The housekeeper smiled quickly and departed, closing the door swiftly behind her.

Rafferty exhaled slowly, and his grip on Rebecca’s wrist eased. “Does it really look all right?”

Rebecca rubbed her tingling wrist as she examined the stitches again, noting the earl’s hair was matted with blood in places. His hair and brow should be cleaned up a little before anyone else saw him. She fetched a wet washcloth, and then picked up his comb. “There was no need to be so difficult. Mrs. Brown has tended a great many wounds, and this will heal nicely provided it does not become infected. No one is yet to die under her care, I assure you.”

Rafferty squinted at her and then the comb. “What do you intend to do with that?”

“There’s blood on your face and your hair.” Rebecca smiled tightly and began dabbing at his bloody skin carefully, and then his hair. The spillage wasn’t too widespread, so it was only a matter of moments before she was satisfied. Once the blood had been removed, Rebecca carefully combed his dark hair into pleasing waves.

He looked up when she had finished. “Would my dying bother you?”

“I’ve no idea. Why do you ask?”

He smiled softly. “In the avenue, after the accident, you said you didn’t want me to die.”

She gaped. “You fainted.”

“No.”

If Rafferty had heard her plea that he not die, then he had possibly heard it all—her rant about him and the disappointments of her life too.

He waggled his brows, which she took as confirmation.

Oh, he was devious! Face flaming, she clenched her jaw a moment before speaking with forced civility. “Why would you pretend to faint?”

“I closed my eyes because the world was spinning, and I kept them closed to fight off a wave of nausea. I was not in a fit state for conversation with a lady of your delicate sensibilities. To be honest, I was desperate to say what was really on my mind at the time.”

“Do tell?”

He shrugged. “I should like to clear up a misunderstanding between us. What you said about me, before your father arrived, is quite incorrect.”

“You should never have heard anything of the sort,” she complained. “If you were a gentleman, you would have made your consciousness known.”

“If I had appeared awake, I doubt you would ever have been so forthright.” He winked. “I do not pity you in the slightest. I merely like the challenge of getting under your skin. For the record, it’s my opinion that any man who turns his back on his lawful wife is an idiot. If you were mine, you’d be in this bed with me already.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Even in his sorry state, he thought only of pleasures of the flesh. “Unbelievable.”

“I can see that my confession has unsettled you, but I will not apologize for being blunt. I may not have an opportunity to be so again, so please bear with me. We’re lucky to be alive, and I don’t intend to waste another moment worrying about offending your delicate sensibilities.” He sat up slowly. “You are an attractive woman, and I think you actually do like me.”

“I don’t. I—” He started to rise, and she held him down. “Where are you going? Stay in that bed, my lord.”

“Now if only you would say that to me when my health is improved.” He pointed across the room as he subsided again. “I’d like some wine to dull the pain. Please.”

Rebecca shook her head. Rafferty was pickled more often than not. A few drinks and he might forget all about her and this improper conversation. “I’ll fetch you a glass.”

“Thank you. I could kiss the person who sent that bottle up.”

Rebecca choked. She may have sent the wine but she did not want to kiss him. Rafferty’s overfondness for spirits was something Rebecca thoroughly disapproved of. However, today she was feeling slightly more sympathetic than usual. Receiving stitches was never pleasant.

She handed him a measure, and when he drank the lot, she fetched the bottle and refilled the glass for him. “Your valet should be summoned to look after you.”

“I sent the fellow away. He’s an expert at polishing my boots to a high shine and starching a neck cloth, but he’s useless for ailments. Stomps his way through my chambers all the time, too. My head hurts too damn much to put up with that.”

“Language, my lord.” Rebecca sighed, realizing that for the moment, she was all the earl had. “What else can I fetch for you?”

“Now that you mention it…” Rafferty’s eyes lit up with excitement—eagerness. When his outstretched hand brushed her hip, she dodged him easily.

“Not that,” she chided, shaking her head in exasperation. “Can you only think of one thing?”

Last visited: Page 7 of An Earl of her Own (Saints and Sinners 3)

An Earl of her Own (Saints and Sinners 3) - Page 7