Page 51 of Mending the Baron's Sins
“It is because I have wisdom in me. You should listen, you know.” His sister, the Marchioness of Marbourne, had shed her pelisse, muff, gloves and mad headdress. She was now clothed in a pale pink gown with many ruffles around the elbow. She was the picture of high fashion and elegance, and the smile on her face was joyous until she saw Orla stood by the bath.
At that moment, her smile dropped like a stone in water.
“Oh, Horace,” she suddenly complained loudly. “I thought you had left your old ways behind?” She waved a dismissive hand in Orla’s direction. “Are you bedding your staff now?”
“I beg your pardon?” Orla blushed a violent shade of red as the baron laughed and shook his head.
“You misunderstand,” he said hurriedly, and walked across the room toward Orla. Any other time, she would have admired how much more strength he had at the moment when he walked, but she was too distracted by the accusation. “This is my healer. Orla, this is my sister, Lady Marbourne.”
“Good day to you, Lady Marbourne.” Orla curtsied as the baron stopped by her side.
“Thank you,” he said softly, peering down into the bath. “A bath does sound nice.”
“I have prepared everything for you,” she said hurriedly, turning to follow the baron with her eyes. With his back turned to his sister, he offered an apologetic look. “The herbs will help with your strength; I am sure of it.”
“Thank you,” he whispered again.
“A healer? A woman rather than that old surgeon you employ?” Lady Marbourne’s voice could not be more dismissive if she tried.
The baron’s expression contorted once again into an apology.
“We’ll talk later,” he whispered to her.
“Is there anything else you need before I go?”
“No, we need nothing, thank you,” Lady Marbourne said tartly. “I am his sister. I can take care of him well enough. Horace, you will have to wait a while before you can have that bath. I wish to talk to you about how you have been.” She was now circling the room, taking more care to examine the chamber than her brother, anyway.
Orla shared an amused smile with the baron. As she walked past him, he caught her hand briefly. She looked around in panic, butLady Marbourne hadn’t noticed. She was busy admiring the bed hanging.
The touch meant everything as the baron briefly entwined a lone finger around Orla’s. She inhaled sharply just as he winked. It was an intimate moment, one of trust, then it was gone. Orla released his hand and hastened out of the room as fast as she possibly could. Closing the door, she leaned on the other side.
Her heart was thundering in her chest, thinking of the touch of the baron’s fingers through her own. She stayed there longer than she should, and when the baron and his sister started to talk again, she heard it all.
“A woman healer?”
“No more, Lavinia. She is excellent at what she does. I believe it is her that I owe my new strength, too.”
“Yet how inappropriate it is to have a woman in your chamber at all! You are not married, Horace. Must I remind you of that?”
“My bed is empty enough without you reminding me of it,” he said curtly. He must have sat down, for Orla heard a chair creak beneath his weight. “Now, will you tell me to what I owe this unexpected visit?”
“I simply wished to come and see you.” The marchioness must have sat down too, for another seat creaked. “You are so removed from life up here. Would you consider again my suggestion?”
“No,” Horace answered fast.
“But… I am sure it would do you so much good. Would you not consider the healing waters of Bath?”
“I have a bath. It’s waiting for me over there.”
“Oh Horace, you know what I mean.”
Orla smiled a little and stepped away from the door. Her heart may have leaped into her mouth when Lavinia suggested he moved, but it was plain that the baron had no intention of going anywhere at all.
***
“Oh, my God, oh, my God!” Esther said in a rush as she burst into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.
Orla nearly dropped the teacup in her hands as George laughed, close to choking on the toast he was eating.
