He hugged her to him and she let out a gasp of pain. He quickly laid her back down. “I’m sorry, love. Are you all right?”
“I … think so.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” a voice said from the doorway.
Geoffrey turned to find Dr. Morgan standing there. He was an older man, with white hair and merry blue eyes, and Geoffrey had never been so glad to see a person in his life.
“Kane,” the doctor said, taking charge. “Give your wife some air, for heaven’s sake.”
Geoffrey stepped back and allowed him to examine her.
Dr. Morgan smiled down at Becca. “Had yourself a bit of excitement today, Lady Kanewood?”
She nodded. The doctor examined her face, noting the scratches on her cheeks and forehead.
“I’ll get some warm water and cloths to clean those scratches,” announced Lady Margaret as she left the room.
The doctor nodded approvingly. He felt her head and located a sizeable lump on the right side. He probed it gently with his fingers and Becca winced in response.
“Does that hurt?” the doctor asked.
“Just a bit,” she answered.
He looked into her eyes then and after carefully examining them, smiled. “Your eyes are clear.” He turned to Geoffrey, “I want her to have complete rest, Kane. If her head pains her, use a compress. Or try some brandy. I’ll stop by to check on her in the morning.”
Geoffrey nodded at the instructions. “Thank you.”
“Dr. Morgan, would you care to stay for some tea?” Lady Margaret asked as she walked back into the room with water and cloths.
“Yes, thank you.” He smiled. “I’d enjoy a visit.”
Geoffrey took the tray from his mother, “I can do that, Mother—you see to Dr. Morgan’s tea.” She gave her son a reassuring smile that all would be well and squeezed Becca’s hand, then turned and escorted Dr. Morgan down the hall to the library.
Geoffrey carefully cleaned Becca’s cuts and abrasions, a worried frown on his face.
“I’m not going to break, Geoffrey,” Becca said gently. “I’m going to be all right. You heard Dr. Morgan.”
“I could have lost you,” he said in a shaky voice. He briefly carressed her face, then gingerly lifted her into his arms to carry her upstairs. He dropped kisses on her hair, and her face, as he carefully laid her on the bed. Mary stood close by, anxiously waiting to see to her mistress’s comfort.
Geoffrey permitted Mary to fuss over Becca, taking the time to splash some water on his face and try to collect himself. He’d never been so frightened in his entire life. When he recalled that moment out on the sidewalk, an indescribable pain settled in the pit of his stomach. She’d been so still. He savagely pushed the thought away.
With Becca changed into her nightgown and wrapper, Mary left them. Geoffrey walked over to the bed. She lay propped up by a half-a-dozen pillows, her hair fanned out around her. Her face was pale, red scratches standing out on her forehead and right cheek. She looked vulnerable but so beautiful to him.
He sat next to her. “How are you feeling, love?”
“I’m tired, Geoffrey.”
He kissed her and pulled back to stare into her eyes. “I love you, Becca.”
Her brow creased. “Do you mean it?” she asked, using the words he had when she’d first made her declaration to him.
He hugged her gently. “Yes,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I only realized it—”
“Today?” she finished for him.
He shook his head. “No. Last night.”
She nodded and her eyes drifted closed. The sweetest smile curved her lips as she drifted off to sleep. How could he not have known that he’d loved her all this time? She was everything to him.
He settled himself in a chair and watched her sleep. Thank you, God.
Becca slept for nearly two hours. When she stirred and whispered her husband’s name, he came to stand by the bed. “What is it, love?”
She stared up at him, a small smile on her face. “What time is it?”
“Nearly the dinner hour. Are you hungry?”
“I suppose I could eat a bit of something.”
“Why don’t I have the cook make some soup for you? And maybe some biscuits?”
She nodded.
Geoffrey brought up the supper tray himself. They shared their meal, though Geoffrey had roast beef along with his soup.
By the time Becca’s bowl was empty, her eyelids looked heavy. Geoffrey removed the tray and helped her off with her robe. He bent his head to kiss her, brushing her lips very lightly.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m not made of glass.”
He straightened and looked down at her. She did look fragile to him then, and that horrible pain in his stomach returned. He sat next to her and hugged her tightly. “I love you.”
She glowed, obviously pleased to hear those words again, then turned on her left side to snuggle into her pillow. “You love me,” he heard her whisper.
He brushed her hair from her face and kissed her temple, ever-mindful of that angry-looking lump. “Always,” he whispered back.
She sighed and drifted off to sleep.
He quietly closed the door and went downstairs to his study. There he poured himself a brandy and took a big swallow of it. He buried his face in his hands and reviewed the horrific events of the afternoon. Something about the runaway carriage nagged at the back of his mind, but when he tried to ponder it further, it danced away from him. Perhaps in the morning, when he was over the shock of nearly losing Becca, he’d be able to figure it out. He finished his drink and climbed the stairs to their chamber.
Somewhere around midnight, Becca sat bolt upright, a soft cry escaping her. Geoffrey came awake immediately and saw her eyes were wide, fear swirling in their depths.
“Becca?” he whispered.
She stared right through him.
He grasped her shoulders. “Becca, love, wake up!”
She blinked then, finally seeing him. “Geoffrey!” She sobbed and clutched at him. “The carriage was … was ….”
“Shh, love.” He rubbed her back. “It was just a bad dream. You’re all right now.”
She gave a small nod and sagged against him. Murmuring soft endearments in her ear, he laid back down. She took a long time to fall asleep, hiccuping now and then as her sobs quieted. He stroked her back, puzzling anew over the runaway carriage.
The next morning, he was awakened in the most pleasing fashion. Becca was sprawled on top of him, placing little kisses on his throat, his chest. He stretched and wrapped his arms around her.
She came up to kiss his mouth. “Good morning, husband.”
“Mmm,” he answered. “Good morning, love.”
She shifted to lay against his side, trailing her fingers lightly over his chest. He closed his eyes again, still not fully awake. That changed quickly when he felt her hand grasp him.
“What are you about?”
She ran her lips over his neck, nibbling on his ear. “I want my husband to make love to me.”
With a groan, he stilled her hand. “Love, the doctor said that you need rest.”
She folded her hands on his chest and placed her chin on them. “But I’ve rested enough, Geoffrey.”
He smiled, wanting her as much as she wanted him. “I’d like nothing more than to spend the morning making love to my beautiful wife.” He kissed her lightly. “But until the doctor tells me everything is all right, I won’t do anything that might hurt you.”
She nodded. “Will you speak to Dr. Morgan today?”
“Yes. But I daresay it won’t be an easy thing for me to ask.”
She wore a look of worry. “Geoffrey, would you ever tell anyone what we … that is, how we make love?”
He was shocked by her question and shook his head firmly. “What we do in the privacy of our bedroom ….” He grinned wickedly and added, “or in the carriage, or out riding, or ….”
She swatted his shoulder. “Geoffrey!”
He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “No, love,” he finished. “I’d never speak of such matters with anyone.”
She smiled then, obviously relieved.
“Becca, why would you think that I—”
A knock at the door interrupted him. It was one of the servants, announcing that Dr. Morgan was calling to check on Lady Kanewood. Becca donned her robe and pulled up the covers, waiting for the doctor’s entrance. Geoffrey sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Becca’s gasp of shock stilled him.
“Geoffrey, what happened to your back?”
He tried in vain to look over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“Your back.” She caressed him lightly. “It’s badly bruised.”
He nodded then. “It must have happened when I fell yesterday.”
She wrapped her arms around him and placed feather-light kisses on his tender flesh. He turned and hugged her to him, kissing her deeply. Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth from hers. With a sigh, he pulled away and stepped into his dressing room. He hastily dressed and went downstairs to fetch the doctor.
Dr. Morgan felt the bump on Becca’s head, pleased to announce that it had shrunken quite a bit.
“Did you sleep well, Lady Kanewood?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I did awaken once during the night. I had a bad dream about the accident.”
“Such things are to be expected. All looks very well. Please call for me if you have any discomfort.”
“Thank you, doctor,” she said.
Geoffrey accompanied him to the door and held him back for a moment. He looked at Becca and turned back to the doctor. “May we resume our, um, marital relations?” he asked softly.
“Of course. Just take care.”
“Always.”
After the doctor left, Geoffrey couldn’t help flashing her a huge grin. The answering blush on her cheeks was all the proof he needed that the love of his life was also his perfect match.
Chapter 17
When Geoffrey arrived belowstairs, Miles announced that Lord Chester awaited him in his study. He entered the study to find Chester looking out the window.
“Chester, what brings you out so early in the day?”
“Good morning, Kane.” Chester faced him. “I’ve been known to rise a bit before tea time every once in a while.”
“Yes, once in a great while.”
Chester’s usually jovial expression turned serious. “I heard about the accident. How is Rebecca?”
“She’s going to be fine, thank God.” He sat behind his desk. “I don’t mind telling you I nearly died when I thought I’d lost her.”
“Did you get a good look at the carriage, Kane?”
“No. It all happened so fast. It was as if it came out of nowhere.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“What you thought? What are you getting at, Chester?”
Chester frowned as he collected his thoughts, causing a spark of alarm to strike Geoffrey.
“Speak your mind, man.”
“When I heard of yesterday’s accident, my curiosity was piqued. I took the liberty of looking into it further.”
“And what did you find?”
“Not much, I fear. Just up the street no one reported anything out of the ordinary. And if the carriage was as out of control as you say—”
“It was.”
Chester held his hand up to still him. “If the carriage was indeed out of control, how was it able to turn the corner so smoothly as it reached the end of the street?”
Geoffrey felt a chill go through him. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t think yesterday’s accident was precisely an accident.”
Geoffrey jumped to his feet. “Rebecca could have been killed!”
“Or you.”
Geoffrey blinked at his friend’s statement. He slumped back into his chair. “But who would want me dead?”
“I think this is somehow connected to the missing funds.”
“Not possible.”
“Do think for a moment. Is Rebecca usually with you during the day?”
“No, she’s usually here at the house. Why?”
“That would confirm my suspicions that you were the target.”
Geoffrey raked his fingers through his hair. “But I still don’t understand why.”
“Kane, I found out yesterday that someone has indeed been passing notes in your name.”
“My solicitors had told me that several notes had reached them over the past few weeks,” Geoffrey said. “They were written for small amounts but were numerous. The firm presumed they were from me, unusual though they were. Do we know yet who has been passing them?”
“No.”
Geoffrey rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “I think we should bring Roberts in on this.”
“I agree. Roberts travels in some pretty unsavory circles when he wishes to.”
“He’s also lesser known than you or me.”
Chester nodded. “Roberts and I will return this afternoon.”
Geoffrey shook his hand in thanks and let him show himself out. He settled behind his desk and mulled over all that Chester had suggested. To think that someone had deliberately tried to run him down.
He could have lost Becca forever. He needed to see her right away, to know that she was truly all right. He left the study, bound for their chamber.
He quietly opened the door to the chamber, thinking Becca might be sleeping. He froze at the sight before him. Becca was turned slightly away from him in the bath, her hands in her hair. Geoffrey watched as she worked her fingers through the long strands, her eyes closed. She wore a look of rapture on her face. He felt his pulse quicken. He stepped toward the tub, drinking in the sensuous picture she made. The water lapped around her, barely covering her pink-tipped breasts. He took off his coat and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Becca ducked under the water once more. When she emerged, her hair streamed down her back. She grabbed it and brought it over her shoulder, twisting the mass into a thick rope as she wrung it dry.
She opened her eyes then, surprise in them as she spotted Geoffrey. “Geoffrey!” She gasped. “How long have you been standing there?”
He smiled crookedly at her as he removed his shirt and unbuttoned his breeches. “Long enough.”
She arched a brow at him. “What are you about, husband?”
“I thought I’d join my wife in the bath.”
The answering heat in her lovely green eyes was all the agreement he needed.
After they’d bathed each other and loved each other in the big bed, she stared up at him. “Tell me, Geoffrey.”
He knew what she needed to hear. “I love you, Becca.”
“And I love you,” she answered.
He rolled onto his back and she snuggled against him.
“You make me quiver.”
He smiled down at her. “And you make me lose control.”
She turned to look at him. “And is that a good thing?”
“Yes indeed,” he said, kissing her lightly. “That’s a very good thing.”
They roused themselves after a while and readied for lunch. When Geoffrey had dressed, he found Becca sitting at the vanity. She turned to face him, a frown on her face.
“Is something wrong, love?”
“Look at me. My face is hideous.”
He laughed softly. “It would take more than a few scratches to make you hideous.”
“You see through the eyes of love, I daresay.”
“Indeed.” He kissed her cheek. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that my vision is clouded.”
She caught his smile. “Never mind that. I’ll see you downstairs?”
“Certainly. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
When she joined him, John was there, as well. Both gentleman stood when she entered.
“How are you, Becca?” John asked.
Geoffrey l
ooked at his brother sharply. Becca, is it?
Geoffrey took Becca’s hand in his. “My wife is going to be fine, John.”
“Yes, John. How can I not be?” she said smiling at Geoffrey. “My husband loves me.”
Geoffrey smiled and placed a kiss on her temple. John cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his meal.
When they were finished, Becca and Geoffrey went into the parlor. Geoffrey saw her settled on the settee, getting her assurance that she’d sit still and not tax herself.
She quirked a smile at him. “And what would be more taxing than what transpired upstairs, Geoffrey?”
He growled at her. “Hush, darling. Lest I take you back upstairs and leave our callers disappointed.”
As the afternoon wore on, and the salver grew full, he noted that Becca seemed nearly herself. Just before five o’clock, Chester and Roberts arrived. Lady Margaret escorted the other callers to the front door and Geoffrey told the butler that they wouldn’t be receiving anyone else that afternoon. He closed the doors and turned to find his friends standing over his wife.
“How are you, Lady Kanewood?” Chester asked.
“I feel much better. Thank you, Lord Chester.”
Lord Roberts took Becca’s hand in his. “We were very worried about you, Rebecca.”
Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed at Roberts’s use of her first name. He hadn’t forgotten their exchange on the balcony the night of the Winslow ball, and didn’t much like the charming viscount’s fawning over her now.
“That’s very nice of you to say, Lord Roberts,” she answered, smiling.
Roberts’s eyes glittered and Chester cleared his throat.
“Lady Kanewood,” Chester began. “We were wondering if you could tell us anything about yesterday’s incident.”
She turned to him, puzzlement on her face. Geoffrey shook his head at his friend, silently warning him not to tell her of their suspicions.
Chester gave an almost imperceptible nod and re-worded his question. “Did you notice anything unusual about the carriage?”
Roberts gave a short laugh. “He means besides the fact that it was out of control.”
Becca laughed at that. All three men smiled in response.
“Well,” she began. “The carriage was dark. Black, or dark blue, perhaps.”
More than Passion Page 13