Page 52 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
He turned his head to look at the older man, perhaps his butler? “Alder, please see that all of these gentlemen are on their way immediately.”
“As you say, my lord.” He turned his attention to the group and looked at them expectantly. Then he turned to Lucy. “We’ll take care of his lordship.”
“Except her.Him.” He shook his head. “I took quite a fall.”
Ice flooded Lucy’s veins as she glanced around to see what they’d thought of his slip. Greene watched her with an odd look in his eyes that made her extremely uncomfortable.
“Why does he get to stay?” Charles asked. He sounded a bit petulant, but Lucy wasn’t sure she blamed him. Dartford wasn’t being particularly hospitable. But as he said, he’d taken quite a fall.
Dartford sent Charles a dark stare. “Because he’s a physician.”
A what?Lucy blinked, wondering how in the world she was going to pretend to dothatgoing forward. What had he just done?
He winced, putting his hand to his head. Blood tracked from the cut over his eyes down his temple and along his cheek.
“We need to get him inside,” Lucy said in her most authoritative tone. She turned to the other men. “Go on. He’ll be fine.” She had no idea if that were true of course, but he did seem all right.
The woman came forward with Dartford’s hat and placed it on his head. “To keep the rain off ye.” She spoke with a gentle Irish lilt.
The younger man and Lucy steadied Dartford between them as they walked toward the house. It was an arduous procession, and she wondered if they should’ve brought a cart or something to carry him.
“How’s Sadler?” Dartford asked.
Lucy had met all the gentlemen in attendance and didn’t recognize the name. “Who?”
“The balloonist.”
“I’m not certain, my lord,” the younger retainer answered. “Samuel went to check on him.”
Dartford nodded, wincing with the movement. “Let me know what he finds out. I’ve the devil of a headache.”
“Is that why you ordered everyone away?” Lucy asked.
“No. I don’t like people coming to Darent Hall.” His clipped tone said he didn’t want to discuss it further, but Lucy was still curious. She put her questions away for later.
The rain increased as they made their way to the house, and by the time they arrived, Lucy’s coat was quite wet. The older woman, who Lucy had learned was the housekeeper, Mrs. Alder, had walked ahead of them, and now barked orders to a couple of footmen, who ran to do her bidding, starting with a bath for his lordship.
She turned, her soft smile at odds with the command she’d just displayed. “Go on up. I’m going to the kitchen to fetch a tonic for his headache.” She looked at Lucy. “What else do ye require for your treatment?”
Lucy blinked, her tongue freezing in her mouth. “Ah, hot water, clean cloths. The tonic, of course.” She didn’t sound remotely like a physician. What had Dartford done by spewing that nonsense?
They made their way upstairs, and thankfully, Tindall, Dartford’s valet, she’d also learned, supported most of his weight. His bedchamber was at the back of one of the wings of the U-shaped house. It was large, with tall windows looking out over the expansive park and forest behind the house.
A massive four-poster stood against one wall. Tindall led Dartford to it, and Lucy stepped aside. She was suddenly completely and tensely aware that she was inside Dartford’s bedroom.
“I’ll go help with the bath.” Tindall looked at Lucy. “Can you get him undressed?”
Lucy’s eyes widened, and she coughed. She looked to Dartford to intervene, but he was pulling at his cravat and didn’t seem as though he’d heard what Tindall had said.
Dartford perched on the edge of the bed and dropped his cravat to the side. It slithered to the floor. “I don’t want a damned bath,” he muttered. He’d at least heardthatmuch. “Though hot water does sound delicious. It was bloody freezing up there.” He turned his head toward Tindall, who was just disappearing into an adjoining chamber. “Tindall, a moment.”
The valet turned and came back. “My lord?”
“No one is to come into this chamber save you and Mrs. Alder.” He gestured toward Lucy. “This…personis not what you think. You’re going to keep her secret. Is that clear?”
Tindall didn’t even flinch at his use of “her.” “Yes, my lord.” He left without another word or any reaction whatsoever.
“I’m not undressing you,” Lucy said, abandoning her masculine voice and any other pretense of her disguise.
