Scenting Scandal (Scandalous Siblings Series Book 2) by Suzi Love

Author:Suzi Love
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: earl, mystery romance, victorian london, lady detective, victorian england romance, mystery and love, romance historical romance, regency historical, railways, 1840s, mystery and romance, victorian historical romance, victorian mystery, mystery historical 1800s, london 1800s, regency 1800s, early victorian, regency era romance, regency romance series, regency england 1800s, regency mystery and romance, regency london romance, share trading, victorian era historical romance
Publisher: Suzi Love

Chapter Twelve

Richard slid down into position beside Laura, a small smile hovering around his mouth. If he had to be in this predicament, there was no one he’d prefer tending to him. Her skills as a home-healer were remarkable and he’d trust her with his life. Or in this case, his sight.

He heard cloth ripping and turned his head. “If my ears aren’t playing me false, you ripped your linen.”

“Just a frill from my petticoat. For a bandage.”

He tensed, forced himself to remain still. “Damnation. Of all the times to not to be able to see. To ease an injured man’s troubled mind, you might at least show mercy and describe your actions.”

She chuckled, then began to dribble water over his left eye.

“Describe how you tore your petticoat. Slowly. How high did you lift it? Were your ankles exposed?”

“Did I mention you’re incorrigible?”

“Several times. Now, continue with your trim ankles… encased in red silk stockings… with matching garters…” Her tinkle of laughter soothed him as much as the cool water she applied to his burning eyes.

“Your imagination, sir, does you credit.”

After her washing duties were complete, he felt a damp cloth placed over his closed eyelids, a gentle pacification to the increasing sting which had begun to worry him. Permanent damage was unthinkable, and he’d no time to even consider the dreadful possibility in their present circumstances.

He issued instructions, and listened as she investigated the circumference of their dusty prison. As she worked her way around, foot by dusty foot, searching for a door and testing windows, she called back to him. A constant stream of typical Laura dialogue that he welcomed with open ears and a thankful heart. With her own fear of the dark, she’d understand better than anyone how this grated on his nature. How much he loathed being blocked from the light, forced to sit still for fear of stumbling into fallen debris and worsening his injury.

“Keep talking, please, so I know you’ve come to no harm.”

“The windows seem to be crisscrossed with bars. Barricaded from the outside. More than likely rusted.”

“Don’t try climbing too high and hurt yourself. Even we could shift one, it would be a long drop to the road outside.”

“Whoever owns this warehouse,” she called in an indignant voice, “should be ashamed. It’s falling to rack and ruin.”

His laughter rumbled up. “Should I point out the irony in that? Several blasts were set here not half an hour ago, my love. The most likely culprit being the owner. I don’t think upkeep weighs heavily on his mind.”

“Hers.”

He considered in silence, before calling back, “I assume you’re referring to Lady Hetherington.”

“Richard, tell me you’re not moving.”

“Goodness, what acute hearing. And yes, I shifted a crate directly behind me because I heard water. Perhaps there’s a pipe running into that barrel.”

“A pipe?”

He listened to the clatter of rubbish as she clambered over rubble to return to him and held his breath, waiting for a cry of distress, ready to go to her if she fell.

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