Page 17 of Captivating the Countess
“If all you wish to know about me is how much wine I drink and my taste for fish instead of fowl, then I’m not particularly concerned. I need to return to my office. You should leave yours a little early if you work through meals like this.”
“I think I should like to watch the children play instead. I noticed they can be seen from the conservatory. If you don’t mind?”
“That’s an excellent notion. You might even thaw out since the gardeners keep it warm. I’m going that direction. I’ll escort you. Take your tea tray. There is a table there.”
Rain knew he was off his head to pay attention to a woman who heard ghosts and kept his books, but she was a lady, he was a gentleman, and habit was ingrained. It took every ounce of concentration not to remove the tray from her hands.
Today she wore a dowdy gray gown with none of the frills and furbelows and artificial protuberances that fashion demanded. She almost looked like a servant with only a single skirt and petticoat. The realization that she wasn’t wearing an acre of underpinnings caused him to step back and admire her sway as she proceeded him down the corridor. He was fairly certain if she wore a corset, it wasn’t a rigid one.
He did not dally with the servants, he reminded himself fiercely.
But as he held the door open for her, the fresh scent of rosemary and proximity of feminine charms left him aroused and wanting a great deal more than her company.
She set her tray down on the wrought iron table and smiled at him dismissively. “Thank you, my lord. This is perfect. You should hurry back to your patients.”
A snowball smacked a glass pane, and she dropped like a rock.
Seven
Bell woke up on a cushioned,wrought iron lounge with snow beating against the window panes and the most gorgeous man in existence kneeling beside her, rubbing her wrist.
“Your pulse stopped,” he said accusingly.
Oh, right, she had a spirit in her head shoutingSave my son. She rubbed her temple to dispel any trace of the nag. “I should ask the duke about his mother. She seems to be a very... forceful... presence.”
The marquess scowled and stood to tower over her. “Your heart stops beating and you have hallucinations.”
Refusing to be cowed, Bell swung her legs off the comfortable cushions. “No, I’m very sure I don’t. It would be lovely to explain away the spirits as a physical anomaly, but they’ve always been there. I’ve not died of heart failure. And a time or two, they’ve even been helpful.”
“One of these times, you won’t wake up.” He sounded furious.
“Well, there isn’t much I can do about it. I try not to be easily startled so they can’t invade. I seek quiet. But I cannot live in a tomb. May I speak to the duke about his mother?” Tugging her shawl around her, Bell took the chair at the tea table overlooking the children frolicking in the snow.
Rainford clenched his fists, even though his features were perfectly composed. “My grandmother was from Norway. She died when my father was only twelve or so. He can’t tell you anything. I’ll send a maid to sit with you.”
Norway? The woman in her head was Norwegian? That almost made sense. Living in Inverness, Bell’s family had accumulated a great deal of Norse blood over the centuries. Like called to like?
She glared at him. “I’ll not have a maid. As you see, I recover quickly. A maid is most likely to give me fits and starts with her chatter and squirming.”
“Fits and starts! Is that what you call a serious medical condition? Perhaps if it’s loud noises that startle you, you should stuff cotton in your ears!”
Bell knew he was being sarcastic, but she seriously considered the notion. “I can try that. I’m not sure it will muffle sound much, but it should be an amusing experiment. Don’t you want to tell me to loosen my corset? That’s the usual medical advice.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists as if he’d throttle her. “You are naturally slender and have no need to tighten your corset. In fact, you need to eat more.”
She bit into a sandwich and eyed him warily as she chewed. That seemed to calm him more than her perfectly rational verbal responses.
“You could be reacting to a lack of proper food. Did you eat breakfast?”
“I’m sure you have patients waiting for you, my lord. I’m not one of them. Go away. Let me enjoy my tea before it cools.”
Perverse as she was, she actually enjoyed Rainford’s attention. She hadn’t had anyone fretting over her since her mother died nearly a decade ago. It was rather pleasant knowing a handsome lord was concerned about her welfare. But she was quite certain he had better things to do.
He found a blanket in a cabinet and threw it over her lap. “Stay warm. Eat. I’ll check on you later.”
She sighed in regret as he stalked out, spine stiff as if she’d offended him. The gentleman had shoulders wide enough to fill a doorway.
Basking in the warmth and greenery of the conservatory’s unusually lovely and overgrown jungle, Bell nibbled at her food and watched the children play. She’d guess the eldest to be ten or so, the youngest barely able to walk. Since she didn’t dare have children of her own, it would be nice to watch these grow up—
