The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) (4 page)

Slumping in defeat, she leaned back against the headboard, but immediately gasped and bolted upright. Sharp, burning pain shot through her body, letting her know she was very much alive.

She winced at the throbbing in her head and back, and reached up to massage her temples. What in the world had happened? How had she gotten here?
Think, Jewel. Think.
She remembered a ship, but what ship? And why was her memory so vague? Lost in her confusion, she barely heard the creak of the door.

“Ye done an’ woke up, lass.” A stout little woman entered the room with a tray in her hands. “ ’Tis aboot time.”

Startled, Jewel tried to scream, but her lips were so parched that only a squeak slipped out as she warily watched the older woman’s slow and unhurried movements—a woman she didn’t know.

“ ’Tis good to be seein’ those wee eyes open.” The lady tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Why, ye have the darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re simply beautiful, lass. I knew they would be.” The chattering woman winked at her cheerfully.

Setting the tray down on the bedside table, she bent over and squeezed Jewel’s arms in an affectionate gesture. “There will be no frownin’. It’ll be causin’ lots of wrinkles on that bonny face. Take it from one who knows.”

Jewel tried to laugh at the bouncing little lady with the gray hair, which only made her head hurt worse. She cleared her throat and managed to whisper, “Water.”

Immediately, a glass was brought to her lips. After a few cooling sips Jewel apologized. “I’m sorry I frowned at you. It’s just that I’ve been sitting here trying to remember what happened.” She tried to ignore the quiver of her stomach and her ice-cold hands. “Do I know you?” Even her own scratchy voice didn’t sound familiar.

“Nay, lass.”

“I see,” Jewel said, even though she really didn’t see at all. “If I don’t know you, then how did I get here?”

“Adam found ye on the beach.”

“Adam? Beach?” Jewel’s confusion grew. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Ye don’t remember a thin’, lass?”

Jewel shook her head, despair wrinkling her brow. “I don’t know where I am, and I can’t for the life of me remember anything but my name.”

“And that bein’?”

“My name is Jewel. . . .” She paused a moment. “I—I can’t even remember my surname.” Exasperation infused her nervous voice and tears burned her eyes.

Stepping up on the stool, the nice lady sat on the bed and patted her hand. “Now, lass, don’t be a worryin’. The doctor said this could happen. ’Tis quite common with an accident, but yer memory will be returnin’,” the woman assured her, brushing her hair off her forehead. “And probably when ye least be expectin’ it.”

The motherly gesture caused a lump in Jewel’s throat. “Where am I?”

“First, let me introduce myself. My name is Annie Pritchard, and I’ve worked for His Grace since he was a wee bairn.”

“Who?” Jewel raised a brow in question.

“His Grace, Adam Trent, Duke of St. Ives. Ye be stayin’ at his castle, Briercliff, in Cornwall. ’Tis Adam’s country estate, and lucky for ye he be hatin’ the city and ’twas in residence, or ye might never have been found.”

Jewel realized she was in England, and the fact didn’t surprise her. She also had a feeling that England spelled trouble for her. Perhaps her memory would come back little by little, but until she knew who these strangers were, she’d best keep anything she remembered to herself.

“Well, I’m thankful to His Grace, and I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for both of you.”

“Dinna fret yerself lass. For a while we didn’t think ye’d survive. The important thin’ now is to get ye well. Are ye hungry?”

Jewel nodded, smiling once again at Annie’s kindness. She seemed a caring person with her mothering ways, perhaps someone who could be trusted. But trusted for what?

Jewel’s stomach rumbled in anticipation as she smelled the food brought in earlier. Annie slid from the bed and picked up the tray, placing it across Jewel’s lap. Jewel reached and pinched off a bit of bread, then spread the remainder of the slice with thick, creamy butter and jam, savoring every mouthful. “This strawberry jam is very good.”

“I took the chance ye’d be awake this morning’. Eat slow, lass,” Annie cautioned. “The wild strawberries I found in the glen last spring. Maybe when yer able, I can show ye where they are. ’Tis a beautiful place.”

Jewel wiped her mouth with the linen napkin and laid it on the tray. “I didn’t know I was so hungry. It must have been days since I’ve last eaten.”

Tired of sitting without support, Jewel tried to prop a couple of pillows behind her; however, stiffness prevented even this simple task. Annie fluffed the bolsters and helped ease Jewel back, but the minute her shoulder touched the pillows, she let out a blood-curdling yelp.

“Damnation! My back hurts! What happened to it?” Looking down, Jewel noticed for the first time the bandages wrapped around her midsection. “What are all these bindings for?” She looked up to see Annie gasp. “What’s wrong?”

“Ye language, lass. ’Tis not considered very lady-like to be swearin’,” Annie cautioned, then added, “Ye really canna remember a thin’?”

“No.” Jewel tried to recall anything. “I remember a ship, but nothing more.”

Annie spent the next half hour explaining how Adam and
Jonathan had found her on the beach. She also told Jewel that Dr. Perkins had made a special ointment, hoping to prevent the scarring of her back.

“You said beaten.” Jewel mumbled the words. “I wonder what I could have done to deserve such harsh treatment.”

“I don’t know.” Annie shook her head. “Mayhap you fell afoul of somebody truly wicked. But it does a body no good to brood,” Annie said firmly as she removed the tray. “Let’s be takin’ one day at a time, and before ye know it yer memory will return. I’m sure ye canna have done anythin’ wrong.”

Jewel’s eyelids felt heavy. “I fear I’m still very tired.”

“I’ve probably tarried too long, but ’tis good to have someone young here again. Everyone has grown much too serious over the years. Rest now, lass,” Annie said as she patted Jewel on her arm. “Rest be the best medicine. I’ll look in on ye later.”

Adam wasn’t a man to be kept waiting. But waiting was just what he had been doing until yesterday when word had arrived that the
Merry Weather
had finally docked in London.

Mid-afternoon, he set out for the rendezvous point. The usual meeting place had been changed to a tavern called The Black Lady. Adam strode down several cobblestone streets, heading in the direction of the docks. Now the tavern lay just ahead.

Pausing, he read the crooked sign over the door. It hung by a single bolt and appeared ready to fall at any given moment. The sign swayed and squealed as he pushed open the black wooden door. Luckily, the sign held.

Ale and sweat infested the stale air as he peered through the smoke lingering above the scattered tables. Adam carefully moved between the patrons. Spying a vacant table in the comer, he headed in that direction. The wall would provide good protection for his back, and he had an excellent view of the door. His gaze traveled over the riffraff and vaga
bonds who called this place home.

Swinging the chair around, he adjusted his faded brown jacket and sat down. At the moment, Adam didn’t resemble the Duke of St. Ives. His face sported a three-day growth of stubble, but he had to look like the occupants of the pub if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“Ale, luv?” The black-haired wench placed a mug on the table. Adam tossed her a coin and watched as she made her way to another table. Her black hair reminded him of Jewel, and he wondered if she had regained consciousness. He hoped that when he returned home, she’d be able to answer his many questions.

Adam rubbed the coarse stubble on his chin. He still couldn’t fathom the beating she’d received; however, he did know she possessed a haunting beauty that intrigued him and kept her in his thoughts more than he liked to admit.

The door swung open, and Adam saw his contact enter. Cameron looked around the room before moving into the dim light. Adam raised his hand and immediately gained his friend’s attention.

“Mate.” Cameron nodded as he took his seat. “How have you been faring?”

Adam smiled at the code they used. If he didn’t answer correctly, Cameron would know something was wrong.

“By the seat of me pants, lad, by the seat of me pants.” Adam chuckled.

Leisurely, they drank ale and talked in their darkened comer. Cameron passed him the packet unnoticed under the table.

“How’s Jackson?” Adam asked.

“He’s up to his ass in Creeks.”

“Really?” Adam smiled. He could almost picture Hawk astride a horse with a gun in each hand ready to do battle. “Sounds like he’s enjoying himself as usual. He’s always liked a good fight.”

They continued their discussion while drinking a second mug of ale. As they stood to leave, Adam slipped the papers into his coat. They had started for the door when a big, burly hand reached out and grabbed Adam’s left arm.

“Whatcha hurry, mate?” the intoxicated bloke mumbled.

Adam didn’t say a word as he shook off the man. His menacing stance should have been a warning for the offender. But it wasn’t.

“I’ll just be relievin’ ya of that packet, mate. The way you’re clutching the thing, I’d say it were worth somethin’.”

Adam noticed the room had grown quiet in anticipation. “Then again you could be mistaken,” Adam said as he turned to leave.

“He’s got a knife!” Cameron shouted.

Adam swung around, raising his left arm to deflect the blow and at the same time throwing a right jab to the sailor’s midsection. His opponent fell backwards and hit the floor with a loud thud. Feeling the man was out cold, Adam once again started to leave.

He was almost to the door when the hairs on the back of his neck warned him something wasn’t right. He spun around, drew his gun, and fired just as his adversary pulled out a pistol. Adam’s bullet nicked his assailant’s hand, and the man dropped his gun to the floor.

Walking over to the man, who lay sprawled on the floor, Adam searched the sailor’s face to see if he recognized him. The sailor looked scared, and Adam decided the man wasn’t a British spy. His only fault was that he was drunk.

Adam and Cameron parted outside the tavern. Even though killing wasn’t second nature to Adam, he had come to accept it as a part of the secret life he’d chosen. This time, it had been avoided.

Now it was time to take care of his other problem. He was heading to Briercliff.

Dr. Perkins entered the room, followed by Annie. “It’s good to see your eyes open, young lady.”

“Thank you.”

“Lie very still. I’m going to remove the bandages from your back.” Carefully, he detached each dressing until Jewel’s skin was exposed. He then took warm water and sponged off the thick white medicine.

Pushing down gently on the thin streaks, he asked, “Does this cause you pain?”

“A little.” She jerked. “But I can tell I’m not as sore as I was a week ago. Sometimes my back feels tight, and I do experience tenderness if I move suddenly.” Jewel felt a little more soreness than she admitted, but she longed to get out of this bed.

“That’s to be expected. The tightness comes from the healing process. I have an idea that you’re experiencing a little more pain than you let on, my dear.”

“Look, Annie, do you see this?” The doctor pointed to the once-bloody cuts on her back. “The welts have turned pink and are no longer angry and red. I say, they’ve closed up nicely, and that’s a very good sign. Once again, my miracle salve has done its job.”

“If I’d not be seein’ with me own eyes the before and after, I’d never be believin’ it was possible!” Annie exclaimed.

“What is it?” Anxiety twisted Jewel’s insides as she turned her head to see them. How awful could her back look?

“My dear, you will be very fortunate. You’ll have scars, but I believe your scarring will be minor. You might have red marks now, but given time, they should fade.”

Jewel pulled up her gown, then turned to face the doctor. “Dr. Perkins, how will I ever repay you?” She glanced down at her hands before looking back at the doctor. “I’m afraid I’m short of funds, but I’ll gladly work off my fee.” She felt herself blush.

The doctor took her hand in his and gazed into her eyes.

“You don’t owe me a thing. His Grace has taken care of everything. He’ll be pleased that you will be up and about upon his return. Perhaps you should stay in bed just a few more days.” Dr. Perkins smiled. “Just give it time, my dear.”

Jewel waited a good hour after everybody had left the room before deciding to test her legs. There was no way she was going to stay confined any longer. Throwing back the covers, she quickly came to an upright position—too quickly. The room began to spin, and she grabbed the edge of the mattress to steady herself. She had to wait for the dizziness to subside; then slowly she opened her eyes and tried to focus on the rug far below. This had to be the tallest bed she’d ever seen—her feet dangled well above the floor.