She was about to admit she’d witnessed two episodes, but something stopped her. Nicholas’s grandmother wouldn’t have asked her question if he’d told her about those episodes, and Louisa guessed he was trying to shield her from any additional worry.
“Yes,” she said.
Lady Overlea merely nodded in reply. For a moment Louisa was afraid she was going to be subjected to yet another lecture about the pressing need for an heir, but Lord Kerrick entered the room at that moment. Her gaze moved past him when her husband’s tall form moved into the doorway behind him. She was struck anew by just how handsome he was. With his dark hair and dark eyes, he had the appearance of a dark angel. Her dark angel. Only he was doing everything in his power to push her toward another man.
A horrible realization came over her as she met Nicholas’s gaze. She wasn’t sure how or why, since she barely knew him, but she was certain of one thing. She cared for him very much. Perhaps even loved him. At that moment she knew she would do whatever was needed to discover whether Nicholas Manning had even a small amount of affection for her.
Looking from her husband to Lord Kerrick, she couldn’t tell what had passed between them during the few minute they’d spent together before joining them in the drawing room. Neither showed any sign of having had a disagreement. Lord Kerrick met her gaze and gave her a reassuring smile before turning his attention to Catherine, joining her at the piano. Louisa caught her sister’s telltale blush under his attention.
Louisa took up her embroidery as they listened to her sister play, but she was very conscious of her husband. He stood by the fireplace, holding himself aloof from the others in the room. At times she could almost feel his eyes on her, but when she glanced up from her work he was always looking elsewhere. She ached to reach out to him, but knew such an overture wouldn’t be welcome.
Catherine finished her piece to enthusiastic applause from Lord Kerrick. She blushed again and stood.
“It would be wonderful if we could play whist,” Catherine said. “We haven’t played in so long. Not since Papa fell ill and we no longer had four players.”
A smile touched Louisa lips as she remembered their frequent games.
“What a splendid idea,” Lord Kerrick said. He turned to Louisa and continued, “As the only guest present, I am going to impose on your hospitality, Nicholas, and claim the lovely new marchioness as my partner.”
A twinkle of merriment danced in his eyes. Louisa glanced at her husband and was heartened to see a brief flicker of annoyance cross his face.
Nicholas turned to Lady Overlea. “Would you like to make up the foursome, Grandmother? I know how much you enjoy a good rubber of whist.”
Lady Overlea shook her head and stood, her movements slow. “I exerted myself today and think I should retire early.”
Catherine was alarmed at her words. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I got carried away looking at all the plants in the conservatory. I had never thought to see such plants outside the pages of a book.”
“I enjoyed myself,” Lady Overlea said. “So much so that I forgot I am not as young as I once was.”
After his grandmother took her leave, Nicholas turned to Catherine. “That leaves me with the honor of partnering you.”
Catherine smiled broadly and led the way to the card table.
Under normal circumstances, Louisa would have enjoyed the game. Catherine was in high spirits, and Lord Kerrick flirted shamelessly with the two of them. Nicholas actually made an effort to join in the conversation, but it was obvious to everyone that his heart wasn’t in the match.
In the end, she and Lord Kerrick won. He made a point of commenting on what a good team they made and smiled at her broadly. She returned the smile but couldn’t help darting a glance at her husband. He was not amused.
Louisa stood. “I think I, too, will retire now,” she said.
She could feel her sister’s eyes on her as she bid everyone goodnight and fled to her room, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached it. She was far from tired and picked up a book to read, but found she was too keyed up to follow the story. Instead, she paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, allowing the warmth of the fire to envelop her. All she could think about was her realization that she loved Nicholas. And with that discovery, she found herself thinking more and more about his death.
A soft rap at her bedroom door startled her out of her reverie. She turned in time to see a folded piece of paper being slid under her door, which was followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.
She crossed the room and bent to pick up the note. She paused when she heard footsteps come back down the hall and held her breath when they stopped outside her door. She couldn’t keep from hoping it was Nicholas. When the footsteps continued she released her breath in a rush of disappointment.
She glanced down at the note in her hand where her name was written. She unfolded the piece of paper and read the brief message.
Meet me in the library in thirty minutes.
~K
The next half hour dragged by as she wondered what Lord Kerrick wanted to tell her that they hadn’t already discussed earlier. Finally, when the appointed time arrived, she made her way downstairs. Relieved when she reached the library without having seen anyone, she opened the door and slipped inside.
The candles were still lit, but there was no fire in the hearth. The room was empty and she found herself waiting yet again. She turned when she finally heard the library door open and was shocked to find not Lord Kerrick, but her husband standing there.
His expression told her he was angry.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
She swallowed hard when he closed the door and moved into the room, his steps measured. Menacing. The odd glint in his eyes sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.
“I take it the two of you have decided to go along with my plan?”
She didn’t reply. What could she say? She wouldn’t lie to him, yet it was vital that he believe what he was accusing her of.
He stopped before her and she barely resisted the urge to take a step back.
“It would have been nice if the two of you had decided to act with a little more discretion. It will be a miracle if the staff isn’t already gossiping about the two of you belowstairs.”
Unnerved by the heat in Nicholas’s eyes, she looked away.
“Tell me,” he said, his voice soft with menace, “have the two of you kissed yet? Surely you haven’t already gone to his bed.”
Her temper flared at the condemnation in his tone. What was wrong with him? He was the one who wanted her to conceive a child with his best friend, and now he was treating her as if she were a strumpet.
She tilted her chin upward and met his gaze evenly, not bothering to hide her own anger. “It is what you desired, is it not?”
She knew he would take that as confirmation. A muscle twitched along his jaw and he took a step closer.
“Did you enjoy it?”
She looked away. Nicholas’s mood was unpredictable and she no longer knew what he wanted from her. “I will not discuss this with you.”
She jumped when he grasped her upper arms.
“Answer me.”
She remained silent. He lowered his head until their eyes were level and she had no choice but to meet his gaze. She could see the turmoil there.
“Nicholas,” she said softly, her anger evaporating in that instant.
His eyes closed and she held her breath. His grip loosened as if he meant to release her, but then he swore and dragged her against his body. The very air seemed to spark around them. Louisa was frozen, afraid to do or say anything that might cause him to turn away from her.
He swore again and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was hard at first, punishing in its intensity. She welcomed it, though. Welcomed kissing him and being held against him. She had craved his touch, fearing she would never receive it again.
Her lips parted and his tongue surged into he
r mouth. She met his urgency with her own. He released her arms and she raised them to encircle his neck, desperate to get closer. His hands streaked down her back and cupped her bottom, and he brought her firmly against him as he continued his assault on her mouth. She could feel the hardness of his arousal and her breath caught with anticipation. She made a low sound deep in her throat and tried to bring her body even more firmly against his. Her desire was a living thing.
Almost as quickly as it started, it was over. He tore his mouth from hers and stared at her, his breath coming in audible rasps. Her own breathing was equally shaky.
He released her, took a step back and looked away.
“Go to bed,” he said, his voice uneven.
She placed a hand on his arm. “I want to stay.”
Silence stretched between them. She waited as he stood stock-still, his posture unbearably straight. Finally, without another word, he turned and left the room.
She could only stare at his retreating figure, despair sweeping through her. She’d thought the situation bad before when she’d believed he didn’t want her, but this was so much worse. Even if he didn’t love her, it was clear that he did desire her. It was equally clear, however, that he would fight his attraction for her to the end.
Chapter Twelve
The following morning she was waylaid by Lord Kerrick on her way down to breakfast.
“Did it work?” he asked.
Her lips tightened as her suspicions about last night’s encounter with Nicholas were confirmed. “You planned that.”
He nodded. “I left another note partway under your door for him to find. I figured if he was annoyed enough he wouldn’t be suspicious about my being so careless. I can just imagine the expression on his face when he saw that it was you, not I, waiting in the library.”
“You could have warned me about your plans.”
He shook his head. “It was better this way so your surprise would be genuine when he entered.”
She made an attempt to rein in her annoyance. It was not Kerrick’s fault, after all, that Nicholas remained adamant they follow through with his absurd plan.
“He was very angry,” she said after a moment.
“Didn’t I tell you as much? Despite what he says, he doesn’t wish to see the two of us together.” He stopped when he noticed her mood. “Are you all right? What happened?”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. Kerrick was the only person in whom she could confide.
“He wanted to know if we had agreed to his proposal.”
“And what did you say?”
“I didn’t reply.”
He nodded at that. “He would have taken that as a yes.”
“He did, and then he…”
“And then he what?”
“He kissed me.”
Kerrick released his breath in a low whistle. “I knew it! I knew he cared for you.” His expression turned sober. “I don’t mean to pry, but I do need to know how things now stand between the two of you. The last thing I want to do is continue to make Nicholas believe I am pursuing you. Not if he has decided he no longer wants me to.”
“He left,” she said, her voice hitching slightly before she continued. “It was obvious he regretted his actions. I do not think he will kiss me again.”
Kerrick swore. “Damn his stubborn hide. That man will go to his grave making himself and everyone around him miserable.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, I have decided that I will not give up. He may have given up on our marriage before it has even begun, but I have not.”
Kerrick smiled. “Good girl.”
They made their way to the breakfast room. Lady Overlea and Catherine were already seated, but the somber expressions on their faces when they turned to her caused a knot of worry to form in the pit of her stomach.
“What is the matter?”
“It’s Nicholas,” Lady Overlea said. “A maid found him this morning in his study. He has had an attack.”
From the look on the older woman’s face, Louisa feared the worst. “How is he?” she asked around the lump in her throat.
“The doctor is with him now, but the attack is severe. He isn’t sure…”
Catherine had been silent until that moment, but when Lady Overlea couldn’t continue, she stepped in. “They’re not sure if Nicholas will survive the day.”
Louisa gasped. Her legs threatened to give way and Kerrick braced an arm around her waist to steady her. No, she refused to believe it. She’d seen Nicholas last night and he’d looked so healthy.
“Where is he now?”
“He was moved to his bedroom,” Catherine said.
Louisa spun around and hurried back upstairs. Kerrick followed in silence, something for which she was grateful. All she could think about in that moment was her husband. When she reached his rooms she didn’t bother to knock and the scene that met her on the other side of the door almost made her heart stop.
Nicholas lay still in his bed, his skin pale as death. The bed sheets were turned down to his waist and leeches had been administered to his torso, dark blots that stood out in stark relief against his too-white skin. Her gaze flew to the doctor, who had paused at her interruption. She couldn’t tell if he were applying yet another leech or removing the ones that had already started to fall off, glutted on her husband’s blood.
“How is he?” She was almost afraid to ask the question.
The doctor, a small man with graying hair, turned away from her and placed another leech on Nicholas’s body.
“Not well. You shouldn’t be here.”
She watched as he reached into a jar and removed yet another worm. Anger rose within her. Nicholas looked to be on the point of death and this doctor was doing his best to drain him of his remaining blood.
“That will be enough,” she said.
He didn’t stop. “You shouldn’t be here. Women are always squeamish at this sight.” He placed the leech on her husband’s chest.
Louisa saw red. Without a word, she marched up to the doctor and removed the jar of leeches from his hands. Surprised, he could only stare at her in stunned silence.
“I said that will be enough.”
The man sputtered for a moment before drawing himself up. “And who are you to give me orders?”
Louisa met his outraged gaze squarely.
“I am the Marchioness of Overlea. Since my husband is too ill to speak, I will do it for him. You are dismissed.”
She held out the jar of leeches for him to take. He stared at her, his face red with indignation, but when she didn’t back down he jerked the jar away from her and secured the lid. Without another word or glance in her direction, he dropped the jar into his black physician’s bag and stalked out of the room. It was only then that Louisa noticed Kerrick and her sister had followed her into Nicholas’s bedroom and witnessed the entire scene.
“Are you sure about this?” Kerrick asked.
“Yes. I’ve seen him through two such episodes and he recovered both times with his blood intact.”
“But the doctor—”
“Lord Kerrick,” she said, interrupting him, “I am familiar with doctors. I saw them bleed my father almost to death during his illness. He never improved. All the bleedings did was weaken him further. Nicholas cannot afford to have the same thing happen to him. Not if he is going to fight this illness.”
She turned back to the bed. Gorged on blood, a few more leeches had fallen away. She was more concerned, however, about the ones that were still attached, slowly draining her husband.
Kerrick moved to stand on the other side of the bed. “I’ve heard salt will make them fall off.”
Louisa shook her head. “They will, but before they fall off they regurgitate back into the wound.”
Kerrick raised a brow. “How do you know that?”
“I tried it with my father and the wounds festered. I did, though, watch to see how the doctor removed them before they fell off on their own.” She turned
to Catherine. “Fetch me the washbasin,” she said, her tone brisk.
When Catherine returned with it, she placed it on his bedside table.
“A seal is created when the sucker attaches to the body. You must break that seal from both ends of the leech before you remove it.”
She flicked her finger along the small side of the leech, using her nail to break the seal, then sweeping aside the sucker. She did the same on the larger side of the leech and gave a low sound of triumph when the leech came away cleanly. She dropped the leech into the washbasin and moved on to the next one.
Kerrick copied her actions, the two working quickly to remove the rest of the creatures. When the last one was removed, Louisa stared down at her husband. He was so pale, his breathing so shallow, she couldn’t be sure he still lived. Suddenly afraid, she leaned over him, her face turned so her cheek hovered over his mouth. She exhaled with relief when she felt his soft exhalation.
“I need to clean him,” she said. Catherine left to fetch another washbasin from Louisa’s bedroom. When she returned, Louisa made quick work of cleaning the trail of blood smears from her husband’s torso. The task soothed her, made her feel that she was actually helping him rather than just standing by, powerless. A few of the wounds made by the leeches continued to trickle blood. Fortunately, Catherine had anticipated the need for bandages and had called for some to be brought up while Louisa washed Nicholas.
When the last of the blood had been washed away and the small wounds bandaged, Louisa looked up and met Kerrick’s gaze across the bed.
“I’ll stay with him in case he needs anything. Can you see what you can do to soothe Lady Overlea?”
“What happens now?” Kerrick asked. She could see his genuine concern in the grim set of his jaw.
“Now we wait and hope that he has enough strength to pull through. I don’t know how much blood he lost.” She looked down at her husband. “Nicholas is a strong man, and despite these episodes, he is healthy in every other way. He will pull though.”
Kerrick nodded.
Loving the Marquess (Landing a Lord Book 1) Page 14