Page 73 of The Untamed Duke
At one point, he heard Sebastian command that he must “pull through.” Whatever that meant. Nicholas closed his eyes against the insistent pounding in his head, shutting out everything for a long while.
* * *
Nicholas squintedagainst the glow of the bedside lamp. It was dark in the room other than that little bit of light. He wondered if it was dusk or dawn behind the closed window drapes.
“Are you awake, Your Grace?”
Startled, he turned his head and discovered Lady Ivy reclining in a high-backed wing chair pulled alongside the bed. Her feet were tucked beneath her and a book lay in her lap. She regarded Nicholas curiously, patiently waiting for a response.
When he only stared at her, she set the book aside, fussing with some items arranged on the table. A cup of cool water pressed his lips. Nicholas grabbed the cup without success as one hand was bandaged in thick layers of surgical cloth. Ivy tsked and transferred the cup into his other hand. When he’d quenched his thirst, she returned the cup to the table.
“You gave us all a fright, Your Grace.”
“Where is Lady Willsdown?” Nicholas barked, wincing because the sound of his voice made his own head spin. Reaching up, he found his head wrapped with bandages. It was tender alongside his temple; he probed the spot carefully.
“We finally convinced her she must lay down and rest. She’s kept constant watch over you for three days and has exhausted herself.”
Nicholas’s throat convulsed. “Is she all right?”
“As much as can be expected,” Ivy replied, her sharp eyes noting the clenching of his jaw.
He looked away, unable to face the truth but desperate to know what he already suspected. “I failed, didn’t I?”
Ivy nodded. “What do you remember?” Ivy Cain was the toast of London, both before and after her love match with Sebastian. And now, Nicholas feared the wife of his enemy knew more of his secrets than she had a right to.
“Going into the stables. Locating Llyr’s stall and grabbing his halter from a hook. He was standing there, patiently. As though he were waiting for me. I decided I could lead him out because the fire did not appear so terrible in that section. Then, a crash… and nothing more until now.”
“Something hit you in the head and gave you a rather nasty injury. You were running a fever that first day so the doctor gave you laudanum to keep you calm. You thrashed about so violently…” Ivy gave a sad shake of her head. “A beam landed full on Llyr. Sebastian found him pinned beneath it and you unconscious. Most of the building was destroyed, but thank God no human lives were lost, just scrapes and burns. Sebastian’s greys died and half of the yearlings. And two mares. But the worst blow is the loss of Llyr.”
Sorrow overwhelmed Nicholas, blotting out details of the fire and the knowledge that Sebastian was responsible for his rescue. He failed Grace. Failed in saving her most loved and prized possession. Tears pricked his eyes until he rubbed them away with his uninjured hand. His poor, sweet Grace. How devastated she must be.
Realizing that Ivy was regarding him strangely, he cast about for a topic that did not involve Grace.
“Has Sebastian come often to gloat over saving me? I’m sure he would have preferred leaving me to my fate.”
“There was no keeping him from the building, Your Grace. Whatever you might think, that he hates you or wishes you dead, is just not true. Although he won’t yet admit it,” Ivy replied. “Sebastian left for London this afternoon. To begin the process of rebuilding the stables, hiring carpenters and skilled mason workers. He intends on hiring Sir Cedric Barrymore, but I doubt he’ll be able to drag him from his work at Westminster Palace.”
“I can help Grace…” The words were out of his mouth before they could be stopped.
“And why would you do that?” the countess asked. Nicholas couldn’t decide if she was amused or just curious.
“She will need aid. I would do the same for anyone in this situation.” The excuse was a paltry one. It proclaimed for all the world his concern for Grace’s welfare. He, the Winter Wolf, interested in someone other than himself.
The corner of Ivy’s mouth lifted with a tiny smile.
“May I ask a question, Your Grace?” She spoke so calmly, Nicholas felt physically soothed by her voice and he nodded she continue. “How long have you cared for her? Did it start at Calmont Downs? Or even before that? We were absent from London with that unfortunate incident involving Sebastian’s Aunt Rachel, so perhaps the two of you met during that time and we were unaware of your association with one another.”
Nicholas’s head throbbed as the path of the countess’s questioning became clear. “What the devil are you saying?”
“You are the Duke of Richeforte. You risked your life for a horse. Ahorse.One you don’t even own. Why? You have a reputation as a wretchedly cold-hearted, dispassionate man. Your selfishness is legendary, your disregard for women well-documented. Forgive me if I wonder at your motives when it comes to my cousin.”
“I did what any other rational man would have done.”
Ivy laughed, her head tilting. “Is that so?”
“Yes...that’s so.” Nicholas ground out. “My motives have little to do with Lady Grace. We barely know each— “
“You barely know each other,” Ivy interrupted incredulously. “Why were her slippers in this room,your room,the night lightning struck the stables? I picked them up myself, there by the fireplace, while they laid you out on the bed. No one else noticed, so I hid them in my robe pockets and later returned them to Grace’s room. She has no idea I did that.” Ivy smiled sadly. “Do you know she would have followed you into that fire if Sebastian had not? And when he dragged you out, bloody and burnt, she dropped to her knees at your side. She cried over you, Richeforte. She has cried so much the last three days and not always for the loss of Llyr. For her sake, do not diminish whatever is between you.”
