“One th-thing you can h-h-help me with is th-the toilet.” She blushed furiously, even though it was a woman to woman request. Mrs. Fletcher was still a stranger.
“Oh, my dear. Of course. Can you stand? I’m not sure what your injuries are.”
“It s-s-seems my wrist was sp-sprained and I have a l-l-ot of bumps and b-b-bruises. But I b-b-believe I c-can stand.”
“Good, we have a toilet room right next to the bathing room at the end of the hallway. If you will allow me to assist you, I can get you up and help you walk there.”
Pamela groaned as she sat up with Mrs. Fletcher’s help. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stopped to catch her breath.
“I can fetch a chamber pot if it’s too difficult for you to walk,” Mrs. Fletcher said.
As much as Pamela preferred the privacy and lack of embarrassment in using the toilet, the nausea returned with her movement and perhaps a chamber pot was best. “Y-yes, I th-think a chamber p-p-pot is better.”
“Not to worry, my dear. In all my years I’ve handled hundreds of chamber pots. Just give me a minute.” She helped Pamela sit up against the bed headboard and left the room.
Pamela closed her eyes and the vision of the carriage coming at her immediately appeared. It was highly unlikely it had been an accident. And from the way Nick had behaved he didn’t think so either.
She shivered realizing that someone wanted to kill her. Or at least seriously hurt her. No. She leaned more toward murder. As much as she hated to think so, Mrs. O’Leary had to be part of what had happened to Lizbeth and the other girls that had disappeared.
Nick said he’d gained some information, but with moving her from the hospital and then his quick escape it might be some time before she found out what he knew.
The door opened and Mrs. Fletcher returned with the chamber pot. “Here you go, dear. I’ll just slip this under you and be back in a bit to collect it.”
Pamela bit down hard on her lip when she shifted to sit on the chamber pot, the aches and pains in her body seeming to grow worse. “Th-thank you.”
Once she was finished, and feeling a lot better, she used the little bell to summon Mrs. Fletcher even though she felt uncomfortable using it.
“All right, dear, now can I get you some tea? Or perhaps a bit to eat?” Mrs. Fletcher was a very cheerful woman who made Pamela smile in spite of her pain and worry.
“A c-cup of t-t-tea would be wonderful. I’m afraid m-my st-st-stomach would not h-hold any food right n-now.”
“I understand. Then tea it is. Also, the doctor left some laudanum for you to take, but Mr. Smith told me not to give it to you until he returned.”
“Do y-y-you know wh-where he went?”
Mrs. Fletcher crossed her arms at her waist and shook her head. “All he told me was to expect two men to arrive who will be staying here for a while. Protection, he said.”
Protection. She closed her eyes and sighed. That word sounded wonderful.
“Protection.”
Nick sat behind his desk at the club and tapped the desktop with a pencil and studied the two men sitting in the chairs in front of him. “I want twenty-four-hour protection for my house.” Jax and Monkey had been friends with Nick since they mud-larked together. Nick hired them on a regular basis to keep him attached to his roots and for occasions like this when he needed something done that could use their special skills and lack of concern about rules.
“A very special lady is staying at my house whose life I believe is in danger. She’s already been injured once, and I have no intention of letting it happen again. You are to keep her in your sights at all times. I have absolute faith in my servants, but I still want her food checked before it goes into her mouth. Any letters or packages directed to her will come to me first.”
“Hey guvnor, if this lady is like most, she ain’t gonna like having her mail and stuff going to you first.”
Nick waved his hand. “First of all, no one knows where she is, so anything that comes to her would be suspicious. Second, even if she objects, I override her.”
The two men shared an amused glance. Nick didn’t care. Let them think he was besotted with Pamela. He most likely was, anyway.
It felt good telling the doctor and nurse he was her fiancé. It seemed right, like it fit. Most likely once Pamela recovers, she’d throw something very large and very heavy at his head for being so presumptuous, but with her under his roof, he hoped to make that false statement a true one before she left.
“When do you want us to start?”
“A half hour ago.”
Both men stood and with a quick salute left the room. Now that Pamela was settled and he had protection on the way to his house, he allowed himself to consider what happened to her.
He played with the pencil in his hand as his thoughts consumed him. While they were preparing Pamela in hospital to be moved, he’d consulted with the doctor on her injuries. His gut twisted when the doctor said she could very easily have been killed by the carriage that struck her.
Although the doctor would not say, Nick got the impression that he believed it was no accident. From the few witnesses who stayed with Pamela until help could arrive the doctor had learned that the carriage had purposely jumped the pavement, heading directly at her. Were it not for one of the witnesses pushing Pamela away, it would have hit her head-on.
Nick rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Pamela had gotten herself into a mess and he would call in all his debts and contacts to take care of her.
He rose and pulled his jacket back on and blew out the lamps. The club was still going strong, but he had no interest in how much money he was pulling in. All his thoughts, worries and concerns were focused on one woman.
The woman he planned to make his.
The house was well lit when he arrived by carriage to his front door. Jax nodded to Nick from his place in the entrance hall when Nick opened the door. He removed his hat, scarf and coat and handed them to the butler. He pulled his gloves off and handed them off as well as Mrs. Fletcher came bustling down the corridor from the kitchen area.
“Dinner is ready, Mr. Smith. Shall I send a tray up to Lady Pamela?”
“No. I will take a tray up to her. Fix it and I’ll be in to fetch it in a minute.” He strode to the drawing room and poured himself a brandy. He looked around the room as he sipped on the fine French liquor.
He’d never been prouder of what he’d done for himself than he was now with Pamela upstairs in his house, under his protection.
When he’d made enough money to open the club, he spent time and money for tutors to teach him what he needed to know to be a gentleman. Maybe never by birth, but he was determined to be one by the way he lived.
He’d hired people to teach him proper English and manners, select his wardrobe, then decorate his house, purchase paintings, furniture, draperies, and other things of value to make his home a haven from the world he’d been brought up in, and had been forced to endure for years.
He was only a few years away from his ultimate goal to sell the club and buy a fine hotel and restaurant, or maybe even delve into the stock market, or railroads. He would be a businessman of worth.
His wife would never want for anything and his children would know all the pleasures of childhood that had been denied him.
Anxious to see Pamela, he downed the drink and headed to the kitchen to pick up the tray.
He knocked gently on the door to the room she’d been given. What he wanted was her in his room, in his bed, but he would never shame her in that way. Once they were married, he would have her near him all the time. No separate bedrooms for them.
Even if that was the way gentlemen lived.
The door was opened by a maid named Dorothy who he’d seen many times, mostly cleaning. “Good evening, Mr. Smith.”
Giving her a quick nod in return, his attention was immediately taken with the woman lying in the bed across from him. Pamela appeared to be sleeping, but when
he moved closer, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.
He nearly dropped the tray.
Yes. He was besotted.
“How are you feeling?” He kept his voice low as he moved toward her.
She attempted to shift on the bed and groaned. “A b-b-bit sore, I am afr-r-raid.”
He quickly set the tray down on the table next to her. “No. Don’t move. I will help you.” He wrapped his hands around her slim waist and moved her up. She wore nothing except a thin nightgown. The warmth from her soft skin heated his hands to where he felt as though they would burst into flames.
Once she was settled, he took a deep breath. “I brought you some dinner. Do you feel up to eating?”
“Had y-y-you asked me a few hours ag-g-go I would have said no. My st-st-stomach was quite upset fr-from the r-ride, but now I find I am quite hungry.”
He shook out the napkin Mrs. Fletcher had placed on the tray and tucked it under her chin. She flushed a bright red and he almost laughed at her shyness. He placed the tray on her lap.
“Have y-y-you eaten?” Her eyes wandered over the tray of thick beef soup with vegetables, bread, butter and a small tart.
“No. I will eat later.” He pulled up a chair alongside the bed and sat back, leaning his foot on his bent knee, watching her.
She picked up the bread and looked at him. “I c-c-can’t eat if you are g-g-oing to st-st-stare at me.” She grinned and took a bite of bread to counter her statement.
“Very well. I am hungry myself.” He turned to the maid at the door. “Dorothy, please fetch a tray for me from Mrs. Fletcher in the kitchen.”
The girl bobbed. “Certainly, sir.”
He turned back to see Pamela running her tongue over her lips. His male parts immediately responded. He shifted in the chair. “We have quite a bit to talk about, but I think that can wait until after we have eaten.”
Pamela nodded and swallowed a bite and wiped her mouth. “I g-g-guess what I n-n-need to know is what do I d-d-do now? I have nowhere to l-live and I still haven’t t-t-told you what else happened to m-m-me today.”
“Do not concern yourself with where you will live. I want you to concentrate on getting better and as soon as you are able, we are going to London.”
8
“L-London?” Pamela’s spoon stopped midway from the bowl of the delicious soup to her mouth.
“Yes. But before I tell you about what I’ve learned today I want to know why you spent your day getting run over by a carriage.”
Pamela gasped. “You m-a-make it sound as though I planned m-m-my day around the accident. Although, it w-w-was not an accident.”
“I think we have established that.” Nick studied her. “Tell me how that came about.”
She took a deep breath and began her tale. “Early th-this afternoon I found the d-d-door to Lizbeth’s r-room open. Since n-no one was around, I went inside—”
Loud groan from Nick.
She frowned at him. “—Th-there was a paperboard b-b-box on the floor across the r-room in front of the window. I opened the b-box and found m-m-many of Lizbeth’s things in th-there.” She shifted a bit, almost spilling the soup. “There were th-things like her hairbrush, toothbrush, h-hairpins. Things that n-no woman would leave b-behind if she m-moved.”
She stopped to take a sip of tea. “Unfortunately, Mrs. O’Leary f-f-found me th-th-there.”
“Of course, she did.” Nick nodded at Dorothy as she placed a tray of food on the table next to the bed. “What did she say?”
“She was qu-quite angry and l-let me know I h-had no right to be in that r-room.”
“Which was correct. You had no right and, based on your suspicion about that room and its inhabitants, very foolish to even be there.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Go on.”
“Right after th-that I left to join Addie and Lottie for t-t-tea one last t-t-time at Addie’s b-bookstore since she has s-s-sold it and wanted to retrieve a few personal items from th-there.” She laid the spoon down alongside the now empty bowl and took another sip of tea.
“When I r-r-returned to my b-b-boarding house I had expected another lecture fr-from Mrs. O’Leary, but instead she was quite pl-pleasant and asked me to make a tr-trip to the gr-greengrocer to pick up things she n-n-needed for dinner.”
He frowned. “Does she usually do that?”
She shrugged. “Not many t-t-times, but I have done her a f-favor or two like that since I’ve lived th-there.”
“All right. What happened then?”
“As s-s-soon as I walked out of the house, I n-n-noticed a man I’d never seen before st-standing on the pavement a f-few houses down.”
Nick’s muscles tightened, and even though he already knew the outcome of her trip to the greengrocer it still had him ready to punch the wall. Another man to put on his list of people to pay for Pamela’s injuries.
“It w-was obvious fr-from the time I left the house th-that he was following me. I became very n-nervous.” She stopped and took a deep breath. Nick moved to sit on the edge of the bed and took her hand. “Go on.”
She glanced sideways at him, a flush rising to her face. “I d-d-decided th-then th-th-that I had t-to …”
“What?”
He blew out a deep breath. “Come to your cl-club. I knew if anyone c-could keep me s-safe it was y-you.” Her face turned a bright red at her confession.
His heart soared and despite the sad tale she was telling, and the agony he felt over her injuries, a sense of male satisfaction flowed through him. “I’m glad you knew the right thing to do—at least at that point.”
She glared at him and raised her sweet chin. “At th-that point I decided to go to m-my friend Lottie’s house which was cl-close by and tell her th-that I would be unable to see h-her or Addie for a while. I knew I h-had to leave the b-b-boarding house and possibly even B-bath, or else do s-something so I could n-not be found, and m-my friends would worry when I d-disappeared on them without a w-word.”
She took her last sip of tea and he removed the tray from her lap and brought it across the room to place it on the small desk next to the wardrobe. When he returned to her, he sat on the bed again and took her both of her ice-cold hands. “What happened next?”
“I left Lottie’s house and d-d-decided to look for a hack to t-t-take to your club. But b-before I could reach the rail st-station where I could f-find a hack I was hit by the ca-ca-carriage.”
Nick squeezed her hands so hard he was afraid he was inflicting further damage on her. The thought of what might have happened to her brought a combination of rage and heartbreak. Despite the short time he’d known Pamela his heart told him they were meant to be together.
“Do you remember anything after that?”
“J-just waking up in h-hospital. I tried to tell the n-nurse and d-d-doctor what happened, but I was v-v-very confused and as you know, m-my words d-don’t come out v-v-very clear when I’m anxious.” She grinned. “Like n-now.”
He reached out and tucked her loose curls behind her ear. “And then you sent for me.”
“Yes.” She ducked her head and he grinned.
“I’m glad you did.”
“Me, t-too.”
They smiled at each other just as Dorothy returned to the room to retrieve the trays of food. Right behind her was Mrs. Fletcher, glowering at him sitting on the bed. “Mr. Smith, I assume there are chairs in the room?”
He hopped up like a recalcitrant lad caught with one of his hands up a maid’s skirts. “Yes, ma’am.” He winked at Pamela. “We have more to discuss, but I think for now I need to give you some of the pain medication the doctor left and allow you to get some sleep.”
“Wh-what about L-london?”
“We will discuss that in the morning as well.” He pulled the small jar of laudanum and the spoon he’d stuck in his pocket before he came upstairs. “You won’t want to take this for too long, but it will help you sleep.”
She eyed the bottle “Wh-what is it?”
“Laudanum.” He unscrewed the top of the bottle and poured a little bit into the spoon.
“I agree. I d-don’t want to take it f-for long. I understand y-you can b-b-become too de-dependent on it.”
He held the spoon to her mouth, and she took the medication and swallowed.
“Mr. Smith. I believe it’s time for you to take your leave and allow this young lady to get some rest.” Mrs. Fletcher stood not two feet from him, her arms tucked under her impressive bosom, a look on her face that almost had him laughing. She apparently had no intention of leaving the room until he did.
When he’d told Pamela that Mrs. Fletcher would guard her virtue he hadn’t been joking. The woman was a stalwart of moral behavior.
“Yes, indeed, Mrs. Fletcher.” He leaned over and kissed Pamela on her forehead. “Good night.”
Pamela watched Nick leave the room and had to smile at how he had kowtowed to his housekeeper. When she’d first learned about his background, she had been a bit frightened and decided what he must be like. A man brought up on the streets of London had to be coarse and vulgar. Uncaring and aggressive.
Now she was finding out differently. He might be able to fool her, since she hadn’t known him for long, but his housekeeper had no qualms about chastising him, and she certainly knew him quite well. Also, he’d known the name of the maid who brought his dinner. Pamela was willing to bet her sister-in-law did not know the names of her staff.
He’d been very patient with her when she tried to tell him what had happened to cause her injuries. She could tell by his expression that he was quite annoyed with her for going into Lizbeth’s room, but not once did she consider he might turn that anger on her.
Could it possibly be that he really did care for her enough to overlook her deficit?
Mrs. Fletcher had remained behind once Nick left, and now she puttered around the room, straightening things that did not need to be straightened. It was obvious she wanted to say something.
“Mr. Smith is a fine man.” She stopped what she was doing and studied Pamela. “I know all about his dark years, but he is a kind, generous person. I had been dismissed from my last position because I refused to become part of my employer’s plan to hide his comings and goings to his mistress from his wife.
Lady Pamela and the Gambler: The Merry Misfits of Bath - Book Three Page 7