Page 105 of The English Duke
“He isn’t dressed, Miss York. It wouldn’t be proper.”
At the moment she didn’t give a flying fig for propriety. Being proper wasn’t at all rewarding.
She pushed past him and entered the sitting room designed for a queen. Everything was upholstered in crimson. The carpet was woven in a design of roses and peonies in shades of pink, crimson, and green. Even the curtains were crimson.
The queen had visited Griffin House only once. How had Her Majesty tolerated the color? It was like walking into a bloody beast.
Jordan was sitting on a chair opposite the settee, attired in a blue-and-silver patterned dressing gown. She could see his bare throat and the upper part of his chest.
He had his head back, eyes closed. His pale face was illuminated by the lamp on the table.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” he said. “I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Is it your leg?” she asked.
“Yes.”
The answer was short, declarative, and almost angry, revealing the depth of his pain.
“Henry says you haven’t taken any of Dr. Reynolds’s elixir.”
“No.”
“Why not, when it’s all too evident you need it?”
Henry closed the door and moved to the chair. He dropped to his knees, reached out, and began massaging Jordan’s right leg with practiced expertise.
Jordan closed his eyes again, his lips thinning as his face stiffened.
“Are you using camphor oil?” she asked the valet.
“No,” Jordan said, answering for him.
“Would you be amenable to finding our housekeeper?” This remark, too, she addressed to the valet. When Henry glanced at her, she continued. “My father had a back injury and she concocted something for it. It has camphor and some other things and it’s similar to liniment. I think it might help.”
The last comment she addressed to Jordan.
“I don’t think anything will help.”
“If you feel that way, then you need to take your elixir.”
“The damnable elixir is the reason I’m here now,” he said. He opened his eyes. “My apologies for the language.”
“Well, you can’t do anything worse when taking it now,” she said. “Your wedding is tomorrow.”
“Thank you for the reminder,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten. I just hate the stuff. It puts me in a stupor.”
“Then we should start with the housekeeper’s lotion.”
“Very well,” he said, looking at Henry. “Go and wake the housekeeper. Give her my apologies.”
“You needn’t be so reluctant,” she said as Henry left the room. “I’ll bet it will do wonders for you. But I still think you should take the elixir.”
“I hate the nightmares it gives me. I feel as if I’m hallucinating.”
“Take it anyway,” she said. “I’ll stay with you.”
