She managed a real smile. “Thank you.”
“After my most discreet footman returns from fetching the doctor,” Clayton continued. “I’ll have him fetch your pony. We’ll tie him to the coach. He’ll return home with you.”
Thea breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve no idea what I’ll tell my father about my leg, but I’ll think of something.”
Ewan inclined his head toward her. “I’ll leave that to you, my lady, but you may rest assured I’ll tell no one about this incident as long as you promise the next time you want to see Alabaster, you send word that you’re coming, in broad daylight, dressed as a lady and with a proper chaperone.” He gave her a smile that made her feel like her insides lit up.
She squirmed in her seat, uneasy with the feeling. “I suppose you’re not entirely detestable, my lord,” she allowed.
A wide smile spread across his firm lips. “Detestable? Is that what you thought of me?”
“Among a variety of other things,” she admitted, smiling a bit herself despite the insistent throbbing in her leg.
“I see,” came his even reply.
“I’m certain you had a few choice words for me, my lord.”
He arched a brow. “I am a gentleman, my lady, and I shall not repeat them.”
She leaned toward him. “Oh, come now, tell me what you thought of me the first time you met me.”
He eyed her carefully, clearly trying to come up with words that would not offend her. Finally, he took a deep breath. “The truth, my lady, is that I thought—and still do—that I’d never met a more stubborn person, male or female.”
She laughed despite herself. “Father always says I was born stubborn. I was supposed to be born in December, but I didn’t come out until nearly February.”
Lord Clayton’s clap of laughter followed. “That does not surprise me. Indeed, my lady. I’m only fortunate that you were not the one betting against me at the auction that day. I’ve no doubt I would have come away the loser.”
She sighed. “Yes, but I would have put Father in the poor house with my bet.”
A slight commotion in the corridor caught Thea’s ear and she pushed herself up on the sofa, heart pounding again. Dr. Blanchard was coming. How would she ever explain herself to the doctor? Her hair was streaming over her shoulders like she was a doxy, and she was wearing breeches and a neckcloth for heaven’s sake.
Lord Clayton quickly stood. “Excuse me a moment.” He set down his drink and strode purposely out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. She heard him issuing orders to the footman to collect her pony and not to say a word about it to anyone. Then Lord Clayton’s voice lowered as he spoke to what was presumably the doctor for a few moments. There were some male murmurs in response, in the affirmative before the door opened and both men stepped inside.
Clayton quickly closed the door behind them.
“Dr. Blanchard is aware of your situation, Lady Theodora, and he’s agreed to complete privacy and secrecy.”
“You’ve nothing to worry about from me, my lady,” Dr. Blanchard said, hurrying to her side with his satchel and sitting on the side of the sofa next to her. “I will treat your leg and be on my way and never breathe a word about this to anyone.”
Thea’s shoulders relaxed for the first time since she’d fallen in the stables. Her heart pounded less fiercely in her chest. Clayton had handled the entire embarrassing explanation for her. She merely nodded in return. “Thank you, Doctor. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your assistance … and your discretion.”
The doctor nodded once. “Now let’s look at that leg.”
An hour letter, Thea’s leg was tightly wrapped in clean, white linens that one of Lord Clayton’s maids had delivered to the door without being allowed into the room. A wooden splint had been added to the wrapping to stabilize the limb. The examination and the setting of the bone had been painful to be certain, but Dr. Blanchard had been as gentle as he could. Thea was certain the brandy she’d swallowed had helped. She’d begun to feel quite happy and without a care.
With her permission, Dr. Blanchard had managed to cut away enough of her breeches to get a good look at her leg. The break was below the knee, thank heavens. That, at least, had been fortunate. He’d set it and wrapped it and given her a healthy dose of laudanum, which had served to make her immediately sleepy.
“That should do it,” Dr. Blanchard said as he stood and wiped his brow. “Now you must be quite careful with it. And go to sleep immediately.”
“Of course,” Thea replied, already barely able to keep her eyes open. “Thank you, doctor. I promise to go straight to bed as soon as I get home.”
Thea pushed herself to the edge of the sofa, ready to stand … perhaps with help. She needed to get home as quickly as possible. “I shan’t be a burden to you much longer, Lord Clayton,” she said, addressing that remark to the viscount who had just re-entered the room after Dr. Blanchard had informed him it was all right to do so.
“If you’ll kindly call your coach to take me home,” Thea said to Lord Clayton.
Lord Clayton immediately turned toward the door as if he intended to do exactly that when the doctor’s confused voice stopped him. “Home? My, lady, you cannot go home.”
Clayton stopped and swung around to face the doctor, his brows snapping together over his eyes, a thunderous look on his face.
Thea’s eyes widened and she gulped. “What do you mean?” Surely, she’d misheard the doctor.
The doctor shook his head. “That is an extremely nasty break. It’s not clear through the bone, but it’s far worse than a mere fracture. Moving the leg any more than is necessary is entirely out of the question.”
“What are you saying?” Thea managed to whisper, but her throat was closing, and it seemed as if the room was beginning to spin again.
“I mean you cannot move such a great distance, my lady. And certainly not via coach. Until your leg heals sufficiently, you must stay right here.”
Chapter Twelve
The sun had barely peeked over the meadow the next morning as Ewan paced outside the bedchamber he’d carried Lady Theodora to last night after Dr. Blanchard’s departure. In addition to James, the discreet footman, Ewan had chosen his most trusted maid, Rosalie, and his housekeeper, Mrs. Cotswold. The three servants were responsible for seeing to Lady Theodora. If Ewan kept the knowledge of her visit to the servants who already were aware, including Humbolt, perhaps the story of her being there would not get out.
Ewan rubbed the back of his neck and paced some more. Should he visit her? Should he leave her entirely alone? They hadn’t had much of a chance to speak about the situation last night. After Dr. Blanchard left, Lady Theodora had fallen immediately to sleep. Ewan had made the decision to carry her upstairs himself where he’d chosen the nicest and most feminine bedchamber for her. He’d summoned Mrs. Cotswold and Rosalie to tuck Lady Theodora in and he’d made it clear that no one outside of himself and the servants who were already privy, should know of Lady Theodora’s presence in the house.
She wouldn’t be happy when she awoke. That was for certain. The look on her face when Dr. Blanchard had informed her that she wouldn’t be able to go home could only be described as somewhere between horrified and aghast.
Ewan couldn’t blame her. He’d been feeling quite similar emotions. How in the world would they be able to stay under the same roof for weeks? Not only were they essentially complete strangers, the two times they had met most recently, they had been at each other’s throats. And now she was expected to be his house guest for weeks? The chit was nothing but trouble as she’d proved time and time again. Granted, now she was trouble with a broken leg, but trouble just the same.
Add to that, the very real danger that if anyone found out she was here, there could be a scandal. One that might affect his political career, let alone his future marriage. What if Lady Lydia and her father found out?
Ewan wasn’t entirely blameless, however. A flash of guilt shot
through him. If he hadn’t frightened her in the stables and made her tumble from the windowsill, she wouldn’t have broken her leg. However, he mustn’t forget that she had been the one sneaking into his stables. And now he was stuck with the chit for an entire month.
First thing was first, however. Ewan had had the unfortunate task of having to send a missive to Lord Blackstone in the wee hours of the morning explaining the situation the best he could. He was expecting the earl’s arrival at any moment.
“Are you going to pace out there all morning or come in?” came Lady Theodora’s disgruntled voice from inside the bedchamber.
Ewan stopped pacing. He had to smile. What other type of greeting did he expect from the chit? Last night she’d been in pain. Today the doctor had left her some medicine to alleviate it, but she still sounded grumpy. He recalled how she’d scolded him for not understanding the irony of Alabaster’s name last night. Not only was she determined, she was brash, and bordering on rude. One never knew what would come out of her mouth next. Apparently, a broken leg hadn’t changed that.
Forcing his face to remain completely blank, Ewan pushed open the door with one hand and peeked inside. “How did you know I was out there?”
“Who else would be wearing a hole in the floor?” she shot back.
“Are you decent?” he ventured.
A long sigh ensued. “I’m wearing a nightrail whose owner is a mystery to me and have the blankets pulled up to my armpits. I’m as decent as possible given the circumstances.”
That was good enough for Ewan. He stepped inside the large white room filled with hints of light blue. His mother had always favored this room of all the guest rooms. It was the largest and the most lavishly decorated. That’s why he had chosen it for Lady Theodora.
She was sitting in the middle of the enormous bed, with a nightgown pulled to her chin and blankets atop that. He could only see her head. He smothered a laugh. She was more covered than she’d been last night for certain. Her long dark hair was down around her shoulders and Rosalie must have brushed it because it was certainly not in the disarray it had been last night after he’d pulled off her cap. She looked young, and pretty, despite the slight dark smudges under her eyes. She was paler than he remembered her, no doubt due to the pain in her leg. He could almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
Ewan shook off the sympathetic thoughts. “The nightgown belongs to one of the maids. I’ve ensured the utmost discretion,” he offered, coming to stand at the end of the bed facing her.
Lady Theodora nodded. “Is it the maid who came to check on me earlier? “I’ll have to thank her myself.”
“Yes, her name is Rosalie.”
Lady Theodora gave him a wary stare. “You ... aren’t the one who dressed me, are you?”
He arched a brow. “Of course not. What sort of blackguard do you take me for? I carried you up here and handed over your care to Rosalie and Mrs. Cotswold.”
Was it his imagination or did she blush? He hadn’t thought she was capable of blushing.
“Thank you for that, then,” Lady Theodora replied, pulling up the covers even higher as if that were possible.
“It’s highly inappropriate for me to be in your bedchamber, of course,” Ewan continued, “but I suppose we’ve thrown convention aside long ago. How are you feeling this morning?”
Lady Theodora leaned her head back against the large pile of pillows before saying, “Every bone in my body aches if you must know.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, smothering another smile. “You took quite a fall last night.” He refrained from saying it served her right for causing so much blasted trouble.
She emitted another long sigh. “I was an idiot. I’ve made a complete mess of things.” She uttered the words so simply and honestly.
Ewan was taken aback by her willingness to be so truthful. “I’m pleased to hear you taking responsibility for your part in this little tragedy. Perhaps you’re not entirely too stubborn, my lady,” he said, echoing her sentiment about him being detestable from the night before.
“Oh, I am. Trust me,” she said, lifting a hand and waving it in the air before allowing it to drop atop the blankets again.
He chuckled at that before saying, “I took the liberty of writing to your father and—”
“You what?” She shot upright and her eyes flew open wide.
Ewan stepped back and scratched behind his ear, wincing. He was about to anger her. He could feel it. “I wrote to your father. To let him know you’re here. According to James, my footman who delivered the message, your father is coming here to visit you this morning.”
Lady Theodora pressed both hands to her cheeks. “Why in heaven’s name did you involve my father?”
Ewan cocked his head to the side and regarded her. “Would you rather I tell no one and allow your family to think you’d been abducted or run off?” he asked calmly, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Lady Theodora emitted a disgruntled huffing noise. “I intended to write Maggie a note to let her know I was safe.”
“Maggie?” he asked.
“My maid.”
Ewan cleared his throat. “While that might have made you feel as if you’d done enough, I’m afraid as a gentleman, I could not allow you to stay here without your father knowing the details of what has occurred. You must see the reason in that.”
Lady Theodora wrinkled up her nose as she contemplated his words. The look on her face indicated that she clearly did not see the reason in it. She was about to open her mouth to no doubt say something pert when a slight knock on the door interrupted their exchange. Ewan turned to see Humbolt standing there, clearly regretting the fact that he’d had to interrupt him.
“My apologies, my lord, but Lady Theodora’s father is in the drawing room. He’d like to see her.”
“Of course,” Ewan replied, quickly backing out of the room. “I’ll bring him up myself.”
He left the room without a backward glance at Lady Theodora. He would have been beyond embarrassed if her father had known that he’d been in her bedchamber alone with her. Hopefully Lady Theodora wouldn’t reveal that particular bit about her stay to Lord Blackstone.
As Ewan made his way down the corridor to the staircase, he rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired, and now he had the unenviable task of informing the earl that his unmarried daughter would have to stay at a bachelor’s home for the better part of six weeks.
Chapter Thirteen
Thea pressed her head back against the pillows on the bed and stared at the frescoed ceiling of the guest chamber for several moments. How in the world had she got herself into this mess? Oh, she knew the answer well enough. Her stubbornness. When she found herself in a mess, the answer was always her stubbornness. Her father had always told her that being stubborn was her most unattractive trait. Even Mama had told her she was too stubborn. It was true, she always had been, even to her detriment. This was certainly one of those times.
She should have written Lord Clayton an apology and asked nicely to visit Alabaster. She should have never returned after seeing the horse successfully twice. She should have never dressed as a lad and sneaked through a window. She should have done a half a score of things differently, but that didn’t change the fact that she was lying in the middle of an elegantly appointed bedchamber in Lord Clayton’s house wearing someone else’s nightrail, about to have to explain to her father what exactly she’d done to end up here.
For some inexplicable reason, apparently Lord Clayton actually believed she would stay here while her leg healed. That was out of the question, obviously. Oh, Lord Clayton had done what he thought was right by ensconcing her in a bedroom and informing her father of her location. He’d done the only honorable thing he could, actually, and gone above and beyond to ensure only a few trusted servants were aware of the embarrassing situation, but Lord Clayton couldn’t possibly think she could actually remain here, despite what the doctor said. Doctors weren’t concerned with things
like reputations and scandals. But she certainly was. Not even so much for herself, but for Anthony. She refused to drag her innocent brother’s good name through the mud. Why, Anthony would need to court and marry his future countess one day. Having a sister tainted with scandal would greatly affect his prospects.
And if all that wasn’t enough reason she couldn’t possibly stay here, there was the practical aspect to the entire affair. She barely knew the viscount. She’d angered him. He’d angered her. They may have made a tentative peace last night, but that hardly made them friends. It would be beyond embarrassing, not to mention, exceedingly awkward, to have to stay at his home for the next several weeks, an unwanted and uninvited guest based on the fact that she’d sneaked into his stables and had the misfortune—however culpable he may have been in the act—to break her fool leg.
She expelled her breath and pushed herself up against the pillows, clenching her jaw against the pain as her broken leg jostled slightly against the mattress. She needed more laudanum, but she hadn’t dared to ask for it. She needed her wits about her when she spoke to Father. He would agree with her, of course. He had to. He’d come to fetch her. She was certain of it. Why else would he travel all the way here? Father would see the logic in needing to remove her from the house and avert potential gossip and a scandal.
Thea glanced around the elegant bedchamber. If she’d thought Lord Clayton’s stables were magnificent, his home was glorious. Her own bedchamber at home wasn’t this fine. In addition to the large bed that was populated with the finest of linens, the walls were papered in white with tiny blue flowers. Near the fireplace there was a seating area complete with a settee upholstered in what appeared to be light-blue silk. A sideboard near the window had a sterling silver tea set atop it. Fresh daisies rested in a white vase on her bedside table, and elegant embroidered curtains of the same light blue had been pulled back from the floor-to-ceiling windows, letting light stream through.
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