Page 37 of The Devil and the Heiress
Relief allowed color to flood back into his face. “You are a brat, Violet Crenshaw.” He kissed her palm again, taking the sting out his words. He drew a deep breath before looking at her again. “We were in an accident last evening. The rain appears to have uprooted a tree, which fell and hit the carriage. It knocked us off the roadway and into a ravine that was unfortunately overflowing with water. Somehow, I was flung free as the vehicle tumbled down the hill, but you were trapped inside. I was able to rescue you, but not until after you had sustained considerable injuries.” If his expression was any indication as it roamed over her face, she imagined her patchwork of bruising to be even worse than his. “You swallowed a great amount of water. You weren’t breathing. I was so afraid...” But he seemed unable to complete the thought.
He had saved her. The awe that accompanied that thought kept her silent. After a moment, she said, “My shoulder hurts, but I don’t seem to be very badly injured.”
He reached forward and pulled the blanket and sheet back far enough for her to see that she was not clothed.Strips of white linen had been wrapped around her shoulder and upper arm, but near the top her skin was shades of indigo and maroon. The bruising likely extended farther down her arm if the pain was any indication. However, she could only think that she was naked while he was fully clothed.
Or rather close to clothed. He wore shirtsleeves and trousers, but both seemed too rough to belong to him. They had to be borrowed. Yes, she was certain of it, because the shirt pulled a bit too tight across his shoulders. She would wager he did not own anything that had not been tailor-made to fit him perfectly.
“Your shoulder was dislocated. I managed to move it back into place, but we must keep it wrapped up to allow the muscle time to heal.”
“You put it back into place?”
He nodded. “I have some knowledge of how it is done, thanks to the club.”
Her mind swirled with that information. He had saved her and administered aid to her. Had he also disrobed her?
“The physician wrapped it for you.”
“Physician?”
He nodded again. “I carried you to the small village we had passed about a mile before the accident. Had I not been so irresponsible, so afraid that your parents were on our heels, we would have stopped there for the night and none of this would have happened.”
She could not focus on his self-loathing, because she was too fixated on what he had revealed. Not only had he saved her from the carriage, which must have been flooded with water from the rains, but he had also carried her over a mile to the village and found a physician to attend to her. “Christian.” He glanced up at her whisper. “You saved me.”
“From a wreckage you would not have been a part of if not for me.”
She curled her fingers against his beard, noting how hiseyelashes fluttered in what she could only assume to be pleasure and approval. She was touching him, and he was enjoying it. Her heart soared with the knowledge, even as the aches in her body were making themselves known with every throbbing beat of her heart.
“Perhaps not, but I accepted what fate had in store for me when I took you up on your offer back in London.”
He stared at her, perhaps locked in the same odd reality she found herself in, floating somewhere between pain and pleasure.
“What happened to Peterson? Is he well?”
“He lives. He jumped free and only suffered a fracture in his arm. You, however, may have a broken rib. Dr. Mitchell could not be sure. The one certainty is that they are bruised and you are concussed.” He leaned forward and gently pulled back the hair across her forehead. “You have an injury here, near your temple, that he had to sew closed.”
“Here?” She reached up only to feel a bandage wrapped around her head. “Did he... Did he shave me?” It was a ridiculous fear considering how terrible the accident sounded and how close she was starting to realize that she might have come to death, but it was there regardless. Apparently, her vanity would make a strong showing all the way to the end, especially knowing that he was gazing upon her.
Strangely, the question made his lips quirk in that elusive smile she had been searching for. “Only a little. You shall be able to cover it with your hair until it grows back.”
Relief made her feel tired. “And you?” Her hand went back to his face, unable to pass up the opportunity to touch him. He leaned into her hand like a cat might. “How badly are you injured?”
“Not very much. I was thrown free early on. I cannot be certain, but I believe the door must have flung open. I merely sustained some bruising and scratches.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. Now that she knew howterrible things had been, she was so thankful that his life had been spared.
“Here. Drink some water.” He moved to grab a glass waiting on the nightstand that held the lamp. His hand gently went behind her neck to cup the back of her head, and he raised her an inch or two, enough that she could drink without choking. She found she was parched. As the cool liquid touched her throat, she wanted more. Finally, he gently set her back and held another cup to her lips. “Laudanum,” he said. “It will help you rest. You need rest to heal.”
Now she understood why her whole body felt so strange and heavy. It also explained why she felt as if she were floating in this odd interval with him. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“I won’t.” This time he smiled without reservation. “I had to tell the physician we were married, so he would allow me to stay here with you. Now I have nowhere else to go.”
She smiled, and he pressed the medicine to her lips.
After swallowing, she asked, “Where is my own copy ofJane Eyre? Aunt Hortense gave it to me, and I’d be devastated to lose it.”
“Waterlogged, I’m afraid, as were your manuscripts, but I retrieved them and have them drying. They shall be serviceable if not pristine.”
At least it was safe, if not a bit worse for wear. And her manuscripts. She was near dizzy with relief that they were salvaged.
