Smuggler's Lady by Jane Feather

Author:Jane Feather [Feather, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Bright sunshine filled the room when Merrie next opened her eyes. Everything was unfamiliar from the contours of the mattress beneath her to the throb of her thigh. She lay for a moment, blinking as if to dispel the disorientation. Memory returned in a rush, and with it the forlorn sense that something was lacking. It took but a minute to realize that her body was missing the warmth of the arms that had held her throughout sleep. She was alone in the big bed but not in the room as she realized when she struggled to sit up.

“Nan!” Meredith stared at the familiar figure who had no business in this bedchamber.

Nan turned from the armoire where she appeared to be hanging what looked like one of Merrie’s gowns, only, of course, it couldn’t be. “So, you’re awake, are you?” She bustled over to the bed, her lips set in a disapproving line. “You’ve really gone and done it this time, girl. If his lordship has saved you from the consequences of that piece of folly, then you are luckier than you deserve.”

“What do you do here, Nan?” Meredith made no attempt to defend herself, needing what energy she had for enterprises that might hold out hope for success.

“I am here to look after you, of course. Although, to be sure, I don’t know why I should take the trouble. I’ll fetch you some tea. That nice Sergeant Walter just brought up a tray.”

Meredith began to wonder if she were going quite mad. How could she and Nan take up residence in Rutherford’s bedchamber, needing tea and food and hot water, without the Perrys knowing about it? And if they knew ... The opening door interrupted this confusing chain of thought.

“How is she, Nan?” It was Rutherford’s voice, light and charming, addressing the elderly woman as if he had known her all his life.

“Take a look for yourself, my lord. She’s awake at least,” Nan replied with easy familiarity.

Damian came over to the bed, smiling. “Good morning, my little adventuress.” He laid a hand on her brow, then looked anxiously at Nan. The skin beneath his fingers was hot.

“Don’t you put yourself in a pucker, my lord,” Nan reassured. “It’s only to be expected. A quiet day in bed and it’ll be down by this evening, you mark my words.”

“But I cannot stay here in bed all day!” Merrie wailed, pushing the covers away impatiently. “I must go home at once—”

Damian caught her hards in a hard grip, silencing with a stern look the voice that was beginning to rise alarmingly. “I told you last night that I hold the reins,” he said evenly. “If you attempt to take the bit between your teeth, Merrie Trelawney, you will answer to me.”

Meredith, to her own disgust and Damian’s consternation, burst into tears.

“Let her cry it out,” Nan advised placidly. “Overwrought she is, and more than a little weak, I’ll be bound. But that doesn’t mean you’re to give in to her, my lord.

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