Page 108 of The English Duke
“Come to bed with me, Martha.”
For a moment she couldn’t breathe.
Had he suddenly remembered? Had he realized it was she who had been in his bed all those weeks ago?
“You can help me to my bed,” he said, “and then leave before anyone knows you’re here. I would hate to cause you any problems.”
Standing, she reached down and gripped his hands, helping him to his feet.
“Lean on me,” she said.
“Dearest Joan.”
She really shouldn’t be so pleased at his words, especially since he had taken an opiate.
Placing her arm around his waist, she helped him the two dozen feet or so into the bedroom.
He was right. If anyone knew she was there, it would cause a great many problems. Still, she had no intention of leaving him even as he slept. She had promised to be there as a bulwark against his nightmares.
The palatial bed built for a queen was set up on a dais. For a second she wondered if it was worth the effort to reach it, but the only other piece of furniture was an ornate fainting couch that was hideously uncomfortable. He wouldn’t be able to stretch out his leg fully if he lay there.
They made it up the two steps of the dais by Jordan leaning on her heavily. Three more steps up to the bed. Jordan half fell on top of the mattress, but sideways.
She gently manipulated his leg until he was lying in the correct position, placed a pillow beneath his head, and rolled him to his left side so he wouldn’t be putting any pressure on his bad leg.
The dressing gown parted, revealing a scar from his knee all the way up his thigh. Instead of quickly covering his nakedness, she reached out and pressed her palm against his scar, wishing she could impart some healing to him.
The elixir had worked quickly. He was asleep or nearly so. At least she thought he was until she stepped back. He reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Stay with me, Joan.”
She knew it was wrong, even as she crawled up to the mattress and arranged herself beside him. She lay on her side, facing him, free to study him as she’d never before been.
His face was relaxed now, his mouth curved in a half smile. The nightmares had evidently not come yet. Was he dreaming of something pleasant? She hoped he was, scenes from a carefree past or hopes for an easier future.
Josephine would make him miserable and he deserved so much better. Not because he was a duke or the owner of Sedgebrook, but because he was a decent man, kind and caring.
He revealed himself slowly to people, as if he was afraid to be too vulnerable. He offered himself tentatively, almost as if he would cup his hands to give someone a drink of water.
If she had any sense at all, she would flee from this room. She would scamper back to her own suite, grateful she had rejected temptation.
Around him she had no sense of decorum or practicality, only contradictory emotions. Her heart felt close to bursting with feelings she’d never before had. Tears were too near the surface. She wanted to laugh at the same time she wished to weep. She was grateful for knowing him while wishing she’d never met him.
He’d given her passion and joy yet being with him had been horribly improper, shocking behavior she’d never imagined of herself.
What would her life be like if she was the one to be the bride later today?
Slowly, so as not to disturb his sleep, she placed her hand against his cheek, his night beard abrading her palm.
Jordan.
She spoke his name in her mind and then repeated it.
She would never be as close to him again as she was right now. Her lips would never hover over his, a kiss just a thought away. She would never lay on a mattress with him, the memories of the first time they’d done so still fresh and new.
Slowly she drew back, resting her head on the pillow, her hand on the mattress between them, content to watch him for a while.
Chapter 31
