Page 95 of Too Cursed To Kiss
The bedroom had fabric in shades of creamy coffee, and wallpaper with sprigs of light purple flowers. The bed was a four-poster with honey-colored wood that matched the floor and the door. My linen nightgown was the same color as thewalls. I never wore nightgowns. Had I dreamt about Victoria or had it happened? If I was going to figure it out, I’d have to move.
With more than a few curses, I managed to sit up. My feet settled on a brown linen mat. I lifted the hem of my nightgown to see the damage, but my torso and side were wrapped in bandages.
The bathroom door was open across the room. Settling my weight on my left side, I pushed myself off the bed. My body exploded in an unholy hell kind of burning pain. Moaning, I fell back, clutching my side. Standing was out of the question.
The door flew open, and Wald raced in, spectacularly handsome in a pink shirt and a black velvet dinner jacket. “Vat rrr you doing? Get back into da bed,” he barked, walking to the bed and pointing to it. His accent was much thicker, and he wasn’t wearing sunglasses. I stared, mesmerized by his amber eyes framed by feathery lashes, as the thick accent filtered into English. My heart battered my ribs.
I leaned back coquettishly. “I don’t want to be in bed, but I’m willing to get back in if you join me.” I dropped my focus to his lips, and the bottom one twitched. If he didn’t remember me, he still found me attractive.
“An interesting offer, but alas, I am currently unavailable.” His mouth curled up with the smile that would haunt my dreams forever.
My stomach plummeted. “You mean dinner is more important than my recovery?” I asked, yelping as I shifted in a bad direction. The not-being-able-to-stand part was going to have to get fixed fast. “Since I can’t make it over there, lick me and fix this?” I gestured to my side.
He paused and then walked to the bed. His amber eyeswere bright with concern. “Perhaps I should call my mother back to tend you? You seem feverish.”
“What are you talking about? Just lick me and take the fricking pain away.”
“Moo-thar ‘as done all she can to heal you. Your vound ees deep made by the Klyngore that does not heal.”
“It was your flipping knife-sword thing that did this. Don’t you know how to fix it?”
“My sword?” His brows knit, and his lips pressed together as he sat on the edge of the bed. I squealed as his weight shifted the mattress.
“Yes, your bloody sword, the teenage fang or whatever you call it. You were going to kill your stepsister, and I got to you first.”
“I had thoughts of threatening Britannia, but I vould never truly ‘urt ‘er. But how vould you know I ‘ad the Klyngore? No one knows that but Mother. Did she tell you?”
“No, you idiot, you told me about it, and then you stabbed me with it when I tried to help you. What are you waiting for? Heal me and fix this.”
“If you vere in fact vounded by the Klyngore, then there ees no cure.”
“What do you mean there is no cure?” My throat closed over the words. I gulped air in breaths, choking on my own thoughts.
“One wounded by the Klyngore will die.”
“What?” I screeched, causing searing pain to rip through my side. Tears poured down my face as I panted, attempting to settle my nerves and relax. “What exactly do you mean bydie?”
“Ve’ve done all that ve can do. I am sorry. If you ‘ad traveled to a hospital, you vould have already passed on. Victoria’s healing skills are extensive but limited.”
My heart pounded, the fear writhing in my insides. I was not dying. I didn’t feel like I was dying. What did dying feel like? Nine hells. I was not dying from this. No way. “No. You did this, and you need to fix it. Find a way. There must be a way. Please, help me.” I buried my face in his pink shirt and sobbed. The musk of him wafted around me as his arms wrapped me against his chest. His lips touched the top of my head in a chaste kiss.
“I don’t know if there ees a vay, but if there ees, my Aunt Agatha vill know.”
“Agatha is alive?” I choked out through the tears. “I’m sure she can help me.”
“She ees on her way. Now rest. I vill send Mother to you.” Wald got up, ruffling his sodden shirt while I wiped my eyes. Then he left.
No chance I was resting. I dropped to the floor, curling in a ball until the pain subsided, then crawled to the bathroom. It was a ten-minute endeavor that left me panting at the end. This state of distress was unacceptable. Pain wasn’t stopping me because I wasn’t going to let it. I used the sink to haul myself up and almost passed out.
Okay, Harlan, you need to go slow. I only screamed maybe twenty times. Things were definitely improving. I even managed to shrug on the cashmere bathrobe that had been hanging on the back of the door. It was the same color of coffee as the tile.
The bedroom door creaked open. I gripped the bathroom doorknob for dear life as I peered out.
Victoria walked in, wearing a sweeping gown of lilac chiffon, dripping in diamonds. “You should be in bed,” she barked like a Chihuahua adding little yips of cuckoldingtsks.
I took a deep breath and staggered from the door to the bed, managing to hold back the cursing until I collapsed.
“Oh, Harlan, dear,” Victoria said, supporting me so I could pull myself up onto the pillows. Her scent of vanilla sugar was strangely comforting. I trusted her, though I had no reason to, other than she seemed to like me. “You mustn’t walk. You need your rest. Wald is making some phone calls, and he’s told me your story. If it’s true, then my son can help you. How this has happened is beyond my imagination. We found you bleeding in my daughter’s room with no idea how you’d gotten there.”
