands away and aided him. She’d never undressed a man before. The buttons were odd and alien to her fingers though they were not much different to the ones on several of her garments.
Duke’s breaths brushed her hair as she bent to undo the bottom few buttons. Every part of her blazed with awareness. The spark inside her began to heat. No matter how she tried to distract herself with thoughts of the mundane, she feared it was burning brighter, lying in wait to singe its way through her body. She helped him shuck it aside then hung it over the back of a chair.
It might have been only seconds, but it felt like she’d been drawing up the courage to remove his shirt for hours, and his gaze never strayed from her. Even when she didn’t look directly at him, she saw him skim his gaze over her again and again. Her breaths thickened.
Violet started on the laces. She’d already seen his chest. What did it matter if she saw it again? Who cared if she had never forgotten the sight of him half-naked? It was only skin and muscle.
Violet finished unfastening the laces and paused when she felt a tug on her skirt. He had the fabric clutched tight in his free hand. Either he was in pain...
Or he felt the same as she. That he might not survive the night intact if she touched his body.
No. She could do this. She needed prove to herself that she was nothing more than his friend, aiding him in a time of need. Pushing the shirt from his shoulders, she gritted her teeth at the sight of bunched muscles marred with several red marks and paused to stare at the ripples of his abdomen as they moved with each breath.
“Violet?”