To Marry a Marquis

by Melinda Hammond

  The cleanliness and order gave Rosamund some confidence, and although she found herself growing cold when Doctor Sireuil opened a large leather case and began to take out a selection of lethal looking instruments, she was impatient for him to begin removing the tiny pieces of shot. She looked down to find the marquis had opened his eyes and was watching her. He put up his good hand and she caught it, holding his fingers against her breast.

  'Where am I?'

  'The good doctor has brought you to his house, my lord.'

  'Ah, milor' is awake,' said the doctor, rolling up his sleeves. 'I suggest, milady, that you give him more brandy, as much as he will take. He will then feel less pain.'

  'The devil I will!' muttered Lord Ullenwood.

  Rosamund picked up the cup.

  'Come, sir, it will make you more comfortable.'

  She helped the marquis to drink. Then she refilled the cup.

  'Madam, I will not be responsible for my language if you force me to drink all that.'

  She allowed herself a small smile.

  'I will gladly suffer a few oaths if it saves you some pain, sir.'

  While Davis held Lord Ullenwood steady, the doctor cleaned his arm and began the tortuously slow process of removing the shot. Rosamund remained beside the marquis, holding his hand and occasionally wiping his face with a damp cloth. Each time the doctor prodded and probed, the marquis gripped at her fingers, muttering an apology, but as the brandy infected his brain his civil remarks were replaced by invective and a string of oaths that made the doctor chuckle.

  'Bravo, m'sieur. You swear as mightily as a Frenchman!'

  Watching his ashen face, Rosamund realised that the marquis had gone beyond reason now, and he began to thrash around, trying to get up. She and Davis struggled to restrain him, and she was about to suggest they call for more help when he suddenly stopped moving.

  'Do not look so alarmed, milady, he has merely fainted,' murmured the doctor. 'It is best. Vite, let us get on while he feels no pain.'

  Rosamund risked a brief glance at the wounded arm. Where the flesh was not lacerated and bloody it was already showing dark bruising. She quickly looked away, repressing a shudder. While Elliot was unconscious Rosamund moved away and made herself as useful as she could, replacing guttering candles, keeping the fire blazing and searching out the bandages that the doctor told her he would need soon to bind up the wounds. When she could do no more, she dropped into a chair to watch the doctor continue his painstaking work. The blinds had been drawn against the icy night and a kettle suspended at the edge of a blazing fire sang quietly. Rosamund dozed.

  'Voilá. C'est finis.' Doctor Sireuil stood back. 'I have spread balsam on the wounds. Now we will bind him up and move him to a bed, where he may rest. Then he is in the hands of the Lord.'

  Rosamund jumped up and brought over the bandages. She admired the efficient way the doctor wrapped the bandages tightly around the arm and shoulder. She wondered what the old man would say if she confessed that this was the first time she had seen her husband's torso. Indeed, she have never been this close to naked male flesh before and she had to force herself not to blush and tremble as they stripped the marquis and put him into a clean nightgown before calling for the servant to help carry him to the bed.

  The bedchamber prepared for them was large and welcoming. Candles glowed in their wall sockets and a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth. Meggie had turned down the covers and now she helped Davis and the servants to lay their burden gently between the sheets. Rosamund merely looked on, like one in a dream while Doctor Sireuil arranged his patient comfortably on the bed. At length he touched her arm.

  'You are tired, madame. Your maid is waiting for you in the next room. I will sit with milor' while you sleep.'

  'No, I would like to stay here, at least for a while. You too must be tired, sir: you have not rested since we arrived.'

  'Very well, if you are sure. I shall sleep, but I will be with you in an instant if you need me. You need only send a servant.'

  'You are very good.'

  The doctor left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Rosamund sat down on a chair by the bed. She watched the valet straightening the covers.

  'He drank a lot of brandy,' she said, 'I fear he will have a fearsome headache when he wakes.'

  'Not he, my lady. The master has a strong head, and a strong heart, too. He will come through this, never fear.'

  'I pray you are right. You were very calm when you were helping the doctor. You have dealt with such wounds before?'

  The valet allowed himself the ghost of a smile.

  'I have been with my lord since he was a boy, ma'am. More than twenty years. Not all of them as peaceful as these last few years in England.'

  She sighed.

  'I have known Lord Ullenwood such a short time. There is so much to learn.'

  'But well worth the trouble, ma'am, if I may say so.' Davis hesitated. 'The master is a proud man, my lady,' he said, choosing his words with care. 'He was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, as the saying goes. And some say he is too inclined to keep his own counsel. But he can be kind, ma'am. He has never yet betrayed my trust, and we've been through a few scrapes together, believe me.'

  'You are very fond of your master, I think.'

  'Why yes, ma'am. A man couldn't ask for a better master. I wouldn't give him up lightly.' Rosamund felt the tears prickling behind her eyes and was obliged to blink rapidly. After a moment Davis continued: 'The master should sleep for a few hours yet, ma'am, and if you are wishful to stay with him, then, with your permission, I will retire to my bed and relieve you in the morning.'

  'Yes, thank you, Davis.'

  'Goodnight, my lady.'

  The valet withdrew, and Rosamund was alone with Lord Ullenwood. She pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. The house grew quiet and there was not even the ticking of a clock in the room to break the silence. With nothing to do, the hours dragged by. Rosamund paced around the bed, touching the unfamiliar furniture, peering at the dark paintings on the wall before going back to the bed. Elliot had not stirred, and she reached out a trembling hand to lay it on his neck, feeling for a pulse. Reassured, she watched him sleeping for a few moments, then went across to build up the fire.

  As the hour advanced she grew sleepy. The only chair in the room was wooden and spindle-backed, she could not rest there. She looked at her husband, sleeping peacefully in the big bed. With a little shrug she turned down the lamp and climbed up beside him and pulled the coverlet over her. Now, lying beside the marquis, she was aware of his regular breathing. She moved a little closer. She was still fully clothed, and there were several layers of blankets between them, but she measured her length against her husband and inched closer until her head was touching his good shoulder. Within seconds she was asleep.

  Rosamund awoke instantly when Lord Ullenwood stirred. She raised herself on one elbow.

  ''My lord? Are you in pain?'

  'Thirsty.'

  It was only a whisper, but Rosamund slipped from the bed and hurried around to the table, where she picked up the cup and held it to his lips, her other hand gently supporting his head. He sank back again, his breath hissing through clenched teeth.

  'Shall I call Doctor Sireuil?'

  'No, it was the movement. I shall be well if I lie still. Come back to bed.'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  He looked at her, a hint of a gleam in his eyes.

  'You were sleeping beside me.'

  'I-'

  'Come back. Please.'

  Awkwardly she climbed upon the bed again and lay down.

  'You were much closer.'

  'I fear I will disturb you, my lord.'

  He reached out his good hand and found hers, lacing his fingers through her own.

  'I want to know you are near me.' He muttered sleepily.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  When Rosamund woke again the sun was shining, filtering around the edge of the thic
k curtains. It was very quiet and she lay still, wondering what had woken her. She heard a soft click and glanced towards the closed door. Her face flamed. She was still lying under the coverlet with her fingers entwined with those of her husband. Had Davis come in and retired again quickly? She laughed silently at her naivety. She was confident the valet was privy to most of his master's secrets and as much to be trusted as her own dear Meggie.

  She slipped from the bed, shook out her skirts and went to the door. Davis was coming up the stairs with a jug of hot water.

  'Good morning, my lady. I have taken the liberty of ordering hot water to be taken to your room. You may leave the master to my care now, if you please.'

  His tone and countenance were as impassive as ever, but she was convinced he had entered the bedchamber and seen her sleeping with the marquis.

  With a muttered "thank you", she fled to her own bedchamber.

  Rosamund returned to Lord Ullenwood's room as soon as she had changed her crumpled gown and taken breakfast. She found the doctor had already made his examination and declared himself satisfied that his patient's wounds were healing well. Rosamund looked doubtfully at the pale, still form in the bed.

  'I have given him another sleeping draught,' Doctor Sireuil explained, observing her frown. 'He needs to rest as much as he can.'

  'What can I do?' she asked him.

  The old man shook his head.

  'Watch and pray, madam. Watch and pray.'

  The days settled into a familiar pattern. The little party took turns to keep watch at Lord Ullenwood's bedside, even John begged to be allowed to join in, rather than kicking his heels all day in the doctor's kitchen. It was agreed that John and Meggie would share the night watch, with Davis in attendance upon his master for most of the day. Rosamund sat with her husband as often as she could, but Davis would politely drive her away whenever the doctor came in to examine the marquis and he would not allow her to help change the dressings or perform any little service.

  'You must save your strength ma'am,' he told her, ushering her out of the room. 'My lord knows not who is by him at present: when he comes to his senses, then he will want you with him and you must be ready.'

  So Rosamund went away and filled her spare hours helping where she could around the house. She was soon on excellent terms with the doctor and laughed at him when he exclaimed that milady should not be mending sheets.

  'Why not?' she countered, re-threading her needle. 'It will be one less task for your sister when she returns. Have you heard from her?'

  'Yes, she tells me her daughter is very weak following the birth and she will be needed there for some time yet.

  'Then I am happy to be able to help you here, and besides I must do something to earn my keep. We are a great imposition upon you, monsieur.'

  'No, no, it is a pleasure, madame. Your servants do so much we scarcely notice you.'

  'Your cook must notice the extra mouths to feed,' she said drily.

  The doctor spread his hands.

  'You pay for your food, your maid helps with the preparation and your coachman, Wilson, he chops the logs. My cook is très heureuse. She remembers the old days when my wife was alive. We had a much larger household then, with many servants. She enjoys cooking for you all.'

  'You are all most kind to us monsieur. Especially when it could be dangerous for you.'

  'Do not distress yourself madam, you have explained your dilemma and I am promised to help you. I have let it be known that your husband is a colleague of mine from England. That is why we have hidden the coach.' His eyes twinkled. 'I have put it about that he is a gentleman. No one would believe a humble country doctor would be acquainted with a marquis, eh?'

  'Then it is only fitting that I should help with the household sewing,' she retorted, picking up another sheet.

  It was another three days before there was any change in their situation. Rosamund was taking breakfast with Dr Sireuil when Davis came in to tell her that the marquis was awake and asking for her.

  'Pray finish your coffee, madam,' murmured Dr Sireuil. 'He will not run away.'

  Five minutes later she entered the bedchamber to find Lord Ullenwood propped up on a bank of pillows.

  'Good morning, my lord,' she came forward, unable to conceal her pleasure at seeing him awake. 'Davis is to be congratulated. You are washed, brushed and shaved to perfection.'

  'Baggage,' he said softly.

  She sat down on the chair beside the bed.

  'Are you in much pain, sir?'

  'Only if I move my arm or shoulder.'

  'I am very thankful that we met Dr Sireuil upon the road.'

  'Yes, he has patched me up nicely. How long have we been here?'

  'Almost a se'ennight, my lord.'

  'And have you slept well, madam, has your conscience been easy, leaving me to the mercies of my servants each night? Perhaps you were giving me my own again for not visiting you when you had that trifling chill.'

  'No sir. You were not lucid, and so full of laudanum we decided –'

  'We decided?' He scowled at her. 'You are picking up revolutionary ideas, madam. The sooner I get you back to England the better!'

  'Well, yes, so I think,' she replied cheerfully. 'Doctor Sireuil has a friend near St Brieuc whom, he says, has, er, dubious sea-going contacts. It is a little further than St Malo, but I think we would be advised to accept the doctor's help. Also, he has suggested that we should leave our carriage here and he will arrange another, less conspicuous vehicle for us.'

  'By God, madam, you have been very busy while I have been asleep!'

  'Making plans, my lord, yes, but we will do nothing without your approval.'

  'I am very glad to hear it,' he growled. 'Is there nothing for me to do?'

  'Yes, my lord: you must get well.' She rose. 'Now, here is Davis with your breakfast. With your permission, sir, I will go away.'

  'And if I command you to stay?' His eyes challenged her. Rosamund found herself enjoying this new game.

  'Then of course I would do so, my lord, although I fear we would incur your valet's displeasure, and I know he could make you most uncomfortable. Is that not right, Davis?'

  'My lord knows I exist only to do his bidding,' replied the valet smoothly.

  The marquis gave a bark of laughter, cut short as the movement tore at his shoulder

  'The devil you do! Very well, madam, go away, but I want to you come and sit with me later, if only to stop you hatching any more plans with my servants!'

  Rosamund went to her room, humming, and found Meggie putting away her gowns.

  'So the master is awake, ma'am. How is he?'

  'Much better,' replied Rosamund, smiling at the memory of their verbal exchange. 'He is very well indeed.'

  Rosamund soon discovered that Davis's prophecy was correct: the marquis was impatient to be up and about and it took the combined efforts of his doctor, his wife and his valet to keep him in his bed for even a few more days. Rosamund now had little time for household chores: she spent her days with the marquis, reading to him in French from the doctor's large supply of books, playing cards or, in the evenings, talking until the candles were guttering in their sockets.

  As soon as Lord Ullenwood was well enough to leave his bed he began to talk of continuing their journey, but Rosamund would have none of it. Doctor Sireuil said it was too soon, the wounds were not healed enough to withstand the jolting of a coach over miles of uneven roads. Rosamund refused to leave. She watched the marquis pace up and down in his chamber, his injured arm resting in a sling.

  'We should be moving. Every day we stay here the situation becomes more dangerous. And I have … messages to relay in England.'

  'Since you will tell no one just what these messages are, it is important that we get you home alive,' she responded, very reasonably.

  'Damnation, woman!' He strode up to her, towering over her.

  Rosamund gazed up at him.

  'So you will not obey me, madam, and make pr
eparations to leave.'

  'No, my lord, I will not. Now, please return to your bed. The doctor will be here any moment.'

  'I am damned if I will!'

  'Then sit down, sir. You will do yourself no good to be moving so much.'

  With a growl he lowered himself into the chair, wincing a little.

  'Where is John?'

  'Chopping wood.' She walked across the room to fetch a blanket. 'And pray do not think you will bully him into doing your bidding: I have given instructions that we are staying here until Doctor Sireuil agrees that you are well enough to travel.'

  'By God, then I shall turn them all off.' He threw at her. 'And you as well!'

  'We are already agreed on that, my lord,' she said, tucking the blanket around his legs. 'I shall find them employment with me.'

  He put out his good hand, taking her chin in his fingers and forcing her to look at him.

  'I thought so,' he growled. 'You are laughing at me.'

  She smiled, her hand coming up to cover his.

  'No, sir, laughing with you. You cannot bamboozle me with your harsh words.'

  His scowl fled. 'Am I so easy to understand, then?'

  'Yes, now I have come to know you.'

  His hand moved to her cheek, cradling it for a moment, but he withdrew it as the door opened.

  Rosamund straightened, she said, 'Dr Sireuil. Your patient is ready for you, you see.'

  She went to the door. Lord Ullenwood's voice followed her.

  'You will return?'

  'Later, my lord, when you have rested.'

  The marquis swore softly as she left the room and before she closed the door she heard the doctor laugh.

  'The ladies, they are tyrants are the not, monsieur le marquis? Now, milor', let me look at your arm…'

  Lord Ullenwood continued to recover quickly and a few days later Doctor Sireuil agreed that he was fit enough to travel. Rosamund immediately gave instructions for the servants to begin packing up. Meggie sighed as she surveyed the open trunks.