“I hate you, Alexander. You’re despicable; you know how I feel about you and yet you took shameful advantage.”
“You were in bed beside me and you responded to my kisses. This was hardly the action of a woman who does not wish to make love.” His words were clipped as if he was angry.
“I was asleep, I thought I was dreaming and when I woke I was too late to stop you. The only reason I was beside you in bed was to keep warm. The fire is out in case you haven’t noticed.”
“But, my dear, the fact you were dreaming about making love to me should tell you all you need to know. There’s no point denying it, Isobel, you want me as much as I want you.”
This was too much. “I’ve lived more happily these past few months away from you than at any time when you were here. Unlike you I had no recourse to slake my physical needs with a lover. You promised me you would never be unfaithful, that you would take care of me and make me happy. You have broken every one of those vows.”
Too distressed to remain in the same chamber as him she fled back to her own apartment and sobbed herself to sleep.
Alexander cursed his stupidity. He had been half asleep himself when his bare thigh had touched hers. Unable to believe what his senses were telling him he had reached out and found his darling girl curled up beside him. He hadn’t stopped to think—had just reacted. When Isobel was in his arms rational thought was impossible. His hand came away from his leg bright red. Making love had reopened the wound. This was a job for the physician now; he would need fresh sutures to staunch the blood.
Keeping one hand firmly pressed on the gash he stretched out and rang the brass bell praying that someone was within earshot. He couldn’t remove his hand in order to get out of bed and pull the bell-strap. He was beginning to despair when the butler rushed into the room.
“My leg— it’s bleeding profusely. You need to send for the doctor to stitch it again.”
“That’s not possible, my lord, the snow’s too deep. Here, let me bandage the injury, it should hold until I can fetch what I need.”
In the feeble light of a single candlestick his leg was dressed efficiently. The bed was ruined; it looked as if someone had been murdered within the sheets. He felt lightheaded and not at all well. From a distance he heard voices, then someone propped him up in the bed and tipped cool lemonade into his mouth which immediately revived him.
“I’m going put extra stitches in the wound, my lord. It might hurt, but I reckon to give you brandy or laudanum would do more harm than good after the bout of fever you had.”
“Get on with it, man, then I can remove myself from this bloodbath.” Several extremely painful minutes later the job was done. “Can I get up now? I’ll sit in the chair whilst the bed is changed.”
“Allow me to assist you, your grace. Then Mrs Watkins can set things straight.”
Only then did he remember what had taken place between those sheets. Would the evidence of their lovemaking be visible? Too late to worry, he was married to Isobel after all and making love was perfectly natural between a man and wife.
His cheeks stained. The housekeeper was Isobel’s confidante and knew how things stood between them. Would she believe Isobel had been unwilling for a second time? He slumped into the chair despair overwhelming him. How was he going to convince Isobel he had believed her to be in his bed from choice? It might be a week or more before the roads were clear enough him to leave. Would this be sufficient to repair the damage?
The rattle of the curtains being drawn back woke Isobel the next morning. Her head ached, her throat was dry and she had no wish for breakfast. Sally had placed the tray with tea and buttered toast on the bedside table.
“It’s fair freezing outside, my lady, and more snow falling. I doubt anyone will get in or out of here for a week at least.”
“I think I shall stay in my apartments today, Sally. I did not have much sleep last night and shall remain in bed this morning.”
“Very well, my lady. There was a right to do last night, I can tell you. His grace needed Mr Brown to stitch up his leg again for he lost a deal of blood but George says as he’s fine now.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Ask Mrs Watkins to come and see me, please, Sally.”
The girl left the tray and vanished through the dressing room, her footsteps clearly audible as the servants’ passageway ran alongside the bed chamber. Isobel toyed with the toast but drank the tea. A polite tap on the door heralded Mary’s arrival.
“Good morning, my lady. I think you’ve made a wise choice to remain here today; it’s far warmer upstairs than down.”
“Mary, tell me what happened? I left the duke because he was sleeping peacefully and his fever quite gone. There seemed little point in me shivering in a chair when he no longer required my vigilance.”
“It would seem the injury was worse than either of us knew. Bill said he had to probe into the wound in order to remove a large sliver of wood that had embedded itself there. His grace must have nicked a vein, what with all that tossing and turning with his fever. I reckon that caused the bleeding.”
“But the duke’s in no danger?”
Mary beamed. “Bless you, my dear, he’s sleeping like a baby. I doubt we’ll keep that one in his bed today.”
“You had better find him a cane to lean on if he insists on leaving his chamber. Has someone taken the dogs out for me?” Her erstwhile abigail looked uncomfortable. This was the first time since they’d returned Mary had forgotten to address her correctly. “I regret we don’t spend much time together, Mary. You’re my dearest friend and I insist in future you come and take tea with me every afternoon as long as your duties allow it.”
The smile returned. “Thank you, my lady. Perhaps I could come along later and show you what I’ve made for the little one?”
This arrangement was more than acceptable and Isobel’s spirits rose and her appetite revived. When there was a second rap on the door of her bed chamber she looked up with a smile but this faltered when she saw Alexander standing there.
“You should not be out of bed; you were at death’s door yesterday.” She could hardly tell him to go away even though that was what she wished to do. Sally was in the dressing room sorting out the mending and could hear everything that took place between them.
“Isobel, we have to talk. No, don’t frown at me, my love, there are things that must be said to clear the air between us.”
She gestured towards the dressing room and he nodded. Before she could prevent him he limped across and told the unfortunate girl to take herself elsewhere and not return until she was called for. His highhanded behaviour steadied her nerves. Her annoyance made her ready to face him.
She pushed herself straight, ran her fingers through her hair and pursed her lips waiting to him to return. “You may sit on the chair by the fire, Alexander. I would prefer it if you did not come any closer.”
With an amiable smile he did as she bid and was soon comfortably ensconced. “There’s no point in my apologising again for whatever I say you’ll think the worst of me. Therefore I don’t intend to do so. I shall be marooned here with you for a week at least. Do you intend to skulk in here until I go?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. In case you haven’t noticed I’m increasing. What took place last night has debilitated me.” She glared at him and something prompted her to continue in the same vein. “If I lose this child it will be your doing and you can be very sure there will never be another legitimate heir whilst I’m alive.”