The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) (38 page)

Ashley muttered again.
 
Something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘Nice.’
 

Athenais blinked back more tears and cradled his head on her shoulder.
 
Little by little, she felt the tremors subside and his muscles start to relax … until finally, he fell asleep.

*
 
*
 
*

Between her anxiety over Ashley and the strange feelings proximity to his naked body aroused in her own, Athenais had not expected to sleep – but the next thing she knew, greyish light was creeping through the window and Pauline was standing in the doorway, holding a tray.

‘Well,’ remarked that lady caustically, ‘I suppose that’s one way to do it.’

‘Do what?’
 
In her attempt to sit up, Athenais discovered that her arm had gone numb and that the Colonel had somehow managed to pin her waist with his uninjured one.
 
She extricated herself as gently as she could and managed to slither out of the bed.
 
‘He was cold and Francis said to keep him warm.’
 

‘That was handy.’
 
A tiny smile flicked the corners of Pauline’s mouth and she walked into the room to deposit the tray on the table.
 
‘And now you’d better put some clothes on before the doctor gets here.
 
We wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea.’

‘Like you, you mean?’

‘Exactly like me.’
 
She eyed Ashley thoughtfully. ‘He’s starting to stir.
 
Go and tidy yourself while I check his dressings and try to get some beef tea into him.
 
You can use my room.’

Yawning and trying to rub the pins and needles from her arm, Athenais retrieved her gown and petticoats from the chair.
 
She said waspishly, ‘You just want to see him naked again.’

‘And you don’t?’ retorted Pauline.

The doctor arrived half an hour later by which time Ashley was fully awake and once more in severe pain.
 
Doctor Odelle examined Pauline’s handiwork and was pleased to pronounce it exceptional.
 
He could not, he admitted, have done better himself and was therefore loth to interfere.
 
But he produced a different pot of salve which he said would help to reduce both the inflammation and the risk of infection and also gave Pauline a twist of paper containing opium grains – along with strict instructions on how to administer them. Then, turning to Ashley, he said, ‘You’re a very lucky man.
 
This lady’s prompt attentions may well have saved your leg – if not your life.’

Aside from the throbbing agony which now seemed to be invading his whole body, Ashley was getting tired of being poked and prodded and was also uncomfortably aware that he needed to relieve himself.
 
However, he managed to find sufficient good manners to say, ‘And I’m grateful.
 
When I’m on my feet again --’

‘Ah yes,’ interrupted the doctor.
 
‘As to that, you will need to remain abed for at least a week.’

‘
A week?
I can’t stay in bed for a week!’

‘You can.
 
And, unless you want to undo all Madame’s good work, you will.
 
The stitches will hold and the flesh will start to mend if you keep the leg elevated and still.
 
If you don’t, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.’
 
He turned, smiling at Pauline.
 
‘I will call again in two days, Madame. But if there are signs of fever before then, you should send for me.’

Downstairs after Pauline had shown the doctor out, Athenais sniffed the new pot of salve, grimaced, and said, ‘Yours smells better.’

‘Thank you.’
 
Pauline frowned thoughtfully. ‘He’s going to be a bad patient.
 
You realise that, don’t you?
 
He can’t be idle at the best of times, so keeping him immobile for a week will need some organisation.
 
As soon as the pain eases – if not before – he’s going to try to get up.
 
And, if no one’s there to stop him, he will.’

‘A round-the-clock guard, then?’

‘Yes.
 
And don’t think it will be fun.
 
He’s going to be anywhere between moody and downright furious.
 
Remember Rosalie in
The Compliant Wife
?
 
All sweetness and light and infuriating serenity?
 
That’s your role.
 
So go and offer him something light to eat – but don’t be surprised if he throws it at you.’

Upstairs, meanwhile, Francis lounged in the doorway and regarded Ashley cautiously.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Bloody awful.’

‘Care to tell me what happened before that fellow de Bergerac came along?’

‘No.
 
Help me up, will you?
 
And find a sodding chamber-pot.’

Francis couldn’t quite suppress his grin but he shook his head, saying, ‘No.
 
You heard the doctor.
 
If you want to keep your leg, you’ll do as you’re told.
 
But since I sympathise with your current need, I’ll send Jem up with a bottle.’
 
And he vanished.

No sooner had Francis gone, than Athenais appeared, wearing an expression he hadn’t seen before and instantly distrusted.
 
He didn’t know that, behind it, parts of her body were melting and her brain along with them.
 
When last she’d seen him, he’d been lying flat, covered up to his neck by a sheet.
 
Now he was sitting propped against the pillows, his torso bare but for the bandage around his left arm; and the sheer beauty of his physique made her breath catch and produced an urge to do more than just look.

Realising that Rosalie’s smile had slipped, she pinned it back on and said, ‘You look a little better, today.
 
I was so worried last night.’

Ashley searched his mind and found two things.
 
One was a hazy recollection of lying on this damned bed without a stitch on in full view, not just of Pauline, but also Francis and Athenais; the other was the bizarre notion that, at some point during the night, Athenais had been in bed with him.
 
The first brought a hint of ridiculous colour to his cheekbones; the second he dismissed as some kind of pain-induced hallucination.

As evenly as he could, he said, ‘I apologise for both the anxiety and the disruption.
 
I also realise that this is your bedchamber and --’

‘Don’t worry about that.
 
I can sleep on the couch in the dressing-closet.’

He stared at her, utterly aghast. He might be wounded but he wasn’t dead. And God alone knew just how many humiliations the lack of privacy caused by her presence in the next room was likely to heap upon him.
 
The mere thought was enough to send his muscles into spasm.
 
He said, ‘I can’t possibly allow you to do that.
 
Perhaps Francis and Jem could help me upstairs?’

‘I daresay they could,’ she replied dulcetly. ‘But they’re not going to.
 
The doctor said you’re to stay where you are for a week and that’s an end of the matter.’

Ashley decided that he was extremely tired of the doctor.

‘I can lie in my own bed just as easily as in yours. Not that I see the need to --’

‘No.
 
We realise that.’

‘
We?
’
 
The word cracked like a pistol shot.

‘Yes. Pauline and Francis and myself.
 
We’ve decided that, for the next few days, someone should be nearby to stop you disobeying orders.’

‘I am not a child!’ he snapped, his temper rising. ‘And I most assuredly don’t need a nursemaid!’

‘Unfortunately, as things stand, you do.’ Her smile was breathtakingly sweet and her tone, downright maddening. ‘Also, no one in this house is going to help you to cripple yourself.
 
So you may as well accept the situation and try to make the best of a bad job.’

‘Finished with the platitudes, have you?’

‘For the moment.’
 
She took in the sulky set of his mouth and the baleful gleam in his eyes and said kindly, ‘I know you’re in pain and I understand that a week in bed sounds like a lifetime in purgatory.
 
But when you’re thinking more clearly, you’ll appreciate that there really isn’t any alternative.
 
So … do you suppose you might manage a nice coddled egg?’

Ashley’s eyes narrowed still further.
 
He had a suspicion that she was being deliberately provoking and was strongly tempted to tell her what she might do with her coddled egg.
 
Fortunately, before he could do so, Jem Barker hove into view on the landing, clutching a stone-ware bottle.
 
The notion that relief was at hand was great enough to banish every thought save the immediate need to be rid of her.

He said sardonically, ‘That sounds delightful.
 
And if you are good enough to prepare it, I’ll certainly do my best.’

Athenais considered admitting that, if
she
cooked the egg, he’d be able to bounce it off the wall and then, with regret, decided that it wasn’t at all Rosalie-like.
 
Tilting her head slightly, she said, ‘Or perhaps you’d prefer some calves-foot jelly?’

‘Thank you.
 
The egg will be fine.’
 
It wouldn’t, of course.
 
It sounded like exactly the sort of pap he most disliked; but the jelly sounded worse and he’d agree to eat any blasted thing she liked, if only she’d just
go
before his bladder exploded.

‘And later, we’ll make you a custard,’ she announced happily. ‘Or a blancmange.’

Ashley narrowly avoided grinding his teeth.
 
If he had a blancmange right now, he knew what he’d do with it. He said gratingly, ‘By all means.
 
But the only thing I
really
want right now is the opium – which is the one thing I haven’t been offered.
 
And, if you look behind you, you’ll see that reinforcements have arrived, meaning that you may safely leave me.’

She turned her head to impale Jem with a very un-Rosalie-like scowl and, reluctantly switching to English, said, ‘’E’s not to be allowed up – no matter what ’e says.’

‘No, mamzelle.
 
No matter what.’

She nodded and stepped aside to let him pass.

Jem grinned at Ashley and brandished the bottle.

‘Morning, Colonel.
 
His lordship says you’ve a need for this.’

There had often been times when Ashley wanted to murder Jem.
 
This was one of them.

Athenais stared blankly at the bottle for a second before comprehension dawned and she flushed in mortification.
 
Forgetting Rosalie, she muttered, ‘I’m so sorry.
 
I’ll go.’

Ashley shut his eyes briefly and wondered how he was going to endure a week of this.
 
Constant pain and enforced immobility were bad enough, God knew.
 
But this kind of embarrassment, combined with honeyed smiles and invalid slop, was already making him want to smash something.

He glared at Jem.
 
‘Give me that.’

Mr Barker passed him the bottle.
 
‘Need a hand, Colonel?’

This, Ashley didn’t dignify with a reply.
 
He simply snatched the receptacle and proceeded to do what he’d wanted to do for the last half-hour.
 
It gave him nearly as much pleasure as the look on Jem’s face when he handed the bottle back.
 
Then, deciding that he might as well make the most of whatever small moments of enjoyment came his way, he said, ‘Before you take that away … tell me about the fellow last night.
 
Where did you tail him to?’

‘Same place you said,’ shrugged Mr Barker.
 
‘Who is he?’

‘A friend.’

‘A friend, is it?
 
So he wouldn’t have had nothing to do with what’s happened to you?’

‘No.’

‘Going to let his lordship and me in on the details, are you?’

‘Later.’ Ashley tried to think, though the persistent fog in his head made it difficult.
 
It was possible that Hyde had set Sir William Brierley on the same trail he himself had been following – though he wasn’t sure why this might be so.
 
And if Will was involved with Lucy Walter on some personal level … well, it would be necessary to discover what that was.
 
Finally, he said, ‘I need to speak to Ned Hyde.’

‘Ah.
 
Well, you ain’t going to be doing that for a week or more.’

‘It appears not.’

‘Can’t his lordship go for you?’

It was an irritant to Ashley that, though Jem had taken years to address
him
correctly, he been happily my-lording Francis ever since he’d first learned of his inherited title.