Page 56 of A Virgin for the Beastly Duke

“Yes, darling, I am here,” he answered, smoothing her hair.

The room was dimly lit, thus, she was able to open her eyes with ease. Doing so earlier had been more difficult. His handsome face was the first thing she saw, and her heart immediately expanded with relief.

Bridget had been so afraid, so lost, she thought she might never see him again. Harry was all she could think of in the dark stupor that had consumed her, all she wished to return to. When she heard his voice, she had felt some comfort in knowing that he was near her, but it had not been enough to allay her fears.

Only opening her eyes now and seeing him reassured her, and she wanted nothing more than to touch him, feel him, hold him. She leaned up and he slipped an arm under her, taking her in his embrace. She leaned into his warmth and closed her eyes.

He smiled down at her after some time. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her cheek.

She chuckled and raised her hand to stroke his cheek. He laid her back and leaned over her, his fingers gently running through her hair. She could close her eyes and let the sensation flow through her until she fell asleep again, but she wanted to be awake to see him despite feeling incredibly tired.

“How long have I been like this?” she asked.

His brow drew over his eye and his smile faded before he answered. “More than a day, almost two.” He regarded her with worry. “Bridget, you were poisoned.”

Her stomach clenched, and she was certain she would have cast up her accounts if she had eaten. She tried to sit up but Harry gently stilled her with a hand on her shoulder.

“You require more rest, Bridget,” he said softly.

“I cannot rest after hearing that. Tell me how to help you.” Bridget was the sort of woman who would act when her life was threatened.

“By laying back down.” He smiled. “You are safe here with me, and Drew is investigating.”

Bridget did feel safe there with him. He picked up a bottle from the nightstand, poured some of the contents into a glass, then raised it to her lips.

“It is ale,” he said. “The barley is good for you.”

She drank thirstily and did not stop until the glass was empty. Harry chuckled as he indulged her.

“More?” he asked, and she nodded. Despite the unfortunate incident, she loved being tended to by him. When his attention was completely on her, he was positively the most charming man in the world. “I wrote to your father and brother.”

“Did you tell them what happened?”

Harry shook his head slowly, returning the glass of ale to her lips. “I could not. I will have to tell them the truth when they arrive, however. I told them that you are unwell and that they should come.”

He was worried. She could see it in his eye and hear it in his tone. Her brother was not fond of Harry, and would likely blame him when he learned that she had been poisoned.

Bridget found his hand and held it, quietly reassuring him that she would defend him before her father and brother.

His smile was appreciative. “I should have some food brought up for you.” He squeezed her hand before gaining his feet and walking to ring the bell.

“I said you cannot see her now!” Harry said through clenched teeth as Andrew dashed out of his study. He went after him, hurrying to reach her chambers so her brother didn’t wake her. She had only woken up two days ago, and still needed more time to recover.

Unfortunately, Andrew reached the chambers before him, opening the door and barging into her sitting room. Harry cursed under his breath because she looked disoriented and seemingly in pain. Her hand went up to her temple and she winced.

“Bridget!” Andrew knelt before her and took her hand. “What happened?”

Harry had already told them what happened. What was he asking her?

“I am much better now, Andrew,” she said, sitting up.

“What happened,” he asked again.

“Best not to be asking her while she is in this condition,” Harry said, stepping toward them.

“This is the best time because I don’t trust a damned word from your mouth, Westwood!” Andrew returned harshly. “I had to see that she is alive for myself.”

“You were inconsiderate, Andrew,” Mortimer said, joining them. He went to stand beside Bridget, gazing down at her. There was worry in his countenance, but there was also a measure of relief. “How are you, my dear?”

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