The Accidental Courtesan (27 page)

The only time he was allowed near Noelle was when he forced the issue and sent the maid off for food and rest. The next two days were long, and the nights were worse. Noelle was as still as death. He spent most of his time with her, watching her chest rise and fall, and hearing the soft ticks of a clock breaking the silence. He prayed and held her hand and made God and Noelle all sorts of promises if only she'd open her beautiful eyes.

The duchess, dark circles framing her eyes, came twice. After the first morning, Gavin stopped offering assurances of Noelle's recovery. He was losing hope.

Even the physician had little to say. With a head injury, patients either recovered or they didn't. And even when patients came out of the sleep, many were no longer able to care for themselves and seldom lived long.

Gavin appreciated his candor even as he wanted to shake some hope out of the man.

“You should take some rest, Mister Blackwell,” Martha said as she set a tray with a bowl of broth beside the bed, in case Noelle awakened and needed nourishment. “I had the housekeeper make you a tray of bread and cheese, and she took it to your room.”

Gavin looked at the maid through weary eyes and sensed a crack developing in her dislike for him. He suspected that once she realized he wasn't about to impregnate Noelle in her sleep, and that his intention was only to see her well, she'd allow him time alone with their patient, without hovering outside the open door.

They both had the same purpose, and it drew them together, albeit reluctantly.

He scratched a hand over his head and arched to release the crick in his spine. He needed a bath more than food. He was still wearing the clothes he'd worn the night of the ball and was starting to find himself offensive.

“I think I shall.” He squeezed Noelle's hand, then stood up. “If anything changes, please fetch me immediately.”

He felt the weight of Martha's curious perusal as he left the room to heat some water.

 

I
t was nearing morning on the third day when he woke to a slight stir beside him. He'd lain down beside Noelle last evening as he had the night before, when Martha was sleeping, taking comfort in the soft sound of her breathing. As long as she breathed, he could continue to pray for heavenly intervention.

He listened for some sign of awakening, but there was no other movement in the darkness. He slumped and slid an arm around her. Gently, he pressed his face into her hair. The scent of lemon and cinnamon was no longer present.

Anguish threatened to undo his composure. But throwing chairs about and smashing china wouldn't help her recover. He had to stay positive.

Cursing fate was better left for when he was alone.

“I am sorry, love,” he whispered, then curved his body against hers and gently snuggled her into his warmth. He held her tight in the circle of his arm. “If you come back to us, I promise to make amends for the way I mauled and mistreated you.”

“Including removing your hand from my left breast?” came a weak reply.

Gavin was startled. “Noelle?” He pulled back and rolled from the bed to light the lamp. When he rushed back and knelt by the bed, her eyes were open. He'd never seen anything as lovely as the small half smile on her perfect lips. “You scared ten years off my life,” he scolded, then clasped her hands together in his and pressed two firm kisses on her knuckles.

She looked into his eyes and then moved her attention to his temples. “I see a gray hair,” she croaked, her voice thin. “Please explain what happened to me.”

Taking the glass from the table next to the bed, Gavin poured some tepid tea and lifted the glass to her lips. Noelle sipped gratefully, then settled back on the pillow. She was pale, and dark circles curved under her eyes. She had never looked more beautiful.

The tight band around his heart eased. “You were kidnapped, and the thug cuffed your temple.”

She grimaced. It was a long moment before she spoke again. “I do remember that part. But why was I taken? The men were after you.”

Gavin returned the glass to the table and took her hand. “You were a tool. The kidnappers planned to use you to force me to hand over the necklace.”

Noelle grimaced. “I never planned for that eventuality. And how long have I been sleeping?”

“You've been unconscious for more than two days.” Gavin wanted to whoop from the rooftops. She was frail and weak, but he knew she'd live to scold him another day. Gathering her hand, he pressed it to his mouth. “If you ever worry me like that again, I will turn you over my knee and paddle your buttocks red.”

Her eyes twinkled, and she managed a weak scolding. “I thought you had other plans for my buttocks.” She narrowed her eyes. “I seem to recall you handling them several times without my permission.”

He offered a sheepish grin. “I promise never to take any more liberties. I have treated you badly. You will never have to suffer my ill attentions again.”

The frown deepened into a crease between her brows.

“Never?” The corners of her mouth drifted downward. “Then I shall live the rest of my life under crushing disappointment. I have discovered your manhandling and kisses are the most exciting part of my days.”

 

N
oelle wanted to giggle when his brows shot up, but she was too weak to do so. She wasn't sure how long she'd lain in the dark in this tiny white room, perhaps as long as an hour or two, listening to him sleep while taking comfort in his warm body beside her in bed.

The shock of discovering she wasn't alone under the sheets had quickly turned to pleasure when she caught his scent and realized it wasn't a stranger beside her. Well, as much pleasure as one could take when one's head hurt and every small movement creaked painfully along stiff muscles and bones.

It had also allowed her time to think about her situation. Having been close to losing her life at the hands of the kidnapper, she realized how tenuous life was. She could fret about her virginity, or rules, or possible heartbreak until her head spun, but none of it mattered. Happiness, even a few stolen moments, was more important than anything else.

All jesting and verbal sparring aside, she wanted Gavin, and she wouldn't be satisfied until she learned if his seductive wager had been bluster or truth. She'd love him for as long as she could and cherish the memories of those stolen moments for the rest of her life.

“You have certainly come to some conclusions since we spoke last. How long were you awake?” he asked.

Gavin looked haggard and in real need of giving attention to his appearance. Obviously her infirmity had taken a toll on him. She wanted to lift her hand to his face but didn't have the strength. In time she'd run her fingers through his glossy hair and down his face and give thanks she'd survived her ordeal to kiss him again.

“I was awake long enough to know I enjoyed the feel of your hand on my left breast. Unfortunately, the right one wasn't so blessed.” She locked onto his stare. From the fresh smell of her nightdress over unwashed skin, she knew she'd been cared for. Still, she couldn't remember the details of anything more than a hazy recollection of three men in a room, one of whom was Gavin, and a brief conversation. After that, the last days were blank.

Whatever else had happened since the courtesan ball, it was obvious that Gavin had spent time at her bedside, his rumpled clothing showing that he'd not been attended to by a proper valet.

“I was holding you,” he countered. He darted his eyes away from her face. “I didn't realize the placement of my hand over the coverlet was also on your breast.”

“So you didn't enjoy cupping my breast?” she teased grimly. “I think I have suffered the greatest injury I can suffer. I have lost the ability to entice a man.”

N
oelle watched his face and bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. There were all sorts of emotions playing on his handsome countenance, none of which was disgust. He wanted her, she knew, but in her weakened condition he had to feel like a cad for thinking lecherous thoughts. And he was thinking them, she had no doubt, when his eyes dipped of their own volition to her breasts before they snapped back to her face just as quickly.

She loved him. When she'd been lying there after awakening, she'd realized she wanted to share his bed, not for happily-ever-after but for one night, a string of nights. Maybe they could keep their relationship secret, all theirs, like a pair of star-crossed lovers hiding from the world, unable to give each other up. It would be her grandest adventure of all.

“Your injury has certainly rattled your brain, My Lady,” Gavin said, his voice serious. He kept his attention on the wall behind the bed, as if the plaster was infinitely fascinating. “You don't know what you are saying. It is not ladylike to tease a man in such a manner unless you are prepared to accept the consequences.”

“Consequences? You mean what happens when a man and woman come together in bed?” She opened her eyes wide. If she was to break through his newly misguided sense of honor, she had to force him into action. The only way to do that, she mused, was to keep him focusing not on what his mind wanted him to do but on what his body wanted. “I must admit I do lack that knowledge, other than a few general points of the act itself. However, I have decided you should be the man to teach me.”

“Noelle,” he warned through gritted teeth.

She plucked at her nightdress while completely ignoring his warning. She should hold back her awkward attempts to seduce him until after she was clean and well. She had to be a frightful sight.

“First, though, you must bathe me,” she insisted. “I fear lying abed has made me offensive to the senses.”

His jaw pulsed. “I shall call for Martha.”

“Martha is here?” Disappointment welled. If her maid was in residence, Eva had to know her whereabouts. Martha was the one person Eva trusted to keep Noelle's secrets. And with Martha hovering, seduction would be nearly impossible.

Gavin left her. A few minutes later, he was back. He appeared oddly disconcerted as he slumped into a chair.

“Apparently, the maid has gone on an errand,” he grumbled. “Mrs. Hill informed me she won't be back for several hours.”

Noelle hid a smile. Much could be accomplished in a few hours. “Then I guess you must bathe me without her help.” She looked at him wide-eyed. “Please, Gavin? I'm starting to itch.” She scratched her arm to emphasize her point.

“It is improper for me to bathe you, Noelle.”

From beneath her lashes she cast him a laughing glance. “Who said anything about proper, Gavin? And when did you become such a starchy prude?” She paused and crinkled her nose. “I know little about courtesans and their lovers, true, but I suspect some do share a tub together from time to time. I know my sister enjoys a bath with the duke. I understand it can be very sensuous.”

Noelle wasn't sure where this audaciousness came from, only that she was tired of keeping her purity under lock and key. She wanted Gavin. She wanted him naked. She wanted to kiss his perfect chest and stomach. And, of course, everywhere else she wanted to kiss.

After suffering through a near-fatal ordeal, she'd decided life was not to be watched from within a protective cocoon. Life was meant to be lived to the fullest. Stolen moments of passion with a man whom she cared for deeply should not be fought, but celebrated. And she planned to celebrate, bare-bottomed naked, with Gavin.

She could think about her kidnapping, the necklace, and footpads later. For now, they were alone. She'd not ponder grim thoughts while she had this opportunity to forget.

The flickering lamplight gave his face a dangerous appeal. His tight jaw sharpened his features. He was obviously struggling between his concern for her and the lingering effects of the blow to her head, and wanting to take her up on her offer to bed her with all the passion he could muster.

“The physician assured me a head injury can alter the personality of the victim.” He stood and paced. When he neared the door, he paused. “I shall fetch Mrs. Hill and arrange for your bath. Once you're made comfortable, you will see things clearer.”

Now Noelle was getting angry. She didn't want whoever this Mrs. Hill was to attend her. She understood that she was in no condition to fully seduce Gavin or completely enjoy the delights she hoped she would find in his arms. However, seduction didn't start with the act of copulation itself. Temptation, even in the form of bare skin, would certainly intrigue her reluctant lover enough to drive him to want to sample the delights she offered, soon, when she was well.

Unless he no longer desired her. She touched her hand to her face and wondered about the depth of the damage. She hadn't considered that her injury might have forever ruined her face. Nowhere in the room was there a mirror to check.