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.
“He wanted me to lie and I would not do it because his wife was a wonderful woman who certainly deserved better than him.” She sniffed, the gesture saying precisely what she thought of the man.
“Even though I had no references, Mr. Smith believed my story and gave me this job. I’ve been with him for six years now and would not stand by and watch someone hurt him.”
Pamela did not have to be brilliant to understand the unspoken words from Mrs. Fletcher.
“I agree, Mrs. Fl-fletcher. I f-find Mr. Smith to be the no-no-noblest of men. I have no idea if h-he is in a position to be hurt by m-me, but I would never d-do that.” She hoped her words softened the woman’s expression.
Mrs. Fletcher smiled. “Oh, yes, my dear. You are definitely in a position to hurt him.” She walked to the bed and smoothed over the covers. “Now it is time for you to rest. And I will speak to Mr. Smith and let him know there will be no sneaking into this room.”
Pamela shook her head. “D-do not concern yourself with th-that. I am not that s-s-sort of woman.”
She nodded. “Good. I thought so.” With those words she turned and left the room, closing the door quietly.
What a strange conversation. But it was nice to speak to someone who thought so highly of Nick. Especially since she was now counting on him to help keep her safe and to find Lizbeth. But she wasn’t too sure if she could keep her heart safe from him.
The laudanum had worked quite well because the sound of the maid, Dorothy, opening the drapes and wishing her a good morning was the next thing she knew after closing her eyes the night before.
“Milady, Mr. Smith would like to know if you are feeling well enough to join him for breakfast downstairs.” Dorothy grinned and shook her head. “Mrs. Fletcher has given him orders not to enter this bedroom again as long as you occupy it.”
Pamela couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing at the thought of Mrs. Fletcher again giving orders to her employer. But at least she had no worries about her reputation being sullied.
“I am a b-b-bit sore and will need h-help in dressing, but I b-b-believe I can manage to m-m-make it downstairs.” At least she hoped she could. She really needed to talk to Nick and if he was banned from coming to her, then she would have to go to him.
Unfortunately, she had no clothing with her since the dress she’d been wearing when she was hit with the carriage had been left behind in hospital. “I’m afraid I d-d-don’t have anything to w-w-wear, however.”
“Mrs. Fletcher has clothing for you. The items belonged to her daughter. They are things she left behind when she married and moved to Dorchester with her husband,” Dorothy said.
“That would b-be w-w-wonderful.” She’d never worn anyone else’s clothes before, but right now she couldn’t afford to be fussy. The nightgown she wore was given to her at hospital. “Do you know if m-my shoes arrived w-with me fr-from hospital?”
The maid thought for a minute. “I am not sure, but if not I’m certain Mrs. Fletcher has something.”
It sounded to Pamela as though Mrs. Fletcher was not only a guardian of young ladies’ virtue, but a veritable miracle worker. “Thank y-you.” Pamela used her good hand to toss the covers aside and slid to the edge of the bed. She stopped for a minute, hit with an attack of lightheadedness.
“Why don’t you wait, milady, for me to help you? I will be back in a moment with the clothing Mrs. Fletcher has.”
While the maid was gone, Pamela examined every part of her body to see what hurt the most. It turned out, everything. She must have been pretty banged up and bruised when she was tossed to the ground. Yesterday, the sprained wrist and head injury had blocked out all the aches and pains in the rest of her body that she was now feeling.
She reached out to the headboard and used that to stand. More swaying and then black dots that had her sitting back down. How would she make it downstairs if she couldn’t even stand without passing out?
Dorothy returned to the room with articles of clothing draped over her arm. “I have everything you need here. Do you want to try to make it to the bathing room? Or just use a pitcher and bowl?”
“Actually, I d-d-do need to m-make it to the t-toilet.” She dreaded the idea of using the chamber pot again.
“I can help you. It’s at the end of the corridor, not too far.”
Since she really wanted to join Nick downstairs, it was best if she at least tried to make it to the end of the corridor without fainting. “Yes, if y-you would, pl-please.”
Dorothy wrapped her arm around Pamela’s waist, helped her up with a grunt on Pamela’s part.