Page 34 of In Need of a Duke
Another spike of fear pulsed through her.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
Susan. Her lady’s maid voice. But it seemed so far away.
“You’ve had an accident. You are back at Stonehurst and are recovering.”
Finally, Charlotte opened her eyes. Susan stood beside her with a tray and a damp rag. She placed the tray down and wrung out the cloth, then placed it on Charlotte’s forehead.
She attempted to talk, but her mouth was far too dry. She licked her lips and searched for water. Susan helped her drink a small sip of water before Charlotte fell back on the pillow.
Wait…
She wasn’t alone.
It wasn’t only Susan here, waiting.
This wasn’t her bed, and she wasn’t in her room.
She shook her head, the words stuck in her throat. She didn’t wish to face him, couldn’t begin to explain…
“Lottie!” Nathaniel exclaimed, walking in with a book tucked in his arm. “Welcome back. What a scare you gave us.”
“Us?” she croaked.
She moved her head slightly, surveying the duke’s shadow on the opposite side of the bed. He leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands together. Maybe it was because everything was still blurry before her, but he looked terrible.
Her heart squeezed.
She was certain she hated him.
Charlotte couldn’t look at him fully, instead closing her eyes and swallowing. Everything ached, and there was a terrible throbbing behind her eyes.
“What’s happened?” she asked at last.
Susan cleared her throat, then excused herself, leaving Charlotte with the duke and Nathaniel.
The duke’s brother smiled, then backed away toward the door. Charlotte tried to reach for him, afraid to be left alone with her husband.
“Brother, tell her, and then you should finally have some rest. I will be back later to see if you need anything, Lottie.”
The room fell silent, yet Charlotte could feel his stare burning into her.
“Tell me what?” She squeezed the sheets and glanced up at the ceiling mural of angels playing among the clouds. It seemed a rather odd choice for such a cold-hearted man.
“It’s been nearly a week,” he said, clearing his throat. He remained still.
A week? She had been in this bed for a week?
Charlotte pressed her face against the pillow to turn and see him better. It hurt far too much to roll onto her side.
“You heard me riding after you and attempted to jump the wall.You were thrown from your horse and tumbled into the river. You suffered from a dislocated shoulder, bruised ribs, and have a nasty cut on your head that became infected. They suspect you have pneumonia now from the water which entered your lungs in the river.” With another shaky breath, he reached up and rubbed his eyes. “It will be a long recovery.”
She shouldn’t be here in the duke’s bed in Stonehurst, she should be in Scotland, laughing with Kate and playing with Maisie and Lorna.
The duke rose from his seat beside the bed and walked around, coming to sit on the edge of the mattress beside her.
The man she hated, loathed in fact, appeared…affected. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a few days’ time, and the dark stubble covered his strong jaw. His shirt didn’t fit quite right, and there was a loose brown button in a row of black buttons.
