Page 407 of From Rakes to Riches

“My, you’re very strong.”

“Thank you.”

She stared up into his face, so near to hers. “But you should be careful. I’m cursed where horses are concerned.”

His foot seemed to slip out from beneath him, and she cried out and flung her arms around his neck. That left their cheeks pressed together, and she could smell the scent of his hair, feel its soft texture.

“I did that deliberately,” he murmured.

She felt the vibration of his voice in his chest.

“I guess that wasn’t very nice of me,” he continued.

“I didn’t mind,” she whispered.

She wanted him to turn his face, to kiss her. But he suddenly seemed uncomfortable with their playful behavior because he set her on her feet and stepped back.

“I should be going,” he said. “We’ll get you on a horse again soon.”

“Thank you, David.”

The moment ended awkwardly, but Victoria was buoyed on a feeling of hope.

That afternoon,Mrs. Wayneflete informed Victoria in a hushed voice that the earl had had a spell of breathing problems but was now resting comfortably in bed. Victoria went to his suite, and Nurse Carter invited her in.

Lord Banstead lay in his enormous bed, looking thin and frail. His chest rose and fell reassuringly.

“How is he?” Victoria asked in a soft voice.

Before the nurse could answer, the earl said, “The hearing hasn’t gone yet.”

Victoria gave a little jump, and Nurse Carter shrugged apologetically.

“Speak to me and not the servants,” the earl continued.

“Of course, my lord.” Victoria walked to the bed. “And how are you feeling?”

“None of your business.” He turned his head away from her and kept his eyes closed. “You can leave now. Go back to that piano—you never seem to tire of it.”

“You can hear me play, my lord?”

“The music room is right over my head, you silly girl.”

She never had been good at understanding the layout of a house. “Forgive me, my lord. I won’t bother you like that again.”

He opened one eye and looked at her. “Never said it was a bother. Tried for years to get my son to play.”

She subdued her eagerness as she took the chair beside his bed. “I saw all those instruments in the music room. Lord Thurlow didn’t enjoy it?”

“He was terrible. At every instrument. Never much for giving it a decent try. Did far too much writing than was good for a boy.”

Writing?she thought, feeling gooseflesh prickle across her arms. Writing to her?

“But you play quite naturally,” the earl said.

Victoria could only stare at him in shock. He was positively chatty today, and after suffering a dangerous attack.

“Thank you, my lord.”

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