Make Me Love You

by Johanna Lindsey

  Only Brooke, who felt a blush warming her cheeks, and maybe Matty, understood that first remark.

  At first, it was slow going through the woods, but they moved more swiftly once they reached the road. A ways down it, Axel finally stopped, told them to remove their blindfolds, and handed over the reins, then disappeared through the woods along the road.

  Dominic stared after him for a moment. “They’ll probably move that camp anyway. That lout was no more trusting than I am and really does think all he’s getting out of this is my damned coat.”

  Brooke kept the grin to herself, inordinately pleased that they were free! “But his mother trusts me—and I told her she could trust you. Was I right?” she asked as he started them down the deserted road at a fast clip.

  “I gave him my word,” he grumbled. Once their pace picked up to a gallop, she heard him snort quite derisively, “They call these fast horses?”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  WITH EVERY OTHER CRISIS taken care of, Dominic was back to worrying about his mother as they raced to London. He predicted they would get there by tomorrow night. Apparently they’d sailed that far down the coast before their misadventure with the highwaymen for him to think so. Swapping out the horses for fresh ones at several of the towns they passed allowed them to continue at a gallop. They spent the night at an inn and were on the road again at dawn. Brooke agreed that speed was more important than her comfort; she just didn’t bother to say so. And she didn’t complain, not once.

  But as much as she loved riding, she was quite tired of it by that nightfall. However, she could have walked into the Wolfe town house. Dominic didn’t need to pick her up and carry her up the front steps and inside.

  The butler let them in, a gray-haired, rotund fellow in his nightclothes. Was it that late? She was tired enough to think it might be.

  “Hot bathwater, hot food, and wake whoever you need to, Willis,” Dominic ordered. “But point me to a clean room for Lady Whitworth first.”

  Brooke protested, “Just food will do. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep in a bath.”

  “Is the lady hurt?” Willis asked as he hurriedly followed Dominic upstairs.

  “No, just tired. I may have overdone my haste in getting here. How is my mother?”

  “Worse than when I wrote you, m’lord. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  Dominic didn’t put Brooke down until Willis opened a door for him. She spotted the bed and headed straight toward it, deciding food could wait until morning, too. She glanced back to tell Dominic that, but the door had already closed behind him. She sighed and moved away from the tempting bed. She looked for a mirror to see how badly disheveled she looked, but couldn’t find one so she moved to one of the two windows instead. She had a view of the street out front and a single lamppost. Peaceful, with no traffic this late. London! They’d even galloped through the streets, not giving her a chance to see much of it. Tomorrow, maybe . . .

  She was looking at the bed again when Dominic knocked on her door and entered without permission. He held a pitcher of water and a plate of warmed food.

  She was too tired to thank him, but she did smile at his thoughtfulness.

  “Mother’s sleeping,” he said. “Even her maid is sleeping. I won’t know her actual condition until morning.”

  “Nonsense, go wake the maid. You didn’t nearly kill us today riding here to sleep without some news.”

  “Her brow is still hot.”

  Brooke wanted to put her arms around him. He looked so helpless, and in fact he could do nothing to help his mother other than make sure she had the best physician available.

  “Summon her doctor in the morning. See what he has to say before you think the worst. And keep in mind, fever does rise at night.”

  Still looking worried, he nodded and left Brooke. She did no more than wash her face and hands, eat half the food on the plate, and collapse on top of the bedcover. Removing her clothes required too much effort, and she was sore from being on a horse all day. She was half-asleep when it occurred to her that she should have invited Dominic to spend the night with her. She could have offered him more comfort than the little reassurance she’d given.

  A maid woke her in the morning with fresh water, fresh towels, and a chipper attitude, claiming a guest was exciting news for the staff because they rarely had guests that stayed over other than her ladyship’s son. Bathwater as well as breakfast were apparently already on the way up.

  The room she’d been given was quite utilitarian, with less furniture in it than some of the inn rooms she’d stayed at on the way to Rothdale. The bed was soft, but only one night table with a lamp was beside it. The room had a narrow standing wardrobe, a washstand, a small tin tub without a screen, and a single reading chair. But there was no table, no vanity, not even a bureau, and she looked again and still couldn’t find a mirror. It appeared that the lady of the house didn’t want overnight guests and made sure if she had one the guest wouldn’t stay long.

  But among the servants who carried in the buckets of water was a footman with a hard-backed chair in one hand and a small round table in the other, which he set down near one of the windows. Brooke laughed. At least the servants didn’t mind having guests.

  As Brooke helped herself to a sausage biscuit, one of the maids promised her a more substantial breakfast when she came downstairs—if she could manage those stairs today, Brooke thought. Good God, she was sore from all that galloping. She had only felt it minimally last night. As Brooke stepped into the tub, she hoped the hot water would ease the ache in her legs. It might have helped if she were bathing in a normal tub. But in the little round one she could barely sit down, having to scrunch up her legs. It was more designed to just stand in, get soaped, get rinsed, get out. But she didn’t have a maid to help with that, and it would be another couple of days before Alfreda arrived with . . .

  Brooke gasped with the belated realization that her valise hadn’t been brought to her room yet. She balked at the thought of wearing the dress she’d worn yesterday before it was cleaned.

  Then for the second time Dominic entered her room without permission, with just a single rap on the door to announce that he was coming in. Brooke squeaked and tried to sink lower in the little tub, but that was impossible, so she hugged the side facing him, using it as a shield.

  “I’m afraid I forgot about this last night, and the footman who saw to the horses merely set it in the foyer.” Dominic set her valise on the bed before he approached the tub and put a hand to her cheek. “Good morning.”

  She was speechless, confused, and definitely hot cheeked. He had to know how inappropriate this was. They weren’t married yet—or had he finally accepted that they would be? His attitude had changed since they’d made love, not overtly, but in little ways. He didn’t hesitate to touch her now, helping her on and off horses the last two days, carrying her into his house, and just now, a gentle caress. And not one dark feral look since they’d left the highwaymen’s camp. She shouldn’t read too much into that, she really shouldn’t, not when he was still so worried about his mother, and yet she couldn’t resist the thought that making love with him might have changed everything between them.

  “Do hurry,” he continued. “My mother is awake and I’d like to hear what you have to say about her illness.”

  He left, closing the door behind him. She sighed. Maybe he was just being nice and thoughtful because he wanted her help.

  She finished her bath, even managed to wash her hair since the servants had left her two extra buckets of water, though she couldn’t be sure that she’d gotten all the soap out.

  With his Do hurry still in mind, she quickly dried her hair by tossing it about to simulate a breeze, but she almost laughed when she realized she didn’t have a hairbrush. Alfreda had been so busy worrying about tiny boats and Brooke’s falling asleep on horses and falling off them that the maid had forgotten to pack a brush. Brooke was definitely going shopping sometime today for some amenities, an
d thankfully she wouldn’t have to ask Dominic for money. She had only brought a quarter of her funds with her, leaving the rest with Alfreda, but she had kept the money in her pocket rather than her valise, where the highwaymen might have found it.

  With her hair tied back so it wasn’t so obvious it hadn’t been brushed, and wearing a pale apricot-colored day dress, she stepped into the corridor and didn’t even need to ask directions to Lady Anna’s room. It was the only room upstairs with the door open.

  She approached the bed where Dominic was standing, holding his mother’s hand even though she appeared to be sleeping again. A single glance told Brooke the woman might be dying. She didn’t need to see Dominic’s expression to know that. Anna Wolfe looked so haggard it was hard to tell what she might look like when she wasn’t sick. The black hair under her nightcap was matted, she was as pale as white parchment, and even the skin of her lips was cracking. She didn’t even have the strength left to open her eyes fully. And it sounded as if she was having trouble breathing.

  Brooke immediately filled the glass on the table next to the bed with water and told Dominic to rouse his mother and make her drink it. He tenderly helped his mother to sit up, but she did no more than take a few sips, barely opening her eyes, before she had to lie down again.

  Dominic pulled Brooke out into the corridor. “Her doctor just left,” he whispered. “Pneumonia, he said. It’s usually fatal. And my mother is upset with me for bringing you here. Our talk has debilitated her even more.”

  “So you explained?”

  “She already knew. I sent her a missive from Rothdale right after the Regent’s emissary left. Her doctor congratulated her earlier in the week on our forthcoming marriage.”

  Brooke winced. “So it’s become common knowledge?”

  “It’s definitely making the rounds if even her doctor heard about it. Prinny apparently didn’t consider it a secret, but mother is now worried that it will become more than curious gossip and speculation. We don’t want anyone to know about Ella.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Can—can you fix her as you did me?”

  Brooke had a feeling this was the only reason he’d insisted she come with him to London, especially since she could have arrived before Sunday by coach. A high fever was all he’d said about Anna’s illness before they left Rothdale, so Alfreda had given Brooke herbs to treat a normal cold. But pneumonia was a serious illness.

  Brow furrowed, Brooke told him, “Alfreda gave me two herbs that might help your mother, but I’m going to need a lot more of both of them, so I need to visit an apothecary today. I also need to talk with your cook to see if your kitchen has the ingredients I need for a broth your mother should drink once a day.”

  “I have a hack waiting.” He took her hand to lead her downstairs and outside.

  He’d tried to second-guess her? Or just cover all contingencies? She was impressed.

  She was able to find exactly what she needed for the teas, pleurisy root and fenugreek seeds. She would have stopped at another shop to buy a brush, too, if Dominic weren’t in such a hurry.

  She mentioned it though when they got back to his house before she headed to the kitchen. So she hoped a brush would be waiting in her room before the end of the day—if he was going to maintain this new considerate attitude. She supposed he might just be making amends for their harrowing trip. Or bribing her with kindness to help his mother. She hadn’t exactly seen this side of him before their adventure at the highwaymen’s camp to know if he was usually like this when he wasn’t fighting against a marriage he didn’t want. But time would tell. . . .

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “WHAT THE DEUCE DID you put in my water?”

  Brooke flinched at Anna Wolfe’s tone. Dominic came forward in concern to take the glass from his mother’s hand, giving Brooke a questioning look. Had she really thought this would be a simple matter? Obviously the mother was going to be a complaining patient just like her son.

  With a sigh Brooke said, “A little cayenne and lemon. It’s going to help you breathe easier—if you drink it. And the tea I just poured for you will start clearing your lungs of congestion, and, well, frankly, it’s going to make you sweat.”

  “I don’t sweat” came the reply ladies tended to make.

  “Today you will want to, so be glad when you do. Sweating is a faster means of removing harmful things from your body, which will help you to feel better sooner.” Since Dominic hadn’t bothered to introduce Brooke, and Anna had already been told she was there to help, she said, “I’m Brooke, in case you were wondering.”

  “I know exactly who you are,” Anna said disparagingly. “His sister.”

  Brooke stiffened and glanced at Dominic. He pulled her aside for a moment. “She’s known about what your brother did and what it caused Ella to do for as long as I have. That was something I couldn’t keep from her. I apologize in advance. Treating her may not be pleasant.”

  May not be? Brooke felt a hysterical laugh coming on. Did he think she would refuse to help if she knew his mother despised her as much as he . . . ? But he didn’t despise her any longer. He couldn’t, not when he trusted her to help his mother.

  She nodded and moved back to the bed. Like mother, like son. They even glared the same way! With a sigh she told Anna, “I’m sorry about my brother, but I’m nothing like him.”

  “You still aren’t welcome in my house.”

  Dominic began, “Mother—”

  “She’s not and never will be. I told you not to bring this viper in here.”

  The older woman might be making her feelings quite clear, but her words were slowly uttered, some even wheezed. She’d been helped to sit up halfway in bed. Her eyes were fully open now. Amber eyes like Dominic’s.

  Brooke thought she ought to leave. Her presence was upsetting the older woman. She started to, but Dominic put a hand on her arm to keep her there before he said to his mother, “She’s here to help you at my behest. I already told you this and how quickly she was able to mend me with her knowledge of herbal remedies. Her brother might be despicable, but she can be trusted. However, when you are well, we will both leave if that is still what you want.”

  “She put pepper in my water!” Anna said accusingly. “Or did you not know that’s what cayenne is?”

  “It does sound odd. But maybe you should see if it does what she claims before you refuse it?” He handed the glass to his mother with a quelling look.

  She took it but didn’t put it to her lips. Brooke hoped she would when she was done complaining, but she wasn’t done yet. Anna told him in a half-beseeching, half-commanding tone, “You can’t marry her, Dom. She’s a blatant reminder of what we lost.”

  “You no longer make my decisions, Mother. That burden is on me. And you have gotten worse, not better, according to your doctor. He has given up on you. I will not. So you will follow Brooke’s instructions and you will cease your complaints about it. Or do you not want to survive this malady?”

  “To see you leg-shackled to her? No, I would rather not live for that.”

  He swore, quite foully, and stalked out of the room, telling Brooke to come with him. But she didn’t move right away, having noticed the tears that came to Anna’s eyes when he walked to the door. She understood Anna’s point of view. The woman wanted the best for her son. In her eyes, Brooke was the worst.

  Dominic was waiting for her at the door. As soon as he closed it, she said, “My presence upsets her too much, when she needs peace and quiet to recover. She won’t get that if I go in there again.”

  “So you’re not going to help her?”

  “Of course I am. The nice thing about the regimen to combat pneumonia is that I’m not needed to deliver it, merely to do the mixing and steeping. You can make sure she drinks every drop, or her maid can.”

  “Thank you. I will leave you to it then and return shortly. I need to dispatch that money to those miscreants we spent the night with.”

  The l
ook he gave her clearly told her that he was remembering what they had done that night. It left her blushing.

  Chapter Forty

  “AND NOT EVEN A note to say you’re back in London?”

  Dominic swung around, surprised to see his two closest friends outside the bank, but he had to chuckle at Archer’s aggrieved expression. “I rode in late last night. Have you even been home since last night to see if I sent one this morning?”

  “Oh,” Archer said contritely.

  Benton elbowed Archer before saying to Dominic, “Good to see you, old chap. I’ve got wonderful news, but we hear you do as well. This calls for another celebration.”

  Dominic raised a brow. “Is that what you two have been doing?”

  “I don’t know about him,” Archer elbowed Benton back, “but I’m sober by now.”

  “Only because we slept with our heads on the table,” Benton insisted.

  “I would never,” Archer said, aghast. “But I did watch you sleep. Quite boring. I surely would have left you there to snore it off if the serving wench hadn’t kept me entertained. But this does call for another round. Shall we?”

  Each taking one of Dominic’s arms, they steered him across the street to one of their favorite taverns. He knew from experience that there was no point in protesting. Besides, he’d missed these two friends, had known them most of his life, having attended school with them.

  Archer was the tallest of the three by a few inches. He was often called the golden boy not just because his family had such deep pockets. Blond and green eyed, too handsome by far, he was considered the ton’s most eligible bachelor and was at the top of every hostess’s invitation list. Benton, while just as handsome with his brown hair and eyes, had developed a bit of a reputation as a gambler, so he didn’t receive nearly as many invitations, which might be why he’d been seeking a wife outside London.