Dark Hero; A Gothic Romance (Reluctant Heroes Book 1) by Lily Silver

Author:Lily Silver [Silver, Lily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-04-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty Five

Donovan instructed her to remain in bed and relax.

Elizabeth couldn’t relax. He said he’d be back in a few moments.

Surely he wouldn’t hurt the captain. Rawlings was his longtime friend.

Oh, the poor captain. She threw off the covers and rose from the bed, pacing as she worried for Rawlings’ well being. But--he asked her to become his—it was unthinkable!

“I could provide for you to live comfortably under my protection.” Her face burned as she recalled the illicit offer. How could she bear to face that man again?

She couldn’t, she told herself as she limped about her husband’s suite. She couldn’t face the man again without wilting from humiliation.

And Donovan had heard everything. He overheard the indecent proposal, and there had been murder in her husband’s eyes when he left.

Elizabeth raised a jittery hand to her strangled chest. She couldn’t bear to see that man again, but she didn’t wish him to be maimed or killed for his indiscretion, either. With Donovan’s temper, the outcome could be none other.

*******

Donovan sank down in the Queen Anne’s chair in the salon, cradling his swelling cheek with a fresh piece of beef that was solicitously retrieved from the cellar by the new butler.

“Perhaps a drink would steady your nerves, my lord? I believe port is your preference.”

He was coming to appreciate why Elizabeth found Giles appealing. The man was the epitome of decorous concern. “Yes. I would also have a word with you as the head of the household staff. I’m disappointed with the behavior of the maids in the courtyard yesterday.”

The butler handed him the libation with a sour face. “No more so than myself, my lord.”

“What would have happened if I had not been there to take care of Elizabeth?”

“I would have attended her, sir. When I was a lower footman in England, my employer’s son suffered epilepsy. We were all given instruction in how to care for Master Percival. I shall instruct the staff to be more helpful in the future; unless you prefer to speak with them, sir?”

“No, you may deal with it.” Donovan wanted to point out that his wife did not have epilepsy, the severity of her head injury merely brought on similar symptoms. It seemed a weak argument, even to him. Only time would determine if the seizures were transient, or if she was indeed cursed with the unfortunate illness. “Inform them I will not tolerate whispering about the incident. My lady does not remember it and I’ll not have her hearing exaggerated accounts from the servants. It would frighten her unnecessarily.”

“You may depend upon me, sir.” The stolid servant bowed and withdrew.

Donovan held the cold steak against his cheek and sipped his port. He looked about the pristine salon that had been recently painted a deep, sunny yellow. Sunbeams streamed through the windows, banishing the prior gloom. Elizabeth was responsible for the pleasant changes. She exposed this old, neglected house to the healing rays of the sun, just as her presence in his life opened the cold, dark tomb that had been his heart.

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