"Are you certain you're a guardian angel?" she asked, trying to smile and failing miserably, her eyes on his face.
He cleared his throat. "You have no idea what a challenge this is for me, but yes, I remain faithfully so."
He rubbed more liniment into the bruise on her shoulder, and covered it loosely with a cloth. He pulled the covers up again, then stood and raised the sheets up on her left side to expose her thigh. Again he rubbed liniment into the angry purple bruise and lightly wrapped a cloth around her leg, so the oily stuff wouldn't come off onto the bed sheets.
That done, he covered her again and removed the medicines to her dressing table before he returned to her side to gaze down at her face. The lines of worry had eased, and she was nearly asleep. He supposed he shouldn't have found it terribly flattering that a woman could doze off while he touched her so intimately, but the obvious trust she showed him affected him deeply. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead.
"Nicholas?" she said sleepily.
"Yes?" he responded, wearily sinking back down into the chair.
"Did you call me your 'love,' earlier?"
"Yes, I did," he answered after a hesitation. Lord, she unsettled him.
"I thought so," she murmured, smiling, and then was asleep.
Nicholas tended to her ankles, and then sat watching over her for a long time. Here he was, alone at Crestley Hall with a beautiful woman lying naked only a few feet away, completely at his mercy, and he was behaving like a perfect gentleman. And with no witnesses to be impressed by his self-restraint. He must be in love, he reflected with a smile. Only that could make him act so utterly stupid.
15
"Good morning."
Katherine sat up stiffly and looked toward the window, to see Nicholas sitting in the deep sill. He was still in his shirt sleeves, and, from the look of him, hadn't left her side all night. "Good morning," she answered, feeling abruptly shy and wondering how he had gotten her into a clean shift without waking her up.
"How do you feel?" he asked, leaving his seat and walking over to stuff several pillows behind her so she could lean back.
"Much better," she answered, smiling at him.
"Your uncle is gone," he told her, sitting in the chair beside her, "and Gladstone says he seemed to accept the idea that he wouldn't be returning. He won't be bothering you again."
She agreed. The chance for Simon Ralston to profit there had been removed thanks to Nicholas Varon's name on the deed, and so he would have no reason to remain, or to return. "Thank you again."
"You're welcome, though I know how opposed you were to signing Crestley over. We had no luck in coming up with an alternative solution that wouldn't give your uncle a reason to torment you later." He sat back and chuckled. "My man, Gladstone, has a talent for subversiveness I never suspected. I'm certain he could be a master criminal if he wished."
"As could you, no doubt," she noted, grinning.
"Do you think so?" he queried, raising an eyebrow. "I did rather enjoy the results of our efforts." He sobered, reaching over to take her hand and caress her bandaged wrist. "The price was too high, however, and I think I shall have to keep to tamer pursuits in the future." He grinned wickedly. "Slightly tamer."
Gladstone scratched at the door, and Nicholas rose to open it. The duke's man of business entered, carrying a tray laden with what smelled like toast and potato soup. "Good morning, Your Grace . . . milady. There isn't much in the kitchen," he explained as he placed the tray on the nightstand, "so I put together what looked edible. Jack has gone into the village to buy some things."
"Gladstone," Nicholas exclaimed as his man turned to leave, "another talent. You have the makings of a fine cook."
"Thank you, Your Grace, but I have already found employment I rather enjoy," he replied, bowing as he left the room.
"You shouldn't tease him so, Nicholas," Katherine admonished, only to have him turn his attention back on her.
"It is one of my major goals in life to see Gladstone crack a smile," the Black Duke responded, returning to the chair and picking up the bowl of soup. "A bit below my station," he muttered, dipping the spoon into the hot liquid, "but I think I can manage this."
"Nonsense," she returned. "I can feed myself."
He shrugged and handed over the soup bowl. "As you wish."
She took a mouthful, watching him watching her. "I don't need you to watch me eat, either," she shot back, setting aside the bowl when he showed no sign of leaving.
Finally he sighed and rose. "Well, at least you appear to be feeling better," he noted, and walked to the· door. "I'm right next door. If you need me, throw something at the wall."
"Very amusing," she retorted, tempted to throw something at him instead.
The Black Duke grinned, gave a stiff bow, which abruptly reminded her that he was wounded as well, and left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone.
She had begun to realize that he intentionally provoked her, likely just to see how she would react. And she enjoyed it immensely, enjoyed the challenge of matching wits with him, and enjoyed seeing the amused appreciation in his eyes when she scored a hit. It was at Crestley two months earlier that she had given up her dream of a white knight. And here a few hours ago she had realized that perhaps black knights were more interesting, and that perhaps she had found one. She couldn't say exactly when she had fallen in love with Nicholas Varon, but now that she recognized that she had, it seemed it had always been so.
She finished her soup, and then experimentally rose and walked about the bedchamber. She was stiffer than she had been the day before, but the sharp pain in her wrists and ankles was gone, and she could almost feel the liniment working.
Someone knocked quietly at the door, and Nicholas entered before she could answer. He stopped as he saw her standing there. "Sorry to intrude," he said, "but I thought you might be asleep, and I didn't want to wake you. I should have realized you'd be preparing for a hike in the country."
He had put on a clean shirt and waistcoat, and his cravat was tied in a simple knot. She found herself looking at him closely, as though she, had never seen him before. Again she took in his lean, broad-shouldered frame, the black, wavy hair that touched his collar, and those emerald-highlighted gray eyes that had begun twinkling at her again.
''What is it―have I grown a third eye?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She blushed and turned toward the window. "I was just thinking you must be exhausted," she lied.
"I could do with some sleep." He stepped past her toward the wardrobe. "Do you feel like coming downstairs for a few moments?"
"All right," she agreed, "but I can choose my own clothes, thank you very much." She picked a blue muslin and pulled it on over her shift. She did let him lace the dress up the back, for, stiff as she was, she never would have been able to do it. Wryly she noted the ease with which he performed the task; he seemed to have a great deal of experience with the fastenings on women's clothing.
"Finished," he said after a moment, and took her shoulders to turn her around. "Have you looked out the window yet?" he asked abruptly, frowning a little as he glanced toward the casement.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I was going to, when you came in. Why?" Abruptly she realized just how long she had been away. She could only imagine what Crestley must look like now.
"Just remember," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the door, "whatever you see, we can make it right. I did purchase the entire Crestley estate, so you now have a great deal of money at your disposal."
The two of them went downstairs, and Nicholas opened the front door. "Where's Timms?" Katherine asked, abruptly missing the butler.
"Apparently your uncle let the entire staff go, except for the one woman who had been coming down from the village to cook. I think she had been stealing, and I took the liberty of letting her go."
"Can we get them back?" The members of the staff had been at Cr
estley for years. When her uncle had begun dismissing them it had been like losing more of her family.
''Give Gladstone their names, and we'll see what can be done," Nicholas replied.
Once outside, she realized what he had meant. The drive was ugly and rutted, and the lush ivy that had trailed up the walls was dead and tangled at the base of the stones. They had to walk through part of the garden to get to the stables, and weeds twisted among and lifted the stepping stones. All of the roses were dead. Crestley had been neglected since her mother's illness, but Kate was appalled at how far the estate had deteriorated in only a few short months.
They found the duke's bay coach horses staked out in front of the stables, with Jack inside, trying to repair one of the stalls. "Couldn't leave'em in here, Your Grace," he said. "There's a nest of rats in the loft, and the hay's gone bad."
"Where're the horses?" Katherine asked, dismayed. "My horses, I mean?"
Nicholas tightened his grip on her hand. "Your uncle sold them off, but Gladstone managed to purchase all of them back. They're at Sommesby, in my stables. And quite a fine lot, from what I hear."
"I suppose I should thank you, then," she said quietly, feeling that events had turned far out of her control, and that she was at the mercy of scheming uncles and roguish dukes.
"If you wish," he answered, seeming to sense her mood, ''but it's not necessary."
She cleared her throat. "What about the tenant lands?"
"According to Gladstone they could be worse," Nicholas replied, following her back toward the house. ''The acreage is a bit overgrown, but the crop still seems to be all right. Your uncle wasn't destructive, just negligent."
"No need to look after something if you don't intend to keep it, I suppose," she murmured, dismayed to realize that she was crying.
Nicholas turned her around and hugged her. "I told you that you needn't worry," he said into her hair.
For a moment she simply stood and let him hold her, putting her arms about his waist to pull him to her in return. "I gave that money back to you," she replied after a moment, understanding what he was referring to. That was one thing she refused to give ground on. "My feelings remain the same. I want no money changing hands where Crestley Hall is concerned. It wouldn't be right."
He was silent for a moment. "Well, then, consider that Crestley has suffered a blight, and allow me to loan you enough to set everything to rights again."
"Why did you gamble the Viscount of Worton's land away from him?" She finally trusted him where Crestley was concerned, but it was important that she know, especially with her home in his hands now, and especially because she had fallen in love with him.
He looked down. "Because I was drunk, and angry, and because he was draining so much money out of Worton that his tenants were starving."
"But you gave the deed to a footman."
"Yes, I did. It wasn't at all legal, though, and Phillips, the footman, is now overseeing Worton while the viscount makes improvements to it, at which time Phillips will return the deed to him." He sighed. "The conclusion isn't nearly as dramatic a tale as the beginning, I'm afraid, so it hasn't circulated nearly as widely."
"So you are occasionally pleasant," she commented, and he smiled.
"Depends who you ask, I suppose."
"I accept your offer of a loan, but I intend to repay it as soon as Crestley is up and running again." There was still money held in her trust, but that wouldn't be accessible for another two years. She wouldn't make him wait that long.
"That's the spirit," he said approvingly, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
She tilted her face up further, for it wasn't her forehead that she wanted kissed. He grinned and bent his head to comply. Katherine closed her eyes, but when she didn't feel his mouth touch hers, she opened them again. Nicholas was looking down at her, a wry grimace on his face.
"What is it?"
"There's no one about to stop me," he answered softly.
"Despite my best efforts I fear that I am becoming sadly proper, after all." He looked as though he wanted to say something further, but at the sound of a coach in the drive they both started. "Neville and Alison, I would assume," he said, and took her hand again.
He was correct. As they came around the comer Lord Neville was helping Lady Alison to the ground. "Kate, you are all right," Lady Alison cried, hurrying forward and drawing her into a tight embrace.
Lord Neville followed. and hugged her tightly as well. "I'm so sorry, child," he said. "I never thought Simon Ralston would kidnap his own niece."
"It's all right," she answered, knowing that he had done what he thought was best for her. "If Nicholas hadn't come to buy Crestley, someone else would have, and my uncle still would have needed to bring me here. And everything has worked out." She glanced up at Nicholas.
At that her godfather turned to Sommesby. "You told me you would find her," he said, reaching out his hand. "What's happened with Ralston?"
Nicholas promptly shook the older man's hand. "He has been persuaded to visit America. Permanently."
Lord Neville nodded. "And the deed?"
"Nicholas owns Crestley now," Katherine answered, unable to keep the mournful tone out of her voice.
"My name is on the deed," the duke amended. "Katherine is mistress of Crestley Hall."
The next day Nicholas brought Mr. Gladstone into the morning room, where Katherine and Lady Alison sat chatting. "Excuse me, ladies," he said, "but Gladstone and I would like a word with Katherine."
"Of course, Nick," Lady Alison answered, rising with a smile. "I'd best see what Neville is up to," she said, and exited the room.
Katherine gestured at the couch opposite her, and the two men sat. "What is it?" she asked,curious.
"I am placing Gladstone at your disposal," Nicholas said, and the secretary nodded. "As you know, he is quite resourceful. He has had twenty years of experience with Sommesby and the other Varon estates, so tell him what you desire, and he will find a way to do it." With a smile Nicholas rose and headed for the door.
Until that moment she hadn't been aware that he owned more than the huge estate at Sommesby, and again she was struck by how powerful the Black Duke must be. "You aren't going to stay?" she asked, looking after him.
He shook his head. "I don't intend to interfere," he answered. "If you desperately need my opinion, however, I shall be in the stables with Jack, chasing rats."
She spent two hours with Gladstone. It was odd to realize that she could do with Crestley Hall whatever she wished, from improvements to restoration to complete reconstruction of the stables. Gladstone indeed knew his business, and after he seemed to realize she would welcome his opinion, he gave it to her in precise and honest terms.
By morning the repairs had begun. Katherine rose early and went downstairs to be greeted at the door by Timms, standing at the ready as though he had never been gone. ''Timms!'' she exclaimed, delighted, and he gave her a nod and a smile.
"It's good to see that you've come back to set everything to rights, Miss Kate," he said, pulling open the door for her.
Outside she found Nicholas already up and walking along the drive with several workmen from the village. He looked up and greeted her with a smile. "Good morning, Miss Ralston." He excused himself from the villagers and strolled over to her side.
"Good morning, Your Grace," she answered.
''How do you feel this morning?"
"Much better," she answered. ''The stiffness is almost gone:"
He nodded. "Jack's gone into town to post your letter to Lyman and Chesterpot, the garden supply company. Roses?"
She nodded. "I want the garden to be back the way it was."
"Your parents would be pleased, I think."
She smiled a little tearfully. ''Thank you."
He touched her cheek with his fingers. "Cheer up, Kate. Jack and I have decimated the stable's rat population for you, at great hazard to ourselves, and I'll send to Sommesby for your horses as soon as you wish it."
"My heroes," she said with a chuckle, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Such a cynic, you are."
"It's a "habit I've picked up from you," she responded with a grin. She stayed outside for most of the morning while more villagers arrived to begin pulling out the dead growth around the manor and filling in the potholes in the drive.
When she went back inside and sat down to a light lunch with Lady Alison, her godmother finally asked her what had transpired at Crestley before her arrival. "But who bandaged your wrists and treated your other bruises?" her godmother asked at the finish, though from her tone Katherine assumed she knew the answer.
"Nicholas did," she replied.
"Nick treated your wounds?" Lady Alison repeated. For a long moment she looked closely at her goddaughter, and Katherine steadily returned her gaze.
''There was no one else here to do it," she said.
"Yes, and that is what I fear everyone will realize," the baroness responded.
"What?" Katherine asked, feeling a twinge of uneasiness at her godmother's somber tone.
''That you and the Black Duke of Sommesby were, for all intents and purposes, alone together at Crestley for better than a day."
"But he's been behaving like an old sobersides," Katherine protested. "He has done nothing improper. Nothing. And neither have I."
Lady Alison reached over and gripped her goddaughter's fingers. "I believe you, Kate. But I'm not the one who matters. It is the rest of the ton who will judge."
"If they believe that anything has happened, then they are a great gab of muttonheads, and I don't care what they might think." With that, she rose and left the room.
So her godmother thought that she had been ruined. If that was the case, and society would no longer accept her, then she would simply remain at Crestley Hall, though the notion of staying there, alone and without Nicholas to talk to her and to make her laugh, wasn't nearly as appealing as it had been two months earlier. But there still were several days before they all planned to return to London. Perhaps they could figure something out in time. They had been successful with their schemes thus far.
The Black Duke's Prize Page 13
