Page 31 of Captivating the Countess
“Can we visit your father and try hands-on healing before we make any decisions?”
“I don’t want to raise his hopes,” he warned.
“He’s a Malcolm. He knows what you’re up against. Perhaps he can give us tips or talk about his mother.”
He dreaded the conversation but nodded. “Tomorrow then.”
Bell triedto bury herself in her work the next day, but the entire castle was abuzz with guests wandering about and women gossiping in every corner and Alicia popping in and out with final tallies on her dance cards.
They’d raised a nice sum for a York orphanage, and apparently some of Alicia’s matchmaking was deemed a success. Bell didn’t consider herself among them, even though the evening had ended with Rain in her chamber.
It was utterly impossible to consider pros and cons of what...? Marriage? Fornication? They hadn’t been thinking clearly, that was obvious. She was amazed that they’d been thinking at all.
She’d had a nearly naked marquess in her bed. He’d come to herwillingly. Rainford was a discriminating man. She was fairly certain he did not go to the bed of every woman who beckoned. Although his curiosity may have been as much of a driving force as her dubious charms. If a woman wanted to ensnare his interest, all she had to do was play mysterious and aloof and stir his curiosity—stupid females who didn’t see that!
But they both wanted to heal his father, so there was aproof some sort. Could they also learn to heal her fainting spells and be rid of the spirits in her head?
She pretty well knew she couldn’t be rid of an innate gift. But if she didn’tfaint... She’d feel a lot better ifshehad control instead of every spirit who became bored and decided they had something to say.
Rain showed up precisely at five, looking as harassed as she felt. “We’ll have supper sent to my father’s room. We won’t have to dress and entertain guests.”
“Isn’t that rude?” She closed the ledger she’d barely worked on.
“I’m a busy man. They know better than to expect me every evening. And I’d rather not punch out gentlemen salivating over you until we settle whatever this is between us. So let us play least in sight.” He took her hand and slid it through the crook of his elbow. Taking the key from her, he locked her office door.
Between them? He felt as if there was something between them also? She wouldn’t be female if she didn’t respond to that notion with a quiver of delight. And she needed to suppress both notion and delight now.
“There is a nagging spirit between us, no more.” Although even she knew better than that. Just holding his arm returned heated memories that she refused to acknowledge.
“Then you are even more innocent than I thought. I have the urge to drag you to the nearest bed and ravish you. I’m not normally inclined to primitive urges, just as you are not normally inclined to float about in steam. There is something between us, even if it’s not easily explained.”
She’d hovered over his bath and watched him soap himself. She briefly closed her eyes in embarrassment. That really hadn’t been a dream? No wonder he’d come to her room—to see if she were still alive and not another ghost haunting his castle walls.
“The evening was over-stimulating,” she protested. “We were tired and worried and a spirit intervened.”
“I will remained tired, worried, and overstimulated until I heal my father and have you in my bed. It is not a state conducive to reason.” The elegant lord in his casual, but tailored, country tweed almost growled his displeasure. “Do you have your list?”
“I could not determine what pros and cons I was to list. But creating a child is probably high on my reasons not to marry.”
“Especially with a Norwegian hag threatening us,” he added ruefully. “There are ways to protect against conception. Although an heir is important in the scheme of things. Marriage only delays the necessity of handing over the trust. It doesn’t remove the stipulation that I must produce an heir.”
They were both Malcolms. She needn’t remind him about Malcolms being unlikely to carry sons. “Another argument against the hag inhabiting me, then. She’s not male.”
He chuckled as he rapped on the duke’s door.
No one answered.
Twelve
Rain knewthe duke was supposed to have a servant with him at all times. He also knew his father was capable of scheming to send them away. But not answering his door if he was in there...
Perhaps he fell asleep. He pushed open the unlocked panel and peered in. The bed was unmade but empty. Dead men didn’t walk. Still, he had to suppress panic as he gestured for Bell to remain in the hall while he entered.
He found his father in the parlor of his suite, sitting beside a crackling fire, wrapped in blankets, and perusing books. The duke appeared a little lost when Rain entered, but gestured for him to take the chair on the other side of the hearth.
“Where’s your valet?” Rain demanded, not taking a seat. He wasn’t a man given to strong emotions, so he had little experience in stifling the fear that had swept over him when his father hadn’t answered the knock. And now he battled an unreasonable anger that he’d had to suffer panic because His Damned Grace hadn’t felt like speaking.
“He’s off preparing potions. Poor man needs company besides mine occasionally. Estelle tells me your new steward was seeing visions in the ballroom last night. Did she learn anything?”
