“How did your mother come to hear of these other women?”
“It was the talk of Society, she said.” A dark frown appeared between his eyes.
“Maybe it was only here, in the country, that he was unfaithful?” Sally tried to suppress a yawn and failed.
“That was not the impression I had of the situation.”
“Would you like me to make discreet enquiries when I return to Town?”
“I do not see how that would help. Not now my father is dead.”
“It might help you.” Sally touched her fingers gently against his cheek. “And your mother. I should have tried to be of more help these past few days,” she added guiltily, “instead of remaining in my bedchamber feeling sorry for myself.”
“No doubt you felt you had good reason, after I sent you away from the fire so ignominiously.” Nicholas was more than a little ashamed of his behavior that night.
Firstly for his response to discovering Sally’s innocence, and again when he had sent her packing after she had arrived at the Dower House, offering her help. His shock was his only excuse for the former, and he already feared for his mother’s life that night. He had not wanted Sally’s life being put at risk too.
Despite being so busy since the fire, Nicholas had still found time to occasionally wonder at his behavior. There had been other females there that night helping out: Mrs. Jackson, several of the maids. They too had been in danger, but he had not sent them away as he had Sally.
Or ignored them for the past three days.
Until he could not continue to do so any longer…
“I could spend some time sitting with your mother tomorrow?” Sally suggested now. “She might welcome a change of companion for a few hours.”
He grimaced. “Mrs. Jackson and Cousin Maud are not the most scintillating company.”
Sally laughed softly. “They might both welcome a few hours to themselves too.” She gave another yawn.
“I’ll see if my mother is up to new company tomorrow.” He tilted his head, his expression teasing. “Your tiredness now would seem to indicate that we should take a nap rather than make love again.”
Sally did feel so very sleepy. Too much so to offer a word of protest as Nicholas moved to lie down beside her, his arms holding her close against him as she rested her head on his chest and instantly fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 16
Whore!
This woman is a siren, luring Nicholas to her, encouraging him in licentious acts.
The two of us spoke in the hallway earlier, and Nicholas told me he intended only to take in the woman’s tea tray. But I followed him to her bedchamber, heard him lock the door behind him. He would never have done that if she had not tempted him to stay with her.
I had to know. Had to see the two of them together with my own eyes.
The door into her dressing room had been left unlocked, and it was the easiest thing in the world for me to enter her suite that way. Quietly. Stealthily. To then stand unobserved as I watched the two of them through the gap between the door and its frame.
Nicholas spanked her, and she liked it. He had his head between her thighs, and she liked that too. He ripped her gown in two, baring her breasts and thighs, and I could see the excitement glistening in her eyes. He ordered her to touch herself whilst he undressed, and the harlot did so. He then proceeded to rut on her, time and time again, and she liked that even more. Even now, her body is covered in his seed.
Filthy harlot.
Listening to her moans and groans was disgusting.
Obscene.
She is obscene.
Nothing but a whore, tempting my Nicholas into such depraved behavior.
It will not continue.
She will not continue.
And once she is gone, Nicholas will return to me, and it will be as it has always been.
Just the two of us.
Chapter 17
Nicholas woke with a start, unsure what had woken him, but feeling disorientated for several moments. Until he recalled exactly where he was, and who the woman was lying beside him.
A naked woman who lay asleep and unmoving in his arms.
He lay back and simply enjoyed the experience for several minutes, a smile curving his lips as he thought of all the reasons for Sally’s exhaustion.
Despite his hours in the boxing ring in Town and his work about the estate when in the country, the muscles in his own body ached. In a most pleasurable way.
Making love with Sally had been unlike anything he had shared with any other woman. There had always been an inequality with the women of the demimonde with whom he usually chose to associate. They were there to be accommodating and cater to a gentleman’s whims, whatever they might be. Sally not only understood, she seemed to revel in the darker side of his nature.
She might just be the perfect woman. A lady within Society, and a siren in the bedchamber. And he wanted to keep her. Quite how he was going to do that once they were back in Town—
“Why is the door to your bedchamber lock— Oh!”
Nicholas turned his head on the pillow to look at the startled young woman standing in the doorway between the bedchamber and the dressing room. Sally’s maid. And possibly the reason he had woken a few minutes ago when she tried to open the door to the bedchamber and discovered it locked?
“I apologize, my lord.” The maid appeared completely flustered now, the red of her cheeks almost the same color as her hair.
“What time is it?” He frowned.
“Almost seven o’clock. I came to help my lady dress for dinner. I had not realized— Oh.” She quickly averted her gaze as Nicholas sat up and the sheets fell down about his waist, revealing his bared chest with its dusting of dark hair.
Nicholas paid little heed to her discomfort as he frowned down at Sally. She was sleeping so deeply that not even the arrival of her maid, or the conversation, seemed to have disturbed her.
His concern deepened to alarm as she remained unmoving. She was very pale, her breathing shallow, her eyes remaining closed as her head lolled to one side. Had their lovemaking hurt her in some way? Had he pushed her too hard and too fast? Was she unconscious—
“My lord…?” The maid—Rose?—was beside the bed now, her expression just as concerned as his own. “Is she—is she dead?” Her eyes were wide.
No, Sally was not dead, but her breathing was uneven and far too shallow. The pupils of her eyes were dilated when he lifted one of her lids to check. Nor did she awaken when Nicholas gave her a gentle shake. Or when he did it again, more forcefully, after receiving no response. Not even a groan of protest passed her lips, and Sally had never been averse to verbally making her feelings known to him.
Her dilated pupils alarmed him as much as her pallor. “Find your mistress’s robe and bring it to me,” he instructed briskly, waiting until the maid had hurried into the dressing room before climbing out of bed and quickly pulling on and fastening his pantaloons.
His gaze remained on Sally’s frightening stillness the entire time. What could be wrong with her? Had the intensity of their lovemaking damaged her in some way? Enough to have rendered her unconscious?
Those dilated pupils indicated another malaise entirely. It was almost as if she had taken too much of a sleeping draught or laudanum. It was only early evening, so he could not think she would have taken a sleeping draught, nor would he have thought her one of those excitable women in Society who indulged in laudanum.
“Thank you.” He took the robe from the maid when she returned. “Now go downstairs and have Barker send one of the footmen for the doctor immediately. The footman is to wait and bring the doctor back with him. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Brown eyes filled with tears as Rose continued to look down at her mistress. “What is wrong with her, do you suppose?”
“The doctor will be able to tell us more once he has examined her.” Nicholas looked at her pointedly.
“Will she recover?”
“Of course,” he assured with more briskness than truth. He had no idea whether or not Sally would or could be revived. How could he, when he had no idea what had put her in this unconscious state in the first place?
And the thought of losing her, when he had only just found her, turned his heart to ice.
“What are you waiting for?” He frowned at the maid, as she still seemed mesmerized by her mistress’s condition.
“I… I…”
“Go.”
The maid roused herself with effort before almost running across the bedchamber to unlock and then close the door, followed by the sound of her footsteps pounding down the hallway.
Nicholas wasted no time, once alone, in dressing the unresponsive Sally in her robe, before pulling her up onto her feet. His arm was high up under her arms as he began to walk her about the room, hoping the exercise would help dispel the effects of whatever was causing her present condition.
At first it was just Nicholas walking as he carried Sally along beside him. But after five minutes or so of this, she gave a protesting groan, her feet at least trying to gain purchase on the carpet, even though it was obvious she was unable to bear her own weight.
Encouraged by at last having some response where previously there had been none, Nicholas kept walking her as he waited the anxious minutes for the doctor to arrive.
Sally’s head was pounding so much, as she began to wake, she wasn’t sure she wished to continue. Her limbs felt weighed down, and when she tried to raise her eyelids, the brightness of the lit candles hurt her eyes and caused her to wince.
“At last you are awake.” Nicholas suddenly loomed over her, dark hair falling forward as he gazed down at her.
Sally blinked several times before focusing on him properly, the light still far too bright for her comfort.
Nicholas’s hair was tousled, as if he had been running his hands through it, and there were lines of tiredness beside his eyes and mouth, but he was at least dressed in a shirt, waistcoat, pantaloons, and boots, whereas she… She was still lying in her bed, where the two of them had made love together for hours this afternoon.
Was it still this afternoon? Her gaze moved about the room. The drawn curtains and lit candles were an indication that it was dark outside. Was it still even the same day the two of them had made love?
And why did her head ache and her limbs feel as if they were made of lead instead of flesh and bone?
“The doctor said your symptoms are those of someone suffering from an overdose of laudanum. A dose that would have been lethal if not discovered in time.”
Sally turned back too quickly as Nicholas answered her unasked question, and was instantly assailed by an excruciating pain in her head, causing her to flinch and feel nauseated at the same time. Tears stung her eyes.
“The tears are a symptom of the laudanum too. Following on from the euphoria and unconsciousness,” he added tightly.
“I… But…” She tried to concentrate. “I have never taken laudanum in my life.”
He raised disapproving brows. “I found a bottle of it in your trunk.”
She gave a soft gasp. “What possible reason could you have for going through my trunk?”
His jaw tensed. “To ensure something like this did not happen again.”
“But… No, the bottle is not mine.” She shook her head in absolute denial and succeeded in causing herself yet more pain by the decisive movement. “Ask Rose. I do not take laudanum.”
Nicholas straightened. “Your maid has already told me she had never seen that bottle before last night.”
“There you are, then.” She nodded.
“She was exhausted at the time, after the hours it took the two of us to rid your body of that infernal drug.” His mouth was a thin line as he began a restless pacing of the room. “I took it that she was defending you.”
“I do not need anyone to defend me! I did not take any laudanum, and that is an end to it.” She eyed him challengingly. “Where is Rose?”
“I sent her to bed hours ago, once we were sure you were only sleeping rather than unconscious.”
Sally gave a pained wince. “And how did you do that?”
He breathed deeply. “The two of us walked you until you were capable of drinking, then poured pints of water down your throat until you were violently sick. We then kept you awake long enough to pour more down you, to be completely sure you really were cleansed of the stuff.”
It sounded horrible. And humiliating too, to have been in such a debilitating state in front of Nicholas. “What time is it?”
“Shortly after two o’clock in the morning.”
It had only been five o’clock in the afternoon when she and Nicholas fell asleep. Could he be telling the truth? Had she been unconscious all those hours from the effects of laudanum?
How could she?
She truly had never taken any of that vile concoction, had seen the effects of it on other women in Society who claimed it “settled their nerves.” She had also witnessed how those ladies became addicted to the foul brew.
And yet Nicholas insisted she felt the way she did now from drinking too much of it.
“The laudanum is not mine, nor did I willingly take any of it,” Sally repeated firmly as she pushed herself up to sit back against the pillows behind her, heartily grateful when she saw she was dressed in one of her white cotton nightgowns to cover her earlier nakedness. “If, as you say, I am suffering from imbibing too much of it, then I did so without my knowledge.”
Nicholas stilled his pacing, shoulders tense. “What are you saying…?”
Sally’s golden gaze met his unwaveringly. “I am sure my meaning is quite clear. Someone else is responsible for giving me the laudanum, either accidentally or deliberately.” She gave a pained frown at it being the latter.
“And how would they have done that?”
“I would like an answer to that question too.” Just as she would like to know what possible reason anyone could have for attempting to kill her. Moreover, it would have to be someone within this household—
Mrs. Jackson!
The housekeeper had been hostile toward Sally from the beginning, and no matter what Nicholas said to the contrary, the other woman also seemed to feel a proprietary claim toward him.
To the extent of killing the woman currently in his life and sharing her bed with him?
It seemed an extreme measure to go to in order to eliminate a rival for Nicholas’s affections. An unbalanced measure, considering Sally might now be dead if not for Nicholas’s intervention.
If he had not been in my bed beside me when I fell into unconsciousness.
Nicholas had never known anything but complete honesty from Sally, sometimes too much so, and she was now insisting that someone else was responsible for giving her the lethal dose of the opiate?
If that was true, then logically it meant that same “someone else” must also have placed the bottle of laudanum in her trunk. For him or someone else to find after Sally was dead from consuming a lethal dose of it?
It sounded incredulous. Unbelievable.
And yet, if Sally claims that to be the case, how can I doubt her? Her honesty is one of the things I—
“We have not known each other for very long, Nicholas,” Sally spoke evenly. “But I trust you know me well enough to know I am not the sort of woman who needs to resort to an artificially induced euphoria. Nor would I tolerate the depression that often follows. I believe both of those things happen after the taking of laudanum?”
Now that Sally was out of danger and Nicholas was able to think beyond the fear of her dying, followed by the anger when he found the laudanum in her luggage, he was able to rationalize his thoughts. Not only would Sally not knowingly take such a drug, but her nature was such that she certainly wouldn’t feel the need to lie about it if she had.
“Who would have done such a thing?” he wondered out loud. “And why?”
Sally had no answer to either of
those questions, was only grateful that Nicholas seemed to at last be giving some thought to the possibility of a third party being responsible for her earlier unconsciousness.
A third party who had wanted her dead.
Chapter 18
“I was that worried about you, my lady.” Rose fussed the following morning as Sally bathed before dressing. Much against her maid’s wishes; Rose was of the opinion—and not averse to voicing it—that Sally should remain in bed today. She had arrived in the bedchamber almost an hour ago with a cup of weak tea, insisting Sally must drink some of it before even attempting to get out of bed.
Admittedly, Sally was still feeling a little weak this morning. But she was no less determined, for all that, to go downstairs and break her fast. She wanted whoever had tried to harm her last night to see they had not succeeded. That they had failed in their attempt to kill her.
In their attempt to kill me.
Every time Sally so much as thought of it, she felt ill all over again. What reason could anyone at Oxbridge Park have for wanting to hurt her? She knew no one here, nor did they know her, and she had kept to her bedchamber for the past three days, spoken only to Rose and Nicholas—
“As for His Lordship…!” Rose gave a pointed glance as Sally stepped out of the hip bath and the maid immediately wrapped her in a warmed towel. “He was beside himself. Not that I’m surprised, after finding the two of you—”
“I do not wish to talk about that,” Sally cut in hastily, having learned from Nicholas how Rose had walked into the bedchamber yesterday and found the two of them in bed together.
Not that Sally was ungrateful; without Rose’s intervention, Nicholas might not have woken in time to save her. Unfortunately, that made it no less embarrassing for her to have to face her maid this morning, with the knowledge of that intimacy between them.
An intimacy that had been all too obvious once Sally removed her nightgown and revealed the marks upon her body. Her skin was red and scratched in several places from the scrape of Nicholas’s stubble, her nipples were a much rosier color than normal, and as she stepped into the hip bath, there was a visible discoloration at the top of her thigh where she remembered Nicholas sucking her flesh and marking her.
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