He squeezed his eyes tightly shut to banish the nauseating image. Later. He could dwell on it later, along with the retribution he would hand that bastard when he found him. And he had every intention of finding him. Right now she needed a doctor.
A knock sounded and he turned to see Langston enter carrying a huge tray bearing a basin of steaming water, linen, and brandy. “On the bedside table, Dr. Nathan?”
“Yes.” Drying his hands, Nathan asked, “Where is Lady Delia?”
“In the drawing room with your father.”
“Good. I’ve no wish to alarm them, especially given the nonthreatening nature of Lady Victoria’s injuries. Give me a quarter hour to clean and dress her cuts, then I’ll come down and tell them myself.”
“Yes, Dr. Nathan.” Langston cleared his throat. “You might wish to don a shirt before you do so.”
Nathan looked down at his bare chest, nonplussed. “Good idea. Thank you.”
With a nod, the butler quit the room, leaving the door ajar. Nathan opened the wardrobe, grabbed his medical bag in one hand and a folded, clean shirt with the other, then crossed to the bed. He looked down at Victoria’s pale face, and his chest constricted at the sight. Summoning his professional mien, he set his medical bag on the floor next to the bed and offered her his best doctorly smile.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, shrugging into his shirt.
“A bit sore,” she admitted with a wan smile. “Thirsty.”
After hastily tucking in his shirttails, he poured her a generous finger of brandy. Hoisting a hip onto the edge of the bed, he held the glass to her lips. “Sip this.”
She obediently sipped, then wrinkled her nose. “Blech. That is absolutely wretched.”
“Actually, given my father’s taste in brandy and the fact that I, um, found numerous cases of Napoleon’s finest, I suspect it’s really excellent brandy.”
She raised a brow. “Found? Where does one find cases of French brandy?”
He shrugged and adopted his most innocent expression. “Oh, here and there,”
“Hmmm. Well, if this is the finest Napoleon could do, no wonder he was exiled.”
A laugh rumbled in Nathan’s throat, a welcome relief from the tension gripping him. “It may not be to your taste, but it will help relieve your aches and pains, so sip.”
She shot him a potent glare, but obeyed. When the glass was empty, she said, “That vile stuff will burn a hole in my stomach.”
“How lucky that I’m a doctor and can cure you.”
“You‘re the one who caused the problem by making me drink it.”
“And never let it be said that I don’t fix any affliction I’ve caused.” He set the empty glass aside and soaked a handful of linen strips in the steaming water. “Now, if you’ll cooperate and let me do my job, I shall be most appreciative.”
She eyed him with a sudden combination of suspicion and trepidation. “How appreciative?”
“Appreciative enough to arrange for a dinner tray and a hot, soothing bath in your bedchamber. How does that sound?”
“Lovely. It’s just that…”
He squeezed the water from the linen strips. “What?”
“I don’t much care for doctors.” The words came out in a rush.
He nodded gravely. “Oh, neither do I. Nasty old men with cold hands who jab and prod exactly where it hurts.”
“Precisely!”
“How fortunate for you that I am neither nasty nor old, my hands are never cold, and I would throw myself into the Thames before I would ever hurt you.”
A bit of the tension left her eyes, but she still looked nervous. “I’m not certain how comforting that is, given your obvious predilection for splashing about in the water.”
“Lake water, yes. Thames River water? Absolutely not.” He gently removed her hand from the soiled linen she still pressed to her neck. “What happened to my brave, fierce warrior woman of the forest?”
“Perhaps she’s not as brave as you thought.”
“Nonsense. She is courage personified.” As he spoke, he gently bathed away the dried blood, relieved to see that the bleeding had completely ceased. “And she has my permission to cosh me with the decanter if during the course of my duties I displease her in any way.”
“Agreed.”
“And very quickly agreed, I see. However, no coshing until my duties have been completed. Now tell me your thoughts about the ruffian who absconded with our note.”
“Absconded? I’m not certain that correctly describes what happened. It seemed you gave up the note very willingly.” Her tone sounded faintly accusatory.
“I most certainly did. Seeing as how his knife could have cut through your neck in an instant, I thought it best.” After applying salve to her cut, he turned his attention to her scraped hands.
“I didn’t know you carried the letter with you.”
“I wanted to keep it safe.”
An unladylike snort escaped her. “Clearly you should have picked a different spot.”
He cocked a brow and dabbed at her palms. “Are you upset with me?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Of course.”
“Well then, yes, I am upset. Or at least disappointed. You did nothing to stop that man! I thought spies knew all sorts of tricks and maneuvers to disarm and outwit their opponents. Yet you simply did everything he asked and now he has the note and map.”
“And your head is still attached to your shoulders. Which would you think is more important to me?”
She instantly looked chastened. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful. I’m just concerned that he’ll find the jewels before we do.”
“I don’t think so. At least not with the letter and map he has.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the letter and map he possesses will send him on what is fondly referred to in the Official Spy Handbook as ‘The Wild Goose Chase.’ ” He eased her skirts up to bathe her knees.
“But… but how?”
“I wrote a false letter containing wrong information. Drew a fake map clearly depicting the Isles of Scilly, which lay twenty-eight miles off the coast of Lands End.” He shrugged. “That should keep him far enough away from here until we conclude our investigation using the real note and map, which are perfectly safe, by the way.”
She stared at him, clearly taken aback, then her expression changed to a combination of admiration and pure chagrin.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “It would appear I owe you an apology.”
“Well, if you really feel it’s necessary-”
“Oh, I do.” Gazing up at him, she said softly, “I’m sorry, Nathan. I should have known you’d be unsurpassedly brilliant.”
“Hmmm. Yes, you should have.” He smiled and lightly massaged the healing ointment into her palm.
“I feel like a complete fool. The reason I tripped was because I was attempting to kick the note out of his reach. I thought that might give you the opportunity to retrieve your knife or somehow subdue him. I didn’t know you had everything under control.”
He barely swallowed the humorless laugh that rose in his throat. Under control? He’d never felt more helpless in his life.
“Of course, you might have told me about the fake note in the boot ploy,” she said. “But regardless, you saved my life.” She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “My hero. Thank you.”
He brushed his fingertips lightly over her jaw. “You’re welcome. Glad to know you’re not disappointed I beat the enemy with my brain rather than my brawn. But mark my words, when I see that bastard again, he will pay dearly for touching you. For hurting you.”
A shudder ran through her. “I hope never to see him again. I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”
Never been so frightened? That makes two of us. He lowered her skirts to cover her knees. “I’m finished with my treatments. How do you feel?”