“Please sit down, Kate. It is bad enough that I am seated while you are standing. Please don’t compound my bad manners by continuing to stand.”
She looked around for a chair.
“On the bed, Kate. We have already broken the rules of Society. You might as well be seated next to me as we eat.”
“I shall do so only because I fear you won’t stop haranguing me if I refuse.”
“If you acquiesce to all my wishes, Kate, I shall be a happy man.” He smiled at her, even as he poured more brandy for her.
“In your dreams, sir,” she said, before taking another small sip.
“It is where you were last night,” he said. “And I can only imagine you will be there tonight.”
She tried to remember he was a practiced rake and phrases like that rolled off his tongue with ease. But, she could not imagine a woman who was wholly immune to him. She cleared her throat. “I should make up my bed for the night.”
“There is no other bed.”
“I shall either sleep on one of those chairs,” she said, eyeing the wooden chairs and knowing she wouldn’t sleep at all. “Or on the floor.”
“You will sleep in this bed,” he said.
“That is out of the question.”
“I am a gentleman, Kate.”
“And I am a lady. An unmarried lady would never share a gentleman’s bed, no matter what the circumstances.”
“Then I shall sleep on the floor.”
“I cannot allow that.”
“You have a lot of absolutes, Kate.”
“You have barely scratched the surface of my absolutes.”
“I will scratch any part of you I can reach.”
Lord help her, but the man was enticing. “Might I remind you that you almost died earlier tonight?”
“All the more reason to celebrate being alive.”
“You do not look all that well.” Though he was flirting madly, he did seem to be tiring.
“I’ve been better,” he admitted, as he tried to sit up further, but failed.
She tucked the blankets around him once again, then stoked the fire. When she returned to the bed, she saw him lift the bottle of brandy with trembling hands.
“Permit me,” she said softly, as she took it from him then held it to his mouth. She had never taken a good long look at his lips before because that would have been rude. But under the circumstances, she felt perfectly justified in doing so. They were full and looked quite firm. As his mouth parted to take a drink she caught a glimpse of his tongue.
Her reverie was broken by his response.
“Thank you,” he said.
She couldn’t help brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. “You are as weak as a kitten.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “It is not the greatest compliment you could bestow upon a man.”
“I wasn’t aware my purpose was to compliment you, my lord.”
“Stop ‘my lording’ me. Though I suppose, at the moment, I am not at my usual strength.” He rubbed his head where the ball had grazed it.
She was reminded of the urgency of their situation, though she didn’t wish to worry him. “Would it make you feel better if I said I once had a kitten who could fiercely attack a skein of yarn?”
“I fear you’ll tell me I’m the yarn in that story.”
“Absolutely not, sir,” she said, laughing. “Though I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the yarn was made of the finest wool.” She knew she was nattering, but the worry was mounting.
“Have you always been so independent, Kate?” the earl asked, his words slurred just the slightest.
“Oscar was the best of guardians. He raised me to not only think for myself but to take care of myself as best as I was able.”
“He sounds like a wise and caring man. I would’ve liked to have met him. I daresay thinking for oneself is something both men and women should do more of.”
“I fear too many women allow men to do their thinking for them.”
“I am afraid we live in a society where men are expected to make most of the decisions.”
“Perhaps, but a woman should at least have her own opinion of those decisions, just as she should have opinions about any number of things. You’re smiling, Nick.” And she was relieved to see it. “I suspect you are about to make a jest at my expense. I believe most earls look for a countess with great beauty, but not much in the way of opinions.”
“I don’t know about most earls, though I have a feeling your blanket assumption is fairly accurate. I can tell you that while my brother originally sought a wife who was from a wealthy family, he married a lady who had no money and no shortage of opinions.”
“And you believe he made a mistake.” Which was most vexing.
“On the contrary, I believe it was the best decision he ever made. Ava is marvelous. As is Irene, who is married to my brother, James. And none of my other sisters, Winifred, Rose and Letty, is afraid to speak her mind. I would have it no other way.”
“But what about your countess? Wouldn’t she be expected to throw balls and plan meals for three hundred and dine with royalty? I cannot imagine there is much room for pert opinions on such occasions.”
“I wouldn’t wish a dinner with royalty on anyone. As for the balls and meals for three hundred, I suppose there is a certain amount of that which goes on, but it would never be the focal point of the life I’d like to lead with my countess.”
“Yet, I am certain there are dozens, if not hundreds of young ladies of the ton who would be only too happy to do all of those things you require of a countess.”
“No doubt. But it has very little to do with me, Nicholas Chilcott, and everything to do with my title. My ideal wife wouldn’t give a fig about being a countess and, perhaps, would prefer me if I were not an earl.”
Kate wasn’t certain what to say. His description fit her perfectly. Because while she had no desire – or training – to become a countess, she had come to admire the man very much. But he couldn’t mean her, could he? She didn’t know how many ladies of the ton would rather be Mrs. Chilcott rather than the Countess of Layton, but she had a feeling the number wasn’t large.
Before she could speculate too much further, she realized he didn’t look well at all. She didn’t know if it was the head wound or the brandy, but the Earl of Layton was not himself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kate banked the fire so that it would provide warmth in the rapidly cooling hut but not set it ablaze while they slept. She had no idea what time it was but looked forward to dawn so she could ride out to locate a surgeon for Nick. Sleep was a powerful restorative, but one never knew the effects of a head injury. The gunshot hadn’t wounded him seriously, but the blow to the head, compounded with his fall from the horse, were worrisome.
But for now, she needed to find a place to sleep, preferably close enough that she could check on him throughout the night. She looked askance at the wooden chairs. She wondered if the floor might be more comfortable, though it certainly wouldn’t be very clean.
“Kate, you must sleep next to me on the bed.”
She almost jumped at the sound of his voice. She thought he had fallen asleep. And just the thought of sharing a bed with him was enough to make her jump again.
He continued. “Before you argue about propriety, I shall point out that no one will ever know.”
“I will know, sir.”
“Yes, but I hardly think you’d be one to gossip about it. Besides, as you rather inelegantly stated, I am weak as a kitten. Certainly a good swat on my backside should be enough to dissuade me if I forget myself.”
“I am not about to touch your backside for any reason!”
“What a pity. Very well, a gentle swat on the nose should get the point across.”
“The bed does look a bit more appealing than the chairs or the floor,” said Kate reluctantly.
“Don’t get your hopes up because the bed isn’t all that great, either. But it is better tha
n the alternatives. I promise to stay on my side.”
The bed appeared to be shrinking as she stared at it. “Is there a side? There seems to be just the middle.”
“Kate, please.”
“Very well,” she said reluctantly. “I will sleep next to you.”
“You sound like someone about to have a tooth pulled. I assure you it’ll be more pleasant than that.”
“I am not looking for it to be pleasant. I only need it sufficiently comfortable to allow me to sleep. I need to be well-rested to lead us home tomorrow.” Or to fetch a surgeon if he takes a turn for the worse.
“An eminently smart solution, just as I would expect from you. Now, if you will kindly take your place, we can both get to sleep.”
He thought it was as easy as that, did he? This was the first time Kate had ever shared a bed with a man, even if it was just to be sleeping side-by-side. But she tried not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how nervous she was as she gathered all the blankets she could find and put them on the bed. Then she carefully got under them on her side, though there wasn’t much room. The bed could barely sleep one with room to spare. Two would have them touching all down the side. Fortunately, the bed was only six inches off the ground, so if she rolled off, she wouldn’t have far to go. She was about to ask him to move over, when she heard a slight snoring sound and realized he was already asleep.
Which was just the tiniest bit insulting.
She carefully rolled on her side and tried her best to fall asleep.
After an hour or so, she miraculously did.
* * *
Kate was awakened some time later by shaking. The fire was but a dim glow and it took her a moment to remember where she was. She turned to find Nick shaking, shivering uncontrollably. She put her hand on his shoulder to awaken him, only to find it soaked in perspiration. She got up to stoke the fire and add more logs. She had hung their cloaks by the fire earlier and was relieved to find them warm and dry.
She carried them back to the bed. She pulled off the top blanket, which was just slightly damp. But the blankets beneath had been soaked through on his side.
“Lord Layton,” she said, trying to awaken him. “Sir, please wake up. Mr. Chilcott….Nicholas.” At the mention of his Christian name, he opened his eyes, but didn’t seem to see her. Even in the dim light she could see his glassy gaze.
“George,” he said. “I must see George and Francis. I must. They’re ill.”
“Shh, shh,” she said, trying to calm him. “You’re just having a bad dream.”
He tried to pull away from her, but she held on to him for fear he would hurt himself. “They’re dying,” he said. And Kate realized he was weeping. “They’re dying and I’ll be left all alone. Father blames me for not getting sick. I want to help.”
Kate could tell he was a long way away from the cottage. She pulled him closer. “Nick, please wake up.”
“I can’t. George and Francis are gone. And now I’m alone. I’m all alone.”
Kate’s heart broke to hear the sadness in his voice. She pulled him into her arms. “It’s all right. I’m here. You’re not alone.”
He was soaked with sweat and shivering. But he seemed to quiet as she held him. His breathing became more regular. He stopped shaking and crying. But she still had to get him warm and dry.
“Will you let me remove this wet nightshirt?” she asked him.
He looked at her, not quite comprehending the question. But he was calmer now and offered no resistance as she lifted the wet garment from him. Fortunately, the woolen leggings didn’t seem to be as damp as the night shirt, which had ridden up while he had been thrashing in bed. She could leave the leggings on – which was one small mercy. It was bad enough that his chest was uncovered, that she could feel his warm skin. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like for him to be completely unclothed next to her.
She could see little of his chest in the firelight, but what was revealed was enough to take her breath away. His shoulders sloped down and out from his neck. His chest was clearly defined and his stomach…his stomach was a work of art. She longed to touch him.
Suddenly she was on her back and this lovely, half-dressed man was lying more or less on top of her and kissing her neck.
“Nick!” she exclaimed, as she punched both of his shoulders, making him look up in confusion.
“Lolly? What’s wrong, lass? No one will miss their milk delivery this early.”
Lolly? Milk delivery? The fiend thought he was kissing a milkmaid! To be fair, he was clearly delirious. He still had the glassy stare. He was still burning with fever. He was also as handsome as ever.
“Lord Layton!” she said, as she scrambled out from beneath him. He made no move to stop her. He just looked bewildered by the action. Clearly Milkmaid Lolly had never done such a thing. “It is I, Kate!”
He looked at her. “Kate?”
“Yes! Kate from Weymouth. From the church archives.”
“What are you doing in my bed?” He was confused to find her there, but, judging from his smile, not disappointed. “And why are you still wearing your nightshirt?”
“We were both wearing a nightshirt until I removed yours.”
“Oh, really?” he said, as he began nuzzling her neck again.
“Nick! You said you’d be a gentleman! I realize you are fevered and not right in the head, but you must stop this!”
“Why must I be ‘not right in the head’ if I’m kissing you? If anything, I’d say I’m finally making sense.”
“Nick, listen to me.” She brushed the hair out of his eyes. “You have a fever. You need to sleep. Please.”
Perhaps he finally grasped what she was saying. Or mayhap he was simply too tired to argue. But he finally lay back down again.
“Good!” said Kate, wishing she had allowed him to kiss her neck for just a few moments more. Then she set about covering them both with the dry garments. Against her better judgment, she covered him with her body, to give him as much warmth as possible. He put his arm around her. She tensed, wondering if he would kiss her again. But after a moment, he slept once more.
She lay awake for another hour, relieved that his shivering had stopped. He didn’t speak again. And she heard no more cries for George and Francis. No more fears of being alone.
She’d never had brothers or sisters, but she knew very well what it was to be alone.
She realized she had more in common with the earl than she would have thought possible.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nick awoke with a blinding headache. Without opening his eyes, he moved his fingers to the right side of his head, then winced as he touched a tender spot. There was dried blood. Had he been in a fight? He was still in the fog of early morning as he tried to get his bearings. He was on a thin bed that felt like it was stuffed with gravel. The air in the room was cold, yet he was blessedly warm.
But it didn’t feel like it was the warmth of blankets. In fact…
He slowly opened his eyes to see Kate draped across him, sleeping. He was completely bare from the waist up, but he could feel woolen leggings which were scratching the dickens out of him. Kate was, unfortunately, completely covered in an oversized nightshirt. Her hair, however, had pulled loose and was spread out over both of them. He wanted nothing more than to feel the silk of it. But he didn’t want to wake her. Though he would like to know how they came to be in that intriguing position.
He vaguely remembered lying cold and wet in the road. He had been attacked and had passed out. When she’d found him, he had wondered if he might be dead and she an angel of mercy. She had somehow helped him onto a horse, then led them to this tiny cottage. But he wasn’t certain what had happened after that.
She was stirring now, which was a shame, since he would have been happy to have her lie on him for as long as she wished. He wondered how long it would take her to realize where she was and on whom she was lying.
She stretched, which he felt throughout his body. Pa
rticularly that portion covered by the scratchy wool. She brushed her hair back, then froze.
So it had taken her less than a minute to discover where she was. And on whom.
Then she sat upright and moved so far so fast, she fell off the bed.
“Oh!” she said, blushing a deep red.
“Good morning,” he said, thoroughly enjoying her reaction.
“I didn’t mean to….” She gestured toward him. “Sleep on top of you, but you were so cold last night. How do you feel today?”
“Quite chilled, so feel free to resume your position.”
She frowned at him. “I was quite worried about you last night.”
“And I very much appreciate that. If it makes you feel better, I have a terrible headache.”
“Which you might deserve from teasing me.”
“I woke up to find you using me as a mattress, which means you had a more comfortable surface than I did.”
“I did not use you as a mattress, I was merely trying to warm you.”
“And you did a beautiful job of it. You’re even warming me right now.”
“That will be enough of that, sir. And you should cover yourself.”
She was doing her best not to look at his chest, though she kept darting glances at it. He leaned back and put his hands under his head, giving her a better view of his arms, which he dutifully flexed. “If I remember correctly, I was fully clothed when I went to bed, yet here I am in a state of undress.”
“Only partial undress. Your….lower portion is still clothed.”
“And what a shame that is.” He had to grin even more when her blush somehow deepened. “Would you care to explain how I came to be in a state of undress?”
“Partial undress.”
“Partial undress.”
“You were delirious, sir. How do you know you didn’t take off your nightshirt on your own?”
“To be fair, I don’t know that. But it would make me feel so much better to know you had a hand in it.”
She sighed in a rather exasperated and delightful way. “Very well. I awoke to find you shivering and talking in your sleep.”
Always Believe in Love (Emerson Book 4) Page 11
