Page 27 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“It was not worth it for me,” she muttered.
“No, I see that.” He turned toward her, even though he couldn’t see a blasted thing. “I’m a terrible burden on you.”
“Stop saying that.” She touched his hand, and instinctively he grasped it. “I’ve brought a compress for your head. May I put it on?”
“Please.” And then he nearly moaned in relief as she draped a thick cloth over his eyes and forehead. It smelled of lavender and was cool and damp to the touch. And even better, she took his hand again once it was settled.
“Do you want more laudanum?”
“No,” he said on a sigh. “This feels marvelous. Will you stay and talk to me?”
Her hand flinched in his. “It’s probably better if you rest quietly...”
“I’m going quietly mad from quietly resting,” he said a bit testily. “Please. Talk about the weather, I don’t care.”
She laughed. “That would send anyone into a stupor.”
“Faster than laudanum,” he agreed. “What did we talk of before?”
An ominous silence greeted this query.
Rob cursed himself but forged on. “I cannot remember anything of your interests. Horse racing? Theater? Politics?” Those all sounded appealing to him.
“Oh. Er... some?” The lilt of her voice made it sound uncertain. “Theater, and some politics—I know very little about it. Lady Sidlow tells me it’s not something young ladies should tax their brains with and she refuses to take the political papers.”
“Why not?” he exclaimed. “Many ladies care deeply about politics.”
She gave a little snort of disgust. “And perhaps when I am married I shall be at liberty to care as well.”
He was inordinately pleased that she referred to their marriage. “You shall be. Of course I’ll allow it.”
Another fraught silence. “Horse racing isn’t my passion,” she said hastily. “Although I did like the Ascot, the one time I attended. I envied the jockeys—what a thrill it must be to ride so fast! Sir Charles has a very fast gelding, and I shall miss him terribly when I go back to London.”
“There’s nowhere to ride all-out in London.” Something fluttered at the back of his mind; therewasa place that was ideal for riding all-out, across grassy fields and atop dunes overlooking the sea. He could almost feel the wind blowing his hair back, and the horse surging beneath him. Where was that?
“Nor permission to do it,” she grumbled, unaware of the memory taunting him, just out of reach.
The glimmering memory faded, leaving him frustrated but also hopeful. Perhaps if he didn’t think directly about it, it would become clearer in his mind. “Who is Lady Sidlow?”
“My long-suffering, shockingly overtaxed chaperone.” She said it so wryly, he laughed, despite the danger that it might make his head rupture.
“Because you’ve no family.”
She hesitated. “Yes, that’s right. My brother engaged her to bring me out in London. She was a friend of my mother’s, although for the life of me I cannot see how. She’s quite stiff and pompous and is forever prosing on about how ramshackle and hoydenish I am.”
“Never,” he said loyally. “She sounds like the most dreadful old dragon.” It struck him that he must have met this woman, during the years of their engagement. “I shudder to imagine what she thinks of me, if she finds you a hoyden.”
Another long pause. “Pooh!” She laughed. “She looks forward to me being married and no longer her responsibility—I’ve no doubt she sighs and clucks her tongue in pity whenever she thinks of my husband.”
“I feel tempted to send her a bouquet every year and expound at length on how happily married we are.”
“Well,” she said after another pregnant pause. “I think she would be enormously astonished if you did.”
He grinned. “I like surprising people.”
Her fingers twitched again. “I see that,” she said softly.
Rob had a feeling he had been surprising her a great deal lately. Why was that? Had he changed so greatly as a result of being beaten on the head? Again he thought that he might not want to know what he had been like before.
