“So, apparently, we’ll be staying here for at least a month,” Maggie continued, with a sigh. She walked around in a circle, taking in the details of the large room. “At least it’s a beautiful bedchamber. From what I’ve seen, the house is well taken care of. This room is quite large and finely decorated. Lord Clayton must have quite a fortune.”
“Yes, but we won’t be remaining here that long if I can help it,” Thea replied, arching a brow.
Maggie whirled around to face her. “Oh, no. Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of trying to escape with a broken leg.”
A triumphant smile spread over Thea’s lips. “Of course not. That would be dangerous and difficult.”
“As if that’s stopped you before,” Maggie replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
Thea pursed her lips and lifted her nose in the air. “Be that as it may, I have an entirely different plan this time.”
Maggie groaned and let her chin drop to her chest. “Do I even want to know what it is?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s perfectly reasonable and level-headed,” Thea declared with a decisive nod.
“Very well,” Maggie said with a sigh, lifting her chin to face Thea again. “What is it?”
Thea folded her hands together primly and set them atop the blankets. “I intend to write to Anthony and ask him to come fetch us.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ewan spent an inordinate amount of time wondering whether he should ask Lady Theodora if she would like to have dinner with him either in the dining room or in her room. Her presence was a secret from all but a few in the household, of course, so he didn’t see what harm it would cause if they ate dinner alone in her bedchamber. And there would be servants present as chaperones.
He eventually decided that it would be rude to completely ignore her, so he sent a note to her room via James, the footman. Ewan didn’t have long to wait until she replied that she would be delighted to have dinner with him. Delighted seemed a bit of a stretch. Perhaps the laudanum had made her nicer. Or madder?
At exactly eight o’clock that evening, Ewan knocked on Lady Theodora’s bedchamber door. Her maid—Maggie, he believed her name was—answered the door and stepped aside, allowing him entry.
Lady Theodora was sitting atop the bed. She was dressed in a light blue gown, her hair arranged artfully atop her head, and the covers pulled down to her feet. He could imagine she was shoeless, but she had on stockings and her feet were covered by the blankets. A tray sat on her lap and a napkin and utensils rested there. She had a bright smile on her face. “Good evening, my lord,” she said, bowing her head in a greeting.
Ewan couldn’t help but smile in return. “Good evening, my lady.” He bowed at the waist. “I trust you’re comfortable. Or as comfortable as you can be given the circumstances.”
She sighed. “My leg still hurts quite a lot, if I’m being honest, but the occasional bit of laudanum Maggie gives me keeps it from being unbearable.”
Ewan glanced at the maid who barely looked up from her needlework to acknowledge him. “Thank you for coming here, Maggie. And thank you for your assistance in pretending to be employed by me.”
“My pleasure,” Maggie replied, before returning her attention to her needlework.
The footmen had set a small table next to the bed and covered it in linens and all the accoutrements necessarily for a meal. One chair was tucked beneath the table. It might have been the strangest dinner Ewan had ever attended, but everything had been strange since he’d met Lady Theodora Ballard. Why should this be any different?
“May I?” Ewan asked, gesturing toward the chair.
“By all means,” Lady Theodora replied, nodding.
Ewan pulled out the chair and seated himself, while James rushed forward to pour wine into his empty glass. Giles also stepped forward to pour wine into Lady Theodora’s glass.
“I trust you’ve found your accommodations to your liking?” Ewan ventured as he waited for the footmen to finish their task.
“Oh, my room is the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Thea replied, glancing around the large space. “And while we’re on the subject, I must tell you that your stables are the nicest I’ve ever seen.”
“I take that as a great compliment, my lady. Thank you.” The first course of watercress soup was served before Ewan ventured to speak again. “I’ll have to see what I can do about procuring a special chair for you, my lady.”
Lady Theodora glanced up at him and blinked. “A special chair? What do you mean?”
“Dr. Blanchard was telling me that the apothecary has a Bath wheelchair. I intend to purchase it for you.”
Lady Theodora’s eyes widened, and a look of sheer panic spread rapidly across her face. “Oh, no, no, no. Please don’t go to any trouble for me. I’ve already been such a bother.”
Ewan frowned. Had her father told her she was a bother to him? Frankly, Ewan wouldn’t have put it past the man. “No bother at all. It will help you to do more things while you’re here like sit near the window and perhaps even venture out of the room.”
Lady Theodora continued to shake her head. “No, truly. Please don’t go to such an expense on my account.”
“If you’re to stay here for at least a month, my lady, we may as well make the best of it. We have no other choice it seems.”
Lady Theodora ducked her head. “Yes, yes, of course. That sounds lovely.”
Ewan eyed her bent head with suspicion. Why wouldn’t she meet his gaze? What was she up to? He could ask her, but she would hardly be forthcoming. Instead, he decided to bring up something else he wondered about, her relationship with her father.
“I spoke with your father this morning,” Ewan began, lifting a spoonful of soup to his lips.
Was it his imagination or did Lady Theodora’s face turn to stone at the mention of her father? “Yes,” she replied simply, no emotion in her voice.
“He told me something I’m ashamed to admit I had forgotten,” Ewan continued.
Lady Theodora paused in bringing her own soup spoon to her lips. “What’s that, my lord?”
“That your mother died several years ago.”
Lady Theodora’s gaze dropped to her spoon and she brought it to her lips and swallowed before replying. “Yes,” she replied simply.
What was this? The young woman he’d known to trade sharp jabs with him was now replying in monosyllabic words. Was it the laudanum? Or had she simply realized the error of her ways and was purposely behaving like a proper young lady? And more importantly, why did Ewan find himself missing the girl he’d traded barbs with?
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “It must have been difficult for you to lose her. How old were you?”
“Eighteen.” Lady Theodora set down her spoon and stared across the room as if unseeing. “It was the worst time of my life.”
“No doubt,” Ewan replied quietly. “Was she sick for very long?”
“Yes. Months. I was at her bedside taking care of her day and night.”
Ewan’s brow furrowed into a knot. Until this moment, he couldn’t have pictured Lady Theodora working as a nurse at someone’s beck and call around the clock. But watching her face, he knew without a doubt that Lady Theodora was telling the truth.
“How soon after her death did your father sell the horses?” Ewan ventured.
Anger flashed through Lady Theodora’s eyes and for a moment, Ewan wondered whether he should have brought up the obviously sensitive subject.
“They were sold even before my mother took her last breath,” Lady Theodora said, her voice thin but with an unmistakable trace of anger. “I didn’t know because I hadn’t been out to the stables in weeks. I knew it was close to my mother’s time and I refused to leave her alone. My mother’s horse meant the world to her as did Alabaster to me.”
Ewan expelled his breath. Guilt tinged his voice. “So that’s why Alabaster is so important to you.”
Lady Theodora nodded. Her eyes were bright with
a sheen of tears. “I lost the two souls that were the closest to me in this world. My mother, and my horse.” She took a deep, steady breath. “The horse was the only one I had any chance of regaining.”
Ewan felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He didn’t miss Maggie look up from her needlework, tears on her cheeks. As soon as the maid noticed that he’d glanced over, however, she quickly swiped the tears from her cheeks and bent her head back over her needlework.
For the first time in his dealings with Lady Theodora, Ewan felt like a complete ass. The ass she’d called him on the day they’d met. He’d never asked her reasons for wanting Alabaster so badly. He’d merely assumed she wanted the horse because he’d been hers once and she didn’t like losing a treasured possession. But Alabaster wasn’t just a possession to her. He was her family.
They finished their meal trading little more than small talk and niceties. Ewan left Lady Theodora’s room that evening with a heavy heart. He’d pegged the young woman as selfish and self-absorbed, but the truth was she’d apparently given up months of her young life to care for her ailing mother. That was definitely not selfish. He’d misjudged her on that score. What else had he misjudged her about?
Chapter Seventeen
“Have you heard back from Lord Anthony yet, my lady?” Maggie asked Thea the next morning after she’d helped her dress.
“Not yet,” Thea replied. She was sitting atop the covers on the made bed, her leg propped upon pillows, busily sewing a new nightrail for Rosalie, the maid who’d been so kind to allow Thea to borrow her nightrail the night she’d broken her leg. “Perhaps he doesn’t intend to write. My hope is that he will simply appear with a coach and four and take us home. Much more efficient, don’t you think?” Thea finished with a laugh.
Maggie shook her head. “Do you truly think he will?”
Thea nodded firmly. “Anthony won’t leave me here to rot. I’m certain of it.” She returned to her needlework and her thoughts about the dinner last night with Lord Clayton. It had been kind of him to have dinner with her. He easily could have left her shut in the room and just send up a plate. Instead, he’d treated her as a real guest. Not only that, he had somehow managed to ask her about one of the most painful subjects in her life and get her to answer. Thea never talked about losing her mother, never. But somehow with just a few short questions, Lord Clayton had got her to share her deepest feelings with him. How in the world he had managed that, she didn’t know. But she mustn’t spend too much time worrying about it. She had to find a way to get back home. If Anthony didn’t come soon, she would write him again.
Thea had just slipped the needle back into the soft white linen of the nightrail when a loud knock on her bedchamber door made her sit up straight. Maggie met her gaze from her seat near the window. They exchanged a puzzled look before the maid stood, set her embroidery in her chair, and made her way to the door.
The minute the door opened, Lord Clayton came barreling through pushing a wheelchair in front of him.
“Good morning, my lady,” he said with a bright smile, addressing Thea.
“Good morning, my lord,” Thea replied with a similar smile. “What is that?” She gestured toward the chair.
Clayton pushed the wheelchair to the side of her bed. “This is your new wheelchair. I sent James and Giles to town for it early this morning.”
Thea couldn’t help her delighted smile. The chair was shaped like a triangular box with two large wheels at the back and one wheel in front. There was a square box above the front wheel that had a handle atop it and two handles on both sides. Thea stared at it in awe. “You did this for me?” She pointed at herself.
“Of course. It will ensure that your leg is stabilized, and it will make it so that you can get about the house with less trouble. You don’t want to spend your entire stay hidden away in this room, do you?”
Thea blinked at him. She’d honestly believed she would have to spend her entire stay hidden away in this room, not just because of the trouble of moving about with a broken leg, but also because they were trying to keep her presence here a secret. Not to mention the fact that she expected Anthony to arrive at any moment and take her home. A bit of guilt tugged at her conscience. Lord Clayton must have spent quite a lot of coin on this chair, and she was going to leave here the first chance she got. “I hadn’t expected you to procure one so quickly.”
“After we spoke about it last night, I decided to send the footmen to town first thing,” Lord Clayton replied.
Thea’s eyes met his. “That was quite kind of you, my lord,” she said softly. Their gazes held for a long moment before Thea forced herself to look away and shook her head. “Oh, Maggie, do come help me to sit in it.” If the man had gone to the trouble to get her a wheelchair, it would be extremely rude of her not to use it and be thankful for it. Even if only for a day or two …
“No need,” Lord Clayton said, waving away the maid as he pushed the chair up to the end of Thea’s bed and stepped around it. “I’ll help you.”
Thea barely had a moment to register his words before she was unceremoniously scooped up into his arms, broken leg, splint, and all.
She clutched at his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from tipping over, all the while intensely aware of the spicy scent of his cologne and the feel of his muscled arms moving beneath her. Her gaze inadvertently moved to his mouth of all inconvenient places to stop. His firmly molded lips were only scant inches from hers. Thea sucked in her breath. What would it be like to … kiss him? She gulped and glanced away.
Then, just as quickly as he’d lifted her, Lord Clayton set her down in the chair as easily as you please. He even managed to maneuver her broken leg into a wooden contraption on the side of the chair that kept her leg lifted and stabilized.
“I’ve never seen a wheelchair with such an apparatus,” Thea said, more to distract herself from the memory of his muscles and mouth than anything else.
“I made that part myself,” Lord Clayton replied, looking a bit sheepish.
“You what?” Thea blinked at him some more. Surely, she’d misheard him.
Lord Clayton rubbed the back of his neck and squinted his eyes. “Last night, before I went to bed, I was thinking about how we could keep your leg stabilized inside the chair. I couldn’t sleep so I drew a sketch and then went out to the barn and create it.”
“Are you quite serious?” Thea exchanged a brief surprised glance with Maggie who lifted her eyebrows and stepped back toward her chair. “How in the world were you able to make it so quickly?”
“I … I like to … experiment with things.” Lord Clayton trailed off before scrubbing a hand across his forehead. “I do hope you don’t find it too forward of me.”
Thea smiled at him and shook her head. “No more forward than me breaking my leg in your stables, my lord.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Thank you. I am delighted to have this chair. It’s perfect.”
Their gazes met again, and Thea was mesmerized by the look in his blue eyes. It was beyond generous of him to not only procure the chair for her, but to go to the trouble of making a special split for her leg.
Not to mention the fact that he could have just sent the chair up with the footmen and asked them to help her into to, but he’d delivered it and helped her himself. Lord Clayton’s gaze rested on her hand, which was still touching him. She quickly snatched it away as if it had been burnt and cleared her throat. “I greatly appreciate it, my lord. I’m certain my father will reimburse you—”
“Rubbish,” Lord Clayton replied, waving away her words. “This is a gift. An unusual one, granted, but a gift, nevertheless. Now, shall I help you learn to use it in the corridor?”
Thea spent the better part of the next hour out in the corridor learning how to use the handles on the sides of the square box to propel herself in the wheelchair. It was exhausting and she wasn’t entirely certain she was doing it correctly, but she made enough progress to be able to go short di
stances by herself. She would have to rely on the footmen and Maggie to go longer distances in the chair, but at least Thea learned how to move around a bit.
Lord Clayton took his leave about halfway through her lesson when Mr. Humbolt arrived and informed him that his solicitor was waiting in the study to go over the books with him. Thea had felt a brief pang of disappointment when Lord Clayton had been forced to leave, but she quickly continued her lesson with Maggie and Rosalie’s help and soon the three young ladies were in hysterics over Thea’s penchant for rolling herself into corners and getting stuck.
When they returned to the bedchamber, Thea found herself happy but thoroughly drained. “I think I need a nap,” she informed Maggie the moment the bedchamber door closed.
“Would you like me to summon Lord Clayton to help you back into bed?” Maggie asked, her eyebrows waggling.
Thea slapped at her friend. “Absolutely not. I’m certain the three of us can manage if we just put our minds to it.” She gestured to Maggie and Rosalie.
With the maids’ help, Thea stood from the chair and hopped back toward the bed. It was slow, uncomfortable, and somewhat painful. The entire process was much more difficult than when Lord Clayton had deftly scooped her up and sat her in the wheelchair. But she couldn’t very well rely on him to move her back and forth. Not only would that be an unreasonable request, it would be beyond embarrassing. Especially given what had happened when he’d moved her earlier. The last thing she needed was to have another moment of feeling his muscles and thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. Besides, Anthony would be coming for her soon and she would be whisked back to Blackstone Hall, she had to learn how to manage a broken leg without Lord Clayton.
Wincing, Thea pulled herself atop the mattress. Maggie had already pushed back the covers, while Rosalie helped her to scooch against the pillows before she pulled the covers over Thea’s legs.
“Thank you, Rosalie,” Thea said, settling back against the pillows and expelling her breath. In addition to some rest, she needed a bit of laudanum. Her leg was throbbing again. “I appreciate your help. And your discretion.” It couldn’t hurt to remind the maid that her presence here was still a secret.
Save a Horse, Ride a Viscount Page 9