Rebecca (20 page)

“My pleasure,” he said as he shook the proffered hand. “If I may say so, Lord Foxbridge, both you and your sister should get some rest tonight if possible. It won't be a short recovery, and you don't need to get ill also.”

“I understand.”

Brody was waiting patiently in the hallway to take the doctor back to the front door. When he saw the smile on Lord Foxbridge's face, he sighed with relief. As the two men walked away, Nicholas turned to Eliza. “You heard Dr. Scott, sister. Go to bed. I will need your help tomorrow.”

She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You rest, too, Nicholas. Let Collette watch Rebecca for a few hours.”

“Yes,” he lied, “I'll do that. Good night. Oh, Eliza, you can tell Mother that Rebecca is going to be all right.” Bitterly, he added, “I'm sure she will be overjoyed to hear that.”

His sister said nothing. Neither could understand Lady Margaret's continuing enmity toward Rebecca. It was ripping the family apart. Nicholas sided with his wife, and poor Eliza was caught in the middle. She did not want to choose. She liked Rebecca, but she did not want to hurt her mother, whom she loved, by showing that friendship.

Nicholas went back to the bedroom. Tersely, he told Collette to get something to eat and a few hours' sleep. He would call her later if he needed her. She did not dare to argue, for no one would convince Lord Foxbridge to leave his lady's side tonight.

Sitting on the chair next to the bed, he looked at Rebecca with a critical eye. A lump rose from her forehead where she must have struck the ground. Her hands were scratched from hitting the briars when she had been caught unaware by the trap. It was her injured leg that drew his attention. Collette had cut one of Rebecca's nightdresses shorter so that the ragged hem was above the line of bandages. The strips of cloth continued to turn a deeper red as the cuts ooozed her lifeblood from her body. The leg was a grotesque copy of the slender one next to it.

When her eyes opened a slit, her lips tilted in a smile. “Nicholas!”

“Yes, sweetheart, I am here with you.”

“Don't leave me alone this time,” she whispered as her fingers slid over his.

Shame filled him as her recalled how he had been so angry with her on the
Prize
that he had left her to recover on her own. That angry, jealous man seemed to be a part of someone else's life. He could not imagine being away from Rebecca when she needed him. Since those first, hate-filled days, they had learned to care for each other. Perhaps not love, but it was no longer hate.

He leaned forward to kiss her colorless lips. “I will be here as much as you want, Rebecca. You must be a good patient so you can get better as quickly as possible.”

When she did not reply, he saw she had drifted away into a sleep which would help cure her weakened body. There was no use being irate that he had not found her when he had gone through the copse earlier. She had been found. No one had had to tell him that to spend the night in the grip of that snare would have been fatal to her.

As Nicholas had predicted, Rebecca was a model patient for the first few days. She did not complain once of her pain, although her suffering was revealed by the whiteness of her pinched features. When Dr. Scott changed the bandages, she simply closed her eyes and fisted her fingers as she made no sound to show how much it hurt.

The only time Nicholas left her side was when he had to attend to business which could not be postponed. He had had a pallet brought in so he could sleep on the floor next to her. He did not want her to awaken in the night and be alone. When she had joked about them sharing a room, he had been pleased, for it showed that she was accepting her slow recuperation as well as could be expected.

The trouble began when the sharpest pains passed, and Rebecca became bored with her confinement. He could offer her books to read and needlework to do, but that soon was not enough. Eliza was the only other one who visited her. Lady Margaret had called once to fulfill her obligation to her injured daughter-in-law, but had not returned. Although Curtis sent his wishes for a quick recovery, it would not have been proper for him to visit when Rebecca was dressed simply in a cut-off nightgown and robe.

Two weeks after the accident, Nicholas was sitting in the room with her when he threw down his quill onto the dressing table he had been using as a desk. “That's it!” he shouted, angrily. “I am tired of it, Rebecca! I have heard enough complaints.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Don't yell at me. I'm tired of it, too. I hate being stuck in this room all the time.”

He said nothing as he went to her closet. Grabbing one of her dresses, he tossed it on the bed. From the bottom of the cupboard, he pulled a pair of shoes. He put one back with a sigh. Although most of the swelling had left her right leg, her foot would not fit into its shoe. She would have to wear a satin slipper instead. As he drew a pair of stockings and clean lingerie from her dresser, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“It's Sunday. I thought you might like to go to church.”

“Church?” she gasped. “I can go out? When did the doctor say that?”

“Yes, yes, and he told me to delay it as long as possible,” he replied with a smile. “I think if I had heard one more complaint, I would have done something wild like this.”

He leaned over the bed and pulled her into his arms. Her lips beneath his sent a warm glow of desire through him. Slowly he released her. Even the gentle kisses and touching he wanted to share with her might injure her more, and he would not do anything to risk this sweet lady. Softly, as he stared into her love-glazed eyes, he said, “I will send Collette in to help you dress, sweetheart. While I'm changing, I'll have Sims bring the carriage around. I shall be back in about ten minutes. Is that time enough?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. All she wanted now was to bring those delightful lips back over hers. She would be content to stay in this bed if he would share it with her. As he strode out of the room, she was glad he had not been looking at her when that thought came into her head. The longing to be Nicholas' wife in more than name haunted her, but she must remember the promise that bound her to another man.

Collette twittered happily as she came into the room. She helped Rebecca get dressed in record time. There was no time for doing her hair, so they simply brushed it back and tied it with a ribbon.

When Nicholas returned, he smiled as he saw her dressed normally again. “You look lovely, sweetheart.”

“My hair—”

“Is perfect.” He winked broadly at Collette as, stooping, he picked Rebecca up from the bed with no sign of strain. The maid ran ahead to open the doors. He went through each carefully. With Collette and Brody's help, he was able to get downstairs without worrying about missing one of the steps.

When they stepped out into the sunshine, Rebecca's smile widened. Nicholas knew the delight she was feeling, for he had known the same sense of liberation when he had emerged from his wartime prison to see that the sun still shone and the clouds still blew across the sky on the breeze.

He sat her on the seat and joined her in the lovely vehicle. As soon as Sims had closed the door and had started it down the driveway, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

“Thank you for what, sweetheart?” he asked as he rubbed her back. It seemed so wonderful to be able to hold her again. If he had lost Rebecca, he was sure he would have lost his mind also. She was becoming as much a part of his life as breathing.

“For everything,” she answered. “For putting up with me, most of all. This is the second time you have had to help me recover.”

He laughed. “If we are keeping score, I am willing to let the game be over. I don't want you hurt so ever again.”

On the ride into the village, she leaned her head on him and propped up her leg on his which was balanced on the opposite seat. Her own legs were too short to reach the other bench without straining the abused muscles. When the vehicle hit an unavoidable bump, she winced, but did not complain. She was so happy to have escaped her bedroom prison, she was willing to put up with some additional pain.

As two weeks before, all heads turned as the sexton ran forward. A rumble of whispered asides filled the sanctuary when Lord Foxbridge came into the church with his lady in his arms. He thanked the sexton for opening their pew as if it was the most ordinary thing for them to be attending the services. Although Rebecca could not stand for the hymns, she joined in the singing enthusiastically. Her joy spilled over into her lovely voice.

Reverend Middleton was as pleased as Rebecca when he came over to the carriage to talk to her before the Wythes went back to Foxbridge Cloister. When he had heard of her terrible accident, he had been miserable. He had called at Foxbridge Cloister, but had been told that Lady Foxbridge could receive no visitors.

“Thank you for your kind concern, Reverend,” she said. “I was told you had called, but, for several days, I was in no condition to talk to anyone.”

“A full recovery is expected?” he asked, hoping he was not being too nosy.

She did not seem to mind. “Dr. Scott is very optimistic that soon I will be dancing at the local balls.” She laughed. “Of course, I have to be invited to one first.”

He joined in her laughter. Lady Foxbridge was very candid, and he enjoyed her company so much he had not been able to get her out of his mind for the past two weeks. He did not examine his own feelings of why he had thought more of this lovely lady than was proper. “That is wonderful, my lady. If it isn't too presumptuous of me at this early point in your recovery, I was wondering if you would be interested in being involved in our church fair coming up in a month.”

“Church fair?”

“Yes, my lady. We are trying to raise money to replace the steeple that was burnt by a lightning strike last summer.” He pointed to a charred spot on the roof of the building. “We were lucky we did not lose our whole church, yet we miss the dignity it had before. It's our hope to rebuild it someday and have a bell to toll the holy days.”

Rebecca knew he hoped she would put the name of Lady Foxbridge behind this project to bring the support of the other wealthy families in the area. “What could I possibly do?” She laughed. “Nothing that requires two feet at this point, I am afraid.”

He wondered why her laughter was sweeter than the sound of his imagined church bell. It felt as if a heavy weight was on his chest as he felt his breath quicken just by being near her. Unable to control the rapid beat of his heart, he said, “I have heard how lovely you sing, my lady. Would you be willing to teach the youngsters some songs to sing at the fair? It is something that you can do without straining yourself. The children can come here or out to the Cloister, whichever is more convenient for you, if you are willing.”

Knowing that having the village youngsters at the Cloister would cause more trouble with Lady Margaret, she told him she would be glad to help at the church. If he would inform her of the best time for rehearsal, she would help. It was something she could do easily, for working with children always had been a joy for her.

He thanked her profusely and vowed to have the details to her by Tuesday at the latest. When he wished her a good day, he went to talk to her husband who had been speaking with his tenants. They had taken the opportunity to present their landlord with problems on their farms. He listened and made appointments to see most of them early in the week. Some of the complaints he dismissed as too petty for his concern. Nicholas expected his people to be self-sufficient and only come to him when the problems involved two or more farms.

When he spoke to the minister, he thanked him for coming to see Rebecca after the news of the accident had circulated through the shire. “I think you can expect that she will be coming to church regularly, Reverend.”

“And you, Lord Foxbridge?” he asked, impressing himself with his audacity in approaching the man so openly.

Nicholas grinned, once again reminding the onlookers of the fallen angel. “Don't ask too much from an old sinner too quickly, Reverend. Perhaps when the demands of Foxbridge Cloister have lessened slightly, you will see me more often. Good day, Reverend.”

“Good day, my lord.” He stepped backward involuntarily as the man moved past him.

Although his face was blank, Reverend Middleton wondered how the sweetly vibrant Rebecca Wythe could have married this dark man who stirred awe in the dullest of his people. Many marriages were arranged, so it might not have been a love match between Lord Foxbridge and his lady. He was very sorry for Lady Foxbridge if that was the truth, for he did not think her cold husband would have much compassion for his wife.

Normally astute at deciphering the intricacies of human nature, Reverend Middleton did not realize his error. It came from the fact he had fallen in love with the lady he had met only twice. His idea to ask her to become involved in the church fair had nothing to do with her title. He just wanted to be sure he would have opportunities to see Rebecca more often. Foolishly, the minister was letting his heart rule his head in regard to the one woman who should have been off-limits to him, for her husband controlled the living of the vicarage.

When Nicholas entered the carriage, he sighed. Rebecca glanced at him and saw there was a smile on his face. She took his hand in hers. “Are you as happy as you look or as sad as you sound?”

“Happy, Rebecca. Happy because you are well. Happy because you are happy now as I am.” He drew her head down to rest against his chest. “I am finding it quite a surprise to discover how much I am enjoying all this business of being Lord Foxbridge. Years ago, I would have raced away if it had been suggested that I would be interested in solving tenant disputes and arranging the planting schedules.” He chuckled. “I now am so wrapped up in all of it that even an outing to church with you becomes a business meeting.”