Chapter 3

When Leopold next woke, the room was bright from the sunlight and Bethany stood by the window speaking to an older man.

"I have stitched the gash in his head, but as he did not wake while I was doing so, it gives me grave concern."

Was he going to die?

"I do not believe any of his limbs are fractured, but it is possible that a rib or two are bruised. He took quite a beating."

That explained why it was painful to take a deep breath.

"His Grace should not travel or even leave this chamber for a sennight. At best he should remain in bed, but it has been my experience that those of higher rank do what they wish despite my advice."

"Sennight!" Bethany exclaimed.

"It could prove to be fatal if he does not rest."

Bloody hell. He was not dead yet, but it could still happen.

"Send word if there are any changes and I will come by to check on His Grace tomorrow."

"Thank you, Dr. Gooding."

Bethany saw the doctor to the door then turned and came toward the bed.

"How much did you hear?" she asked when he looked up into her eyes.

"Enough. I cannot remain here for so long."

"You have little choice. You have suffered a head injury, which can cause headaches and dizziness."

His head did pound and if he didn't know better would have thought he had overindulged the night before instead of being struck on the head.

"Are you hungry? Dr. Gooding suggests only tea and broth for now."

His stomach grumbled, but nausea accompanied it and Leopold feared that if he tried to eat anything now, he would be tossing up his accounts in front of Bethany. Then he groaned. He had already done so. Wasn't it bad enough that she had to see him in this weakened and injured state? Must he suffer the further humiliation of vomiting while she held the pitcher?

"Do you recall what happened?" she asked.

"Some," he answered. "Miscreants came upon me and took everything except this blanket and the rug," he answered then frowned as he glanced down to note that he was now in bed with fresh linens and a new blanket covering him. Pillows were propped so that he reclined and was not flat on his back. Leopold could only assume that Lady Bethany's footmen had seen to having him settled in the bed and not her. Though, she had already seen everything.

"When did this happen?"

"Sometime last night. I barely recall."

Bethany sucked in a breath. "You lay in the road all night? It is a wonder you were not struck by a horse or carriage."

"I suppose I should feel lucky to still be alive."

Bethany tried to read while Claybrook slept but could not concentrate on the words because of worry for him. She then tried to sleep but was not very successful. Even if she had been in a comfortable bed and not a settee, she still would not have slept.

Several times she woke to check on Claybrook for fear that he would pass while he slept. The doctor assured her that those in Claybrook's condition were likely to sleep often, but she had also heard of those who had been struck in the head never waking and eventually dying, which was her fear.

Pushing the blanket aside, she stood and walked to the bed where Claybrook slumbered. She'd seen her brother after he had failed to shave, and one would barely notice. Claybrook already had the start of a short beard as if he hadn't let a razor touch his face in nearly a sennight and she quite liked it. His features were sharper and less boyish, and with his hair disheveled, and still dirty from being in the road, along with the bruise on his cheek, he appeared more rugged and dangerous than the boorish duke who toyed with and broke innocent hearts.

She pushed his hair away from his face hoping that he would stir, but there was no response. He had fallen asleep early last evening and hadn't yet woken up. What if he didn't?

With his face relaxed in slumber, she was reminded of a time when she had truly liked him. He'd been friendly, kind and even found humor in situations. He had also utterly charmed her. Bethany had fallen in love with him that spring even though he was supposed to have been courting her dear friend Tessa. Claybrook and Tessa had only attempted a courtship because at one time their fathers had hoped that they would be a good match. They were not.

A part of that love still lingered and came to the surface yesterday when she had seen him lying in the road and his face bloodied from the attack. Since, she had been trying desperately to shove that emotion back into the dark recess of her heart so that it never emerged again. But it was so difficult when she gazed upon him in such a vulnerable and human state without a hint of the churlish duke he had become.

Bethany shook her head and walked away from his sleeping form. She must put all emotion away for she knew that as soon as he woke and was able to move about, Claybrook would return to his unpleasant and suspicious self, and she wanted nothing to do with who he had become.

Who he may have been all along, but she'd been too foolish to see.

What were they to do? Already they'd been alone, in this inn, for nearly a full day. Such was extremely dangerous to her reputation. She was already skirting ruination by being part owner in a gentlewomen's club and living above stairs, but this would see her completely shunned by Society.

Bethany glanced out the window to the quiet hamlet that surrounded the coaching inn and watched the citizens go about their daily lives and the travelers who were arriving and leaving by carriage quite frequently. She'd not seen anyone she knew, but it was still a possibility and why she must remain in this chamber. "No one can know what has happened."

"Yes, well, it is rather embarrassing to be robbed, stripped and left in the middle of the road."

She whipped around, unaware that Claybrook had awakened.

"The ton would first be scandalized and then have fun at my expense if they ever learned."

Of course, Claybrook was only thinking of himself. "That is not to what I refer."

"I know," he said softly. "Truthfully, if it was just me, I would not care."

"Then it shall stay between the two of us?"

"Yes, Bethany, it will." His eyes focused on her. "I would not have you ruined because you were kind enough to assist me."

He sounded as if he genuinely cared when she knew for certain that Claybrook would do everything possible not to be stuck with her, which meant he would never breathe a word of the time they spent together for fear of what would be expected of him.