Page 33 of My Kind of Scoundel
Miss Lovelace unbuttoned Miss Darrow’s pelisse to expose her throat. “Wave the aromatic salts under her nose.” She glanced over her shoulder and caught Aaron looking at her ankles. “As you know nothing of my personal struggles, sir, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”
Miss Darrow’s head jerked the instant she inhaled the potent substance. She coughed, wrinkled her nose and turned her head.
Theo released a deep sigh, relief relaxing every tense muscle. “Miss Darrow? Can you hear me?” He prayed therewere no lasting mental effects from the fall. That he’d have every chance to repair the damage he’d done.
Miss Lovelace touched the backs of her fingers to the patient’s cheek. “Please pour her a glass of brandy, Mr Chance. It may help to revive her spirits.”
Aaron obliged, though muttered something about being a lapdog. He returned and handed Miss Lovelace the glass, careful not to touch her fingers.
The brandy worked wonders. A mere sip brought the colour flooding back to Miss Darrow’s cheeks. She opened her eyes, though seemed confused to find herself in a drawing room.
“Where am I?” She winced as she shifted on the sofa.
“You’re at Fortune’s Den,” Miss Lovelace said, gripping Miss Darrow’s hand and rubbing the life back into her bones. “Do you remember why? Can you recall what happened?”
“I—I’m not sure.” She rambled like a bedlamite while verbally retracing her steps. “I saw Mr Franklin, the silversmith.” Then she recalled Theo caressing her cheek while they were collecting gloves. “I think it was part of the forfeit.”
“Forfeit?” Aaron snapped, his disapproval evident.
“It’s nothing,” Theo said. “Just a little game we play to pass the time.”
It wasn’t nothing. The intimate moments with Miss Darrow fed his newfound craving. Cravings passed, though he would never tire of kissing her.
“Don’t you think your games have caused enough trouble?”
“The game is crucial to building trust.”
“Yes, I remember we were kissing,” Miss Darrow confessed, leaving Theo inwardly groaning. “No, that wasbefore I ventured upstairs and discovered someone had stolen my book and diary.”
Stolen! The thief had lifted the floorboards?
Was the villain after the book or the list of Miss Darrow’s clients?
Miss Lovelace glanced at Theo like he had committed a mortal sin. “I’m not sure we need to know every detail, Miss Darrow.”
Aaron was quick to respond. “With you being a wallflower, I imagine it unsettles your delicate sensibilities.”
“I am hardly delicate. I saw you without your shirt last month and didn’t swoon.”
The verbal spat left Miss Darrow more confused. “Was this before or after I arrived at Fortune’s Den?” She released a weary sigh as her eyes fluttered and closed. “I’m so tired I could sleep for a week.”
Gentry arrived promptly, wearing a black coat with fashionable oversized lapels and carrying his bulging leather case.
“You took your time,” Aaron said.
Gentry placed his bag on the low table. “I came immediately. I trust this is the lady who fell.”
Miss Lovelace rose and offered the physician a beaming smile. “Thank you for coming, Mr Gentry. Miss Darrow has suffered a head injury and has only just regained consciousness.”
Gentry spoke to Miss Darrow, observing her speech with keen interest. Then he stared into her beguiling eyes, checked her pulse and touched various parts of her body. “Tell me if this hurts?”
“No, sir, but I fear I must sleep.”
“Do you feel nauseous?”
“No.”
“Do you recall how you fell?”
