Page 94 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
She waved a hand.“Merely an accident.”
“When he slashed her with his sword, she shot off his toe.”
She lifted her cup but saw that her hand was shaking too much to drink from it.Settling it into the saucer, she drew in a deep breath.“You must write Mr.Walker and ask him to offer prayers that the Duque’s wound doesn’t fester.Much as I despise the grief the Duque caused…” She glanced at Shaldon.Given the scars on his body, he had suffered the most.“I don’t want to take any man’s life.”
Quentin nodded, his mouth still agape.“May I also tell him about you, my lady?”
“Yes.And I shall pay him a visit soon, if he is willing to receive me.”
He pushed back his chair.“I am feeling well enough to excuse myself and return to my lodging.I’ve intruded on your hospitality too long, my lord.”
“Penderbrook,” Shaldon said.“Before you make your way to White’s tomorrow, call on Bakeley.He has need of a new steward at his estate in Kent.He would like you to consider the position.It will take you from London, but you will need to visit often for business and to see Lady Jane, and when you do, you will stay here at Shaldon House.It will be more convenient for both of you.”
Her breath caught.He was implying that she would still be living here.She must set him straight.
“Th-thank you, my lord.”
Jane took the younger man’s hand.“When you are finished with Bakeley tomorrow, come and see me in Gerrard Street.”
“Gerrard Street?”Quentin looked from her to Shaldon and back again.
“Lady Hackwell is allowing me use of her home there.”She walked with him to the door.“Thank you for defending my honor.”
“I didn’t—”
“Yes, you did.And you would have certainly been killed had Lord Shaldon not intervened.I am glad you were not.”
He frowned down at her.“You should not have come out today, Mother.It’s not done.”
Bully her, would he?
She glanced over at Shaldon.Would he chastise her also?
“I’m not some helpless female,” she said.
“Listen to your mother, Penderbrook,” Shaldon said.“She’s not a bit helpless.You’ll find most women aren’t.”
He nodded to her, and sudden heat bolted through her, magnetic, overpowering.She whipped her gaze back to the young man in front of her, beating back sudden moisture.Shaldon would see that all went well for her son.He would take care of Quentin, and herself if she would allow it.
“Thank you, Mother.”Quentin lifted her hand, kissed it, and slipped out.
She wrapped her arms at her waist and felt the pulling of the stitches and the weight of the wound.When a hand firmed under her elbow, she leaned into it.
The door closed on Penderbrook,and Shaldon drew her close.
She gasped.
“Damn it, I’ve hurt you.”He gentled his touch.
“I’m fine.”
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?Between the two of us we’ll have but two able arms for the next few days.”In truth, his own shoulder was beginning to throb more.He led her back to the chair.“I have more I must say.We are not finished.Can you manage the teapot?”
She frowned but obliged him, filling a cup.When she lifted her gaze to his, color had risen in her cheeks.Wisps of hair framed her face and her eyes had turned midnight blue.
She was not finding her way back to Gerrard Street.He would not allow it.
But…but if he must let her go, he would, if what he had to say drove her away.
