Authors: Debra Glass
Benedict winced as her fingers curled around his arm.
Primrose gasped and lowered her hand. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “When the physician
is finished with Adam you must get him to look at that. It could be broken.”
“I’ll be all right,” Benedict told her as they started up
the stairs. “And so will Adam.”
She searched his gray eyes. Before she’d found those eyes so
cold, so calculating. Filled with lust and diabolical intent. Now she saw
something different. Genuine concern. Affection.
“Thank you, Benedict.”
“I did what anyone in similar circumstances would do. He was
trying to kill you for God’s sake.”
“Well for that, but more for what you did last night.”
The hint of a smile played on his lips. “If I remember
correctly I didn’t do anything.”
“But you did. Because of you I told Adam how I felt. I told
him that I… Oh, if anything happens to him…at least he will have died, knowing…knowing…”
Her tears came out of nowhere. She swatted them away.
Benedict brushed his hand down her back. “There, there. He’s
going to be just fine. Don’t fret.”
Everything seemed to rush over her at once. She couldn’t
draw a deep enough breath. Her heart thundered and she thought she might be
consumed by all this turmoil.
They stopped at Adam’s door. Benedict tapped on it and then
opened it.
Adam sat, propped on several pillows. His lips drew into a
tired smile when he saw Primrose.
She flew toward him, weaving past the doctor and through the
staff who tried to acknowledge her presence as they carried basins and wet
towels out the servants’ door. Cautiously she eased onto the bed. “Darling, are
you all right?”
“Are you?” he asked, his voice hoarse and sluggish. He
reached for her, his eyes darkening as his gaze fell to her neck where she was
certain purplish bruises had appeared.
“I’ll be perfectly fine.” She turned to smile at Benedict.
“Thanks to our cousin.”
“His lordship needs his rest, Lady Black,” Gallagher said.
“I very much agree,” Primrose said, taking Adam’s hands in
hers. She kissed each one. “Thank heavens you’re all right.”
“It was Hamish—” Adam began.
“I know, I know,” Primrose said, brushing her cheek against
Adam’s knuckles.
“The amount he consumed would have killed him had Lord
Lashwood not switched the earl’s medicine,” the doctor declared.
Primrose swallowed thickly, forcing away the possibility
that she could have lost him.
“When I began to suspect his nurse of having some
involvement I started switching out the vials every time I paid my uncle a
visit,” Benedict said.
“We all owe you a great debt of gratitude,” Adam said, his
speech still slurred.
“There’ll be time for that later,” Benedict said as the last
of the servants departed. “Dr. Gallagher and I will see how Thorley is doing.”
Gallagher lifted his eyebrows. “I imagine the earl will make
a full recovery now that he’s not suffering the effects of slow poisoning.”
Adam’s face softened. “He’ll be…well?”
“In time I expect so,” Gallagher said. “I hope you can
forgive me for misdiagnosing him but the symptoms of the poison mimicked brain
fog…and his age. I’ve never seen such a diabolical plot. You have my deepest
sympathy, my lord.” He bowed his head and left with Benedict who closed the
door behind them.
Primrose sighed with relief and cradled Adam’s face in her
hands. “I never would have thought Hamish would stoop so low.”
“It’s my fault,” Adam muttered.
Primrose shook her head. “The circumstances of your birth
have nothing to do with it. Thorley accepted and acknowledged you as his own.
He raised you as his own. Hamish would have killed us all. Just for the title.”
Adam threaded his fingers into the hair at her nape and drew
her down so that her head rested on his chest. He crushed her in an embrace for
several seconds before he released her. “How did you know that I hadn’t simply
fallen back into old habits? Why didn’t you walk away and leave me to die?”
She lifted her head far enough to look into his eyes.
“Because I love you. I do, Adam. I love you.”
He caressed her cheek. “And I love you. I always have.” He folded
her in his arms again so that her ear was pressed against his thudding heart.
“I always have.”
Growing up in the south, where the air is thick with stories
steeped in legend and truth, Debra came by her love of romance novels honestly.
Well…sort of. At an early age, she pilfered from her grandmother’s extensive
library and has been a fan of the genre since.
A full-time freelance writer, Debra especially enjoys
combining history, mystery and a touch of taboo to weave stories with
unforgettable, haunted heroes.
She lives in Alabama with her sexy real life hero, a couple
of smart-aleck ghosts and a diabolical black cat.
Debra welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Ellora’s Cavemen:
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Some
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Rakehell
ISBN 9781419939259
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Rakehell Copyright © 2013 Debra Glass
Edited by Julie Naughton
Cover design by Syneca
Cover photography by CURAphotography/ fotolia.com, David
Hughes/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication December 2013
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