A Rake's Redemption

by Cynthia Breeding

  She’d think about that later.

  She’d prefer to eat the truffle immediately, but she had the soup first while it was hot and the bread still soft and warm, although she wasn’t about to waste one bite of the delicious buttery, heavily sugared chocolate. Then she noticed Elsie eyeing the oversize truffle, too. “Would you like some? I can share.”

  “Oh, no.” Elsie put her hands behind her back. “I couldn’t. If his lordship thought—”

  “He will nae find out,” Inis said.and used her fork to slice off a portion. “Go ahead. Take it.”

  “That is too much,” Elsie said and then looked behind her before she came closer. “But I might just take a pinch.”

  “Whatever ye like,” Inis replied and watched as the maid carefully swiped a finger along the edge of the truffle, breaking off a bit and sticking it in her mouth.

  “That is all ye want?”

  Elsie nodded as she savored her taste. “It is enough.”

  Inis didn’t argue. She’d almost forgotten how delicious chocolate could be. This truffle had especially dark chocolate, slightly bitter, but a nice balance to the sugary glaze on top. She finished it off all too soon.

  “I think I ate too much,” she said as Elsie took the tray. “I feel like I could sleep forever.”

  “You probably should rest now,” Elsie said. “I’ll take the tray down and…”

  The maid’s last words were blurred as Inis closed her eyes and drifted into silence.

  …

  “Where is Inis?” Alex asked Jameson the next morning when he went to the stable to take Xenos for a gallop in the park.

  The stallion needed a workout, but Alex was also using that as an excuse for not allowing the filly—and Inis—to come along. After her fall yesterday, she probably had bruises that would hurt bouncing in the saddle. Alex grinned to himself. His cock started to stand to attention at the thought of examining where those bruises might be, and he pushed it—the thought, not his cock—aside. He hoped Inis had a good night’s rest.

  “I haven’t seen her this morning,” Jameson answered as he led Xenos out.

  Alex frowned. “It is thirty past nine o’clock. She has not come out?”

  Jameson shook his head. “One of the stable boys took care of feeding Goldie.”

  That was strange. Elsie had told him last night that Inis had wanted to see Goldie and make sure the horse understood the accident was not her fault. Elsie had nearly rolled her eyes when she said it, but Alex knew how strongly Inis felt about such things. How very odd that she hadn’t been out here first thing this morning.

  “Don’t saddle Xenos just yet,” Alex said as he turned back toward the house. “I want to check on something.”

  Not wanting to walk all the way around to the front, he went in through the kitchen door. Mrs. Olsen turned to him in surprise. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Have you seen In—Miss O’Brien this morning?”

  “No,” the cook said. “I thought she might be sleeping in after yesterday’s accident.”

  She probably was, but he wanted to make sure. He could hardly go up to the fourth floor and barge into her bedchamber without causing gossip among the servants.

  “Would you have Elsie go check on her?”

  “Elsie is feeling a bit under the weather this morning,” Mrs. Olsen replied. “She said she cast up her accounts last night, so Mrs. Bradley told her to stay abed.”

  “One of the other maids then?”

  “Mrs. Bradley’s got them all cleaning rooms.” She looked at one of the young girls who’d stopped chopping vegetables to listen to the exchange. “Annie could go up and check.”

  Before he could even nod, the girl grinned and was gone, obviously eager to please. Alex helped himself to an apple from the bowl on the counter. He could share it with Xenos and Goldie later. He turned at what sounded like a herd of horses descending the servants’ steps. The hair at his nape prickled as Annie burst into the kitchen, her eyes round as an owl’s and her face pale in spite of her mad dash.

  Mrs. Olsen frowned. “What—”

  “’Tis… Miss… O’Brien,” Annie said, gasping for air. “She ain’t movin’. I think she’s dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex bounded up the back stairs, taking them two at a time, bracing himself for something he didn’t want to see. Lord Almighty. Had Inis been more seriously hurt than the physician had thought? Alex would never forgive himself… He rushed through the door and stopped in his tracks.

  Inis lay on her back, the sheet covering everything but her face. She was pale, but at least her lips weren’t blue, nor were her eyes open and staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

  He moved closer to the bed and felt for a pulse on her slender neck. He nearly panicked when he didn’t detect it, but he moved his fingers and finally picked up a faint beat. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. She was alive, but her skin was cold. He shook her shoulder gently but got no response. No moan. No groan. Not even a little twitch. He turned to where Mrs. Olsen hovered in the doorway with the housekeeper and his butler behind her.

  “Fetch Baxter,” he told Evans and turned to the women. “I want blankets and warm bricks.”

  “Right away,” Mrs. Bradley said.

  Alex turned back to Inis after they’d gone. He moved the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed, lifting her into his arms to warm her. Her head fell against his shoulder, and he inhaled the faint scent of heather soap that still lingered in her hair. Very gently, he kissed the purplish bruise on her forehead.

  “My sweet Inis,” Alex whispered. “Do not leave me.”

  An emotion stirred deep inside him that he hadn’t felt for nearly two years. An emotion he thought had died with Amelia’s betrayal. He’d resolved never to care for another person so deeply again, but apparently his hardened heart had begun to soften.

  He thought he felt Inis’s head move a bit, but it was probably only his own shoulder twitching since she didn’t stir. “Hold on, my love.”

  Alex drew her closer and did something he hadn’t done in a long time—he prayed.

  …

  This place… There was no light or sound where she was. She drifted weightlessly in the darkness, her feet not touching a floor nor her hands a wall. Nothingness surrounded her, void of any sensation. Where was she? Did it really matter? Her mind seemed not to care…it only wanted to sleep.

  But something was intruding, disturbing her rest. Shattering her dream state. Jarring her. She waved a hand feebly to combat the nuisance. At least she thought she did, but whatever was attacking her didn’t stop. The pitch-black began to fade to gray as garbled sound pricked her brain like sharp needles. A tiny dot of white light began to grow in the distance. She felt oddly drawn to it.

  Do not leave me.

  Slowly, Inis struggled through the lethargy. Her limbs began to feel heavy once again and she became aware of her heart beating. She opened her eyes slightly for a moment. Hazy figures wavered over her like ghosts in a cemetery on Samhain. Or perhaps the faeries had come to take her to their Otherworld. But she didn’t want to go. There was something she had to do… She couldn’t remember what…

  Hold on, my love.

  “Inis. Can you hear me?”

  The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Inis, open your eyes again.”

  She felt them flutter of their own accord. This time, the wobbly figures settled in place as her vision cleared somewhat. Her gaze drifted from one to the other. Alex. The physician. Mrs. Bradley, Mrs. Olsen, and Elsie.

  “My…head…hurts.”

  “Thank God,” Alex said.

  Inis frowned. “Ye are glad my head hurts?”

  “No. I mean, yes.” Alex then quickly added, “If it hurts, it means you are alive. I thought…that is…”

  “We are glad you are finally awake,” Mrs. Bradley said.

  “What…happened? I doona remember…”

  “The bump on your he
ad must have been worse than I surmised,” the doctor said. “When you said you didn’t lose consciousness after your fall from the horse yesterday, I thought you would just have a bad bruise” He paused and looked thoughtful. “There is a theory, not proven, that the brain can swell and cause the patient to lose consciousness hours later. That must have been what happened to you.”

  “Will Inis be all right now?” Alex asked.

  “I hope so,” Dr. Baxter replied. “As I said, we know very little about these things.” The physician reached for his bag and stuffed a few items into it. “Sitting up might help.”

  Alex took a look at the one straight-backed chair and grimaced. “Have Evans bring something comfortable in here,” he said to Mrs. Bradley.

  Inis started to push herself up, but the room began to spin. Alex moved quickly to lift her. Keeping one arm behind her back, he plumped pillows behind her. “That will do until another chair gets here.”

  “Thank ye.”

  Alex seemed reluctant to release her, and she didn’t want to let go, but as the room stopped moving, her mind cleared, too. Besides the people in the room, several of the maids hovered in the hallway. She put her hands in her lap, and Alex straightened as though he were suddenly aware of their audience, too.

  Alex looked at the group. “Mrs. Olsen, would you please fetch some broth? And I suspect the maids need to get back to work as well?”

  “Of course. Right away.”

  Inis turned to Dr. Baxter as the room and hallway cleared. “Ye must think I am the most accident-prone person ye ever met. First the spider bite, then falling down the stairs, now this. I doona ken what is wrong with me.”

  “Most of my accident-prone patients simply require smelling salts.” The physician smiled at her. “In spite of the incidents, you have a rather hardy constitution, Miss O’Brien.”

  “’Tis what my father used to say.” Inis turned to Alex. “I would like to see Goldie later today.”

  He frowned. “I do not know—”

  “She’ll think I am angry with her if I doona talk to her.”

  “Who is Goldie?” Dr. Baxter asked.

  “The horse I was riding yesterday,” Inis said.

  The doctor raised a brow. “And you think you need to talk with the animal?”

  Inis nodded carefully, not wanting the room to start spinning again. “She’ll think I blame her for what happened.”

  His face took on a look of concern. “Animals do not think. Perhaps your mind is not quite clear after all.”

  From behind him, Elsie made an unintelligible sound and Inis grimaced. “Ye doona understand.”

  Dr. Baxter continued to study her. “It is not reasonable to converse with a horse, Miss O’Brien.”

  “Miss O’Brien seems to have special skills with animals,” Alex said.

  The other man looked skeptical as he turned to leave. “Be sure to call me if she takes any other fanciful notions—”

  “Rest assured, I will take note of any fanciful notions that may enter Miss O’Brien’s head,” Alex said gravely.

  But Inis saw him smile before he turned and walked the physician to the door.

  …

  “I am going to be a raving idiot if I am imprisoned in this room any longer,” Inis said to Alex the third morning after the incident.

  “You are not imprisoned,” Alex said as he put a breakfast tray down on the small table next to where she sat. “I’m simply ensuring nothing disturbs your rest.”

  Inis grimaced. “If ye want me to be undisturbed, ye should tell Mrs. Bradley and Mrs. Olsen to stop bustling about me all day. I am nae a bairn in need of a mother.”

  Alex smiled and pulled up the other chair. She was beginning to sound more like herself. “I think they enjoy coddling you.”

  “I’ve nae need to be coddled. Or cooped up inside this room.”

  “The doctor said you were to do nothing strenuous for a few days.”

  Inis practically snorted. “The only thing strenuous I’ve done was get out of bed and sit in this chair. And Elsie tries to help me with that.”

  “That’s because I asked Mrs. Bradley to assign Elsie as your personal maid while you recover.”

  Inis stared at him, and he was quite sure it was not with appreciation.

  “I work for ye,” she said. “What will the other servants think if I’m assigned a maid?”

  “It does not really matter what the others think,” Alex said. “As we discussed, you are no longer known as my groom. That was a jest. You have become a houseguest.”

  That comment evidently didn’t meet with Inis’s approval, either, since the stare turned into a glare.

  “Only for the purpose of fitting in with the ton so your scheme will be successful.” Inis nearly spit the words. “The servants here ken what I am. I doona want to give myself airs.”

  Alex tilted his head to study her. “Actually, that is probably exactly what you should do.”

  “Are ye daft?”

  Alex managed to keep his lips from twitching. “You did quite well just now.”

  A look of confusion crossed Inis’s face. “What do ye mean?”

  “You just asked me if I were daft.” Alex assumed the haughty posture his pompous-ass brother used. “You dared to speak so to an aristocrat.”

  Inis’s eyes grew round and pink spread across her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or angry. He had simply meant to…

  “Ye are correct, your lordship.”

  Ah. Angry.

  He relaxed his stance and grinned at her. She didn’t smile back. “I was merely trying to point out that most…people…would not use that tone of voice or pose that question “

  “Ye meant females would nae ask such.”

  “I cannot recollect any that have.” Alex’s grin widened. “Most are rather complimentary, now that I think on it.”

  She huffed a breath and reached for the teapot to pour some tea. “Ye might be a wee bit full of yourself.”

  Alex laughed out loud. “You might be a wee bit more genteel in your criticism of me, Miss O’Brien.”

  She colored again. “I should nae have said that.”

  “Do not apologize.” He sobered. “I like the fact you speak your mind. You have no idea of what a rare trait that is for women of the ton.”

  “Which proves I am nae a member of the ton.”

  “Thank God for that,” Alex replied. “You have to act like one at George’s ball, though, which is why I suggested you practice assuming airs, as you put it.”

  Inis frowned. “I doona want to treat the other servants like that.”

  Alex grew thoughtful. “Perhaps we can arrange for you to practice elsewhere.”

  Inis stopped with her teacup half raised to her mouth. “Where? Caroline’s?”

  “No. I was thinking…” He paused for a moment. “Since you feel ‘imprisoned,’ perhaps an outing is in order.”

  Inis set down the cup. “Aye. We could take Goldie to the park—”

  “Not Goldie or the park. I was thinking of a brief ride in the country to a little inn that serves a substantial high tea. It’s quite the place to see and be seen, and every person who works there expects the clientele to have airs. In fact, they are nearly as snooty about serving commoners as some aristos are about associating with them.”

  “It does nae sound like a pleasant place.”

  Alex shrugged. “It would be a perfect place for you to practice without stepping on the toes of our servants. And we really do need to practice a bit with the ball being next week.” When Inis gave him a dubious look, he added. “Would you rather attend a soiree or rout? I could—”

  “Nae.” Inis waved her hand so quickly she nearly spilled her tea. “A ride in the country sounds much better.”

  Alex stood to leave. “I will arrange it for this afternoon then.”

  …

  As Alex helped Inis on to the bench of the cabriolet after lunch, he looked up at the sky. Inis followed his ga
ze. A few patches of blue could be seen through the cloud-laden sky. “Do ye think it will rain?”

  “Quite possibly,” Alex replied. “Perhaps I should switch carriages and take the landau instead.”

  “I doona want to be cooped up inside a carriage,” Inis said emphatically. “I want to enjoy the countryside.” The landau used four horses and required a coachman. Inis really didn’t want any of Alex’s servants watching her play the aristocrat. “Besides, Jameson said this gelding needs more practice in the traces.”

  “Even so, the cabriolet is open,” Alex said. “You’ll get wet if it rains.”

  “I will nae melt. Besides, we have oilskins, and ye said we are nae going that far.”

  “About an hour’s ride. A little less in this gig.” He looked at the sky again. “We can probably make it, although we could wait until tomorrow—”

  “Nae.” Inis was practically bouncing on the seat. Three days inside a small room had been enough. She didn’t want to delay any longer. “It will probably rain tomorrow, too. This is London, ye ken.”

  “If you are sure.”

  “Aye.” That came out a little louder than she’d intended, and the young boy holding the bridle gave her a startled look. “I think we should get started, my lord,” she said in a lowered voice

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “As you wish, Miss O’Brien.” He stepped up and sat beside her on the bench, unwinding the reins from the handle of the brake, and releasing it. He nodded to the stable lad. “Tell Jameson not to wait for our return. I will take care of the horse myself.”

  The boy nodded and scampered away as Alex flicked the reins across the horse’s rump and they ambled down the drive.

  Once they had crossed the Thames and gotten past Battersea, the city fell away, eventually turning into still-fallow fields and meadows where grass was turning green.

  Inis gave Alex a sideways glance as he put the gelding through his paces. Since her latest accident, he’d been attentive, but in a formal way. He always made sure Elsie was there when he visited, or else he left the door properly ajar. It was hard to believe she’d thought he’d held her close, and that she’d heard him whisper not to leave. Maybe she hadn’t. In that fog-like place in which she’d drifted, perhaps she had imagined it. Still, watching his arm muscles flex and his strong hands maneuvering the reins, it wasn’t hard to remember how they’d felt on her. Had it been real?