The Duke's Undoing by G.G. Vandagriff

Author:G.G. Vandagriff [Vandagriff, G.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-04-17T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

IN WHICH WE LEARN ABOUT EVENTS IN LONDON

My love. My darling. Those were the words floating through Ruisdell’s mind when he at last regained consciousness. Where the devil was he? He was weak as a cat, the room, wherever it was, was dark as pitch, and the entire left side of his torso felt like it had been stabbed repeatedly. In addition, he was deuced thirsty and drenched in sweat.

Elise filled his mind with unexpected urgency. My love. My darling. Those were her words. From somewhere inside his soul, rejoicing grew until it filled him, overshadowing the weakness and pain in his body. It didn’t seem possible, but she loved him!

Why should he be so surprised? Had he not set out to make it so? Shame killed his rejoicing. He did not deserve her love. He was an unprincipled rake. But Elise Edwards had fallen in love with him, and he must have a heart somewhere, because even in his present condition, it made him deliriously happy that it was so. Was she here somewhere?

He struggled to say her name, but the only thing that emerged from his parched throat was a croak. Richards was at his side in a moment.

“Your Grace!” he said with uncustomary emotion. “We did not think you were going to survive!”

“Why? What’s wrong with me? Where am I?”

“You were stabbed, Your Grace. In the gardens at Reardon House. You lost a deal of blood, but what almost carried you away was fever. You’ve been delirious for four days. Judging by how wet your sheets are, I’d say that the fever has finally broken.”

As though reading his mind, the valet poured him a large glass of water from the pitcher somewhere behind his head. “Here, drink this.”

While Rusidell slaked his thirst, his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness. “The library?” he said. “What the devil? I was stabbed? Who stabbed me?”

“We brought you in here because it was the only place on the ground floor with a couch. You were allegedly stabbed by the Earl of Waterford, Your Grace, and though he is in custody, he denies it. However, he is being held on the kidnapping charge. His trial is next Monday in the House of Lords.”

“You must get me Somerset. I must have the latest news.”

“It is two a.m., Your Grace. He is asleep upstairs in the guest room. Shall I awaken him?”

“Somerset in bed at two a.m.? Is he ill?”

“Worn to a bone, Your Grace. He has been sitting up with you night and day.”

The duke was moved. What had he ever done to deserve George’s unswerving devotion? His way of life since the trouble at Oxford had vouchsafed him few friends.

It was very odd how Chessingden kept turning up in his life. Now, despite their rivalry for Elise, the viscount was most probably going to bear witness in the Lords against his attempted killer. He probably would not want to. But his passion for Elise would certainly urge him to get the earl hanged for her kidnapping.

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