03 - The Wicked Lady Page 9

  "I don't think ye grandmother is very happy with me."

  "Grandmere is always unhappy, for one reason or the other. Don't worry, she'll get used to you," Trevor answered.

  "I'm not tae sure about that. Ye could always change ye mind about marrying me."

  "I--I," Trevor's voice cut off as he slumped halfway up the stairs, pulling Kristen down with him.

  "Help!," Kristen screamed over the banister. "I need some help. Trevor has passed out."

  "I'll help you," Hagan called out.

  "Thanks, Hagan, but yer just a wee bit small." She managed to smile at him.

  "We're coming." Several of the other servants hurried up the stairs and managed to get Trevor up and moving again.

  The upstairs maid threw open a door at the end of a long hall. "The master's room," she announced.

  They entered Trevor's room where they lowered him to the huge bed that commanded the room. Kristen didn't realize that Trevor had regained consciousness until he said, "I'm not going to change my mind, Kristen. You belong to me."

  The man was stubborn even in an unconscious state. Kristen smiled. She would have informed him that she wasn't one of his belongings, but when she looked up to speak her mind she saw his face had lost the rest of its color. "Let's get ye settled in the bed."

  The servants had left them alone, so she helped him remove his jacket and pulled the heavy embroidered spread over him, then she placed a couple of pillows under his head. Kristen laid his jacket over a chair, then she examined the room, unable to do anything else for Trevor until the doctor arrived. She noticed this room was definitely larger than the rooms in the London town house.

  Two big windows graced one wall and let in plenty of light. The drapes were of Damask silk, flowered with gold. Kristen pulled the panels open and tied them back with a gold cord to let in more light. Tuning she saw a mahogany kneehole desk with matching wardrobe. Trevor's room seemed a little more inviting than the rest of the house, but still very plain and impersonal.

  Though Kristen knew there were an array of servants who could care for Trevor, she couldn't bring herself to leave him. Surprisingly, she wanted to care for him herself.

  On a small washstand, she found a purple flowered, porcelain pitcher and bowl. She poured fresh water into the bowl, then picked up a cloth and carried everything back to Trevor's bedside.

  Carefully, she removed his shirt. He managed a weak smile. "You're the prettiest nurse I've ever had."

  "Thank you," she murmured as she let her gaze travel over his magnificent chest. He was so big. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Now lie still, so I can cleanse yer wound." She placed the damp rag gently over the ugly, red hole.

  "Ouch," Trevor said and flinched.

  "What are you doing to my grandson?" Constance Claremont entered the room without knocking.

  "I see she's recovered from her 'Scot' attack," Kristen said softly as she straightened.

  "Move aside," the old bat ordered, and Kristen had a good mind not to budge an inch, but Trevor was too sick to cause a scene, no matter how much she wanted to.

  "What has she done to you?" Constance asked Trevor, her tone considerably more gentle than the one she'd used with Kristen.

  "Grandmere." Trevor sighed and took her hand. "You need to calm yourself. Remember, you have a condition," he warned her gently. "Kristen has done nothing." He paused, as if mustering his strength. "We were set upon by highwaymen on our journey, and I seem to have gotten in the way of a bullet." He didn't bother to tell her about the other bullet hole, compliments of Kristen.

  "And where, pray tell, were your guards?"

  "With the second carriage. Really, Grandmere, I'm not up to this discussion at the moment. Where is Dr. Harrison?"

  "Here I am, young man. Let me see what you've done to yourself." The old doctor went to the side of the bed and pushed Constance gently aside. "You need to sit over there, Constance. I can only handle one patient at a time."

  "Don't be impertinent!" She glowered at him. "You forget whom you are speaking to, Harrison."

  "You shouldn't forget who takes care of you," he shot back.

  The duchess did have the grace to blush as she set her mouth in a thin, firm line, but she did make her way over to a chair. Evidently, no one usually talked back to her.

  Kristen couldn't hold back the chuckle, and for that slip, she received a sharp look from the old bat.

  "And who are you?" The doctor asked.

  "I'm Trevor's fiancée."

  "Well done, son." Harrison patted Trevor's hand. "It's about time you settled down." The doctor bent over his patient. "Now, let me see to this wound." His bushy brows drew together as he prodded the hole.

  "Easy!" Trevor all but shouted.

  "Not good." He shook his head and sighed. "I'm going to have to take that bullet out, son."

  Trevor's voice was absolutely emotionless when he spoke. "I was afraid you would say that."

  "Constance, bring me a bottle of whisky."

  Surprisingly, she did as she was told. Though the old woman tried to hide them, Kristen saw the tears in her eyes. At least Constance did have a heart, though it seemed to be buried under a thick layer of ice.

  "I think it's best you wait downstairs with that weak heart of yours," Doctor Harrison told her gently.

  "Should I leave, too?" Kristen asked.

  "If you have a strong stomach, you may stay." He looked at her over his wire-rimmed spectacles. "I can use some help." He smiled a generous smile.

  Kristen stepped forward. "What should I do?"

  The doctor poured a second shot of whiskey and held it to Trevor's mouth. "I need fresh water and some bandages." He nodded to the whisky in his hand. "A few more of these, and Trevor will be good and numb."

  Kristen didn't waste any time getting everything they needed. She hated seeing the pain that dulled Trevor's eyes.

  "Christ!" She heard Trevor swear.

  "What happened?" Kristen asked.

  "I disinfected his wound. Now . . ." The doctor looked her square in the eyes. "Can you hold him still?

  Kristen swallowed, then nodded.

  "This won't be easy," Dr. Harrison warned one last time.

  The odor of the liquor brought back too many ugly memories for Kristen, and she started to shake as the bile began to rise in her throat.

  "Young woman, if you cannot handle this, I shall have to get someone else."

  "No-no. I can do it," Kristen shook her head, forcing her stomach to behave. She knew she was being silly, letting all those old memories scare her. This was Trevor. He'd never beat her or hurt her in any way. She needed to push the old memories aside.

  "Kristen," Trevor slurred her name as he held out his hand for her. His motion was jerky and sudden, so Kristen knew the drink was working. She grasped his hand, and he squeezed hers as if he were trying to reassure her when she should be the one comforting him.

  "I'm ready, doctor," Trevor said.

  Harrison picked up his scalpel, and his eyes went again to Kristen. "Let go of his hand and hold him down."

  The doctor poured liquor over his scalpel. Turning back to his patient, he pressed the point of the knife down into the wound and Trevor hissed with a sharp intake of breath as he tried to move away from the red hot pain.

  Kristen had to put all her weight on his body, attempting to keep him still, and yet she could feel him quiver with every probe of the knife. She couldn't imagine the pain he must be in.

  She felt so helpless.

  "Just a little bit deeper, and I'll have the ball. Any normal man would have been unconscious by now," the doctor said, more to himself than to anyone.

  When Dr. Harrison reached the metal piece, Trevor let out a roar and bucked against Kristen's restraining hands. She was going to need more help but before she could ask Trevor to quit moving, he suddenly lay still. Too still.

  "What's happened?" Fearing the worse, Kristen looked down at Trevor's closed eyes, the sweat beaded on his br
ow. "Is he all right?" She realized, for the first time, that she had tears streaming down her face, and she had to remind herself that she didn't cry. Crying showed weakness. She must be strong.

  "Yes, Ma'am. Here's the slug" The doctor held up the dark piece of metal with his forceps. "He's just passed out as most mortal men should, which will make it a little easier when I start stitching him up." The doctor patted Kristen's hand. "Now, now. Let's not have any tears. We're not finished yet, and I still need your assistance."

  Kristen felt Trevor's forehead. It was clammy. "But he'll be fine?"

  "I promise he will not miss your wedding if that's what you're worried about." Harrison chuckled. "I'll wager that the next time I'm summoned here, it will be for your firstborn child."

  "I can't imagine having children," she admitted. As a matter of fact, she'd never considered the possibility that she might have a baby. She could have Trevor's baby. The thought frightened her. How would she leave if that happened? There were so many things she'd never considered. As usual, she only took care of the immediate situation.

  "Young lady, can you hold his wound together so that I can stitch?"

  "I'm sorry. My mind must have wandered." Kristen quickly did as instructed.

  "What's your name?" he asked as he expertly placed tiny sutures, closing up the wound.

  "Kristen."

  "Kristen, don't let childbearing bother you. Believe me, I've delivered scores of babies during my day, and it's a natural part of a woman's nature. You'll do just fine," he said, trying to reassure her.

  " 'Tisn't childbearing that frightens me as much as Trevor."

  The doctor had been taking neat little stitches, but he stopped and chuckled at that comment. "If you can ever get beneath that hard shell that he's put up around himself, then you'll have no problems. But you will be the first young woman to do so."

  "Why?"

  "I really should not be telling you this." Dr. Harrison leaned back, having finished his task. "But in this family, I'm sure no one else will, if I don't. You really don't know much about the man you're going to marry, do you?"

  "Nay. He's never said much."

  "Didn't think he would."

  Kristen looked at him, imploring. "Can you tell me something that will help me understand him?"

  Doctor Harrison looked up and studied her a long moment before he spoke. "Trevor's mother didn't want him. When he was two, she left him and never came back."

  "How could she do something like that?" Kristen gasped. "He was her own flesh and blood."

  "I've often wondered that myself." Dr. Harrison shook his head sadly. "Trevor was such a beautiful child. Always laughing. Always happy. But she simply didn't want children, so she brought him to Chatsworth and left him with Constance to raise."

  "What about his father?"

  "He wanted no part of Trevor after that. Seems Trevor was the image of his mother, and that reminded Claremont of his unfaithful wife. So, what I'm saying to you is that this boy has never known much love. And he doesn't trust easily." The doctor reached over and took her hand. "I hope you can provide what he needs. I delivered this boy, and I've watched him grow into a lonely, driven man."

  Now, Kristen felt really guilty. She wanted to confess that their marriage would be nothing more than a sham. They were not marrying for love . . . .

  Then she realized that's just what Trevor wanted.

  A cold marriage . . . .

  And who better than a stranger to have it with?

  With an agreement such as theirs he didn't have to worry about wooing a woman, he didn't have to worry about love. is marriage would be just like his life . . . empty . . . safe.

  Kristen stared down at this man who had given her so much. He had so much to give. Somehow, she sensed that. But would the wall be too thick?

  What could she give him that he truly needed? And could she teach him to love, when she'd had so little of that commodity of her own?

  And that's when Kristen realized how much they were both alike.

  Alone and unloved.

  Chapter Seven

  Kristen, at the doctor's insistence, followed him downstairs to let Constance know how her grandson was doing. Kristen needed to check on Hagan and change her clothes before returning to sit with Trevor, but she knew it could wait a few minutes. After all, she knew that if she were in Constance's shoes, she would want to know immediately how Trevor was doing.

  The duchess got to her feet as soon as they entered the sitting room. She looked pale and worried.

  "How is my grandson?"

  "With a little rest, he will be fine." Harrison rubbed the back of his neck, his weariness showing just a little. "He needs a good night's sleep to shake off the whisky, but Trevor is as strong as a horse, and he'll be on his feet by tomorrow, if I'm any judge." He rubbed the back of his neck again. "You could try keeping him confined to bed for a day, but I doubt you'll be successful." Harrison chuckled, then added, "Your new daughter-in-law was a big help to me." He turned to Kristen. "Thank you very much."

  "She isn't my daughter-in-law yet!" the duchess blurted out. Her vehemence made Kristen wonder if the woman would do something to prevent the marriage.

  "Now, Constance." Harrison shook his head. "I'm used to your being rude to me, but I'm sure Kristen doesn't realize you have a heart buried in there somewhere."

  "I don't know why I put up with your insolence, Harrison." The duchess looked like an angry dog when its hair stands on end.

  "Probably because you have little choice. Another physician wouldn't put up with you." He actually winked at Constance, then got his hat and started for the door.

  "Kristen, you need to get some rest yourself. I'll check on Trevor tomorrow. Good night."

  "Good bye," Kristen replied automatically, then decided to leave, not wanting to be in the same room with the old bat. How could she have felt sorry for the woman? But she stopped dead in her tracks when the duchess called her.

  "I want to know what you are up to, young woman. I'm telling you now that it will not work!"

  Kristen turned slowly. "I beg yer pardon?"

  "I find it strange that my grandson suddenly appears with a Scotswoman, whom I've never heard of, telling me he intends to marry her."

  Kristen was determined that the woman wasn't going to get under her skin. "Was it not yer wish that Trevor marry?"

  "Of course it was, but--"

  "But not tae a Scot," Kristen finished the sentence for her.

  "Precisely."

  " 'Tis sorry I am that ye feel that way. However, yer grandson seems tae think differently and practically begged me tae marry him. I guess ye never know when true love is around the corner." Kristen smiled at the speechless woman. "Now can ye show me where they sent my brother?"

  "Certainly not," Constance huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "One of the servants will show you to the second floor. At least my mind is relieved that the lad isn't yours." She turned and called for a servant.

  Kristen's eyes flared. "I'd be very carefully how ye speak of my brother. He's ten times better than ye'll ever be. 'Tis a shame our relationship will be painful. I was hoping for something more."

  "If it's money you are after, you'll never get a farthing!"

  "I dinna think that ye instructed Trevor on how he can and canna spend his money. 'Tis funny, he struck me as being his own mon." Seeing the startled look on the duchess's face that she would dare to speak so boldly, gave Kristen a small victory, but she knew battling with this woman every day would be difficult. She followed the servant who appeared in the door, leaving the old bat to be by herself.

  Upon reaching the second floor, Kristen resisted the urge to look in on Trevor, but instead went seven doors down to Hagan's room and peeked in on him.

  "Hello, Kristen." Hagan glanced up from where he sat in a chair looking at a large book. "Isn't this the biggest place you've ever seen? Never been in a house this big before."

  " 'Tis grand. I hope we'll like it.
"

  "I think we will." Hagan sounded like a grown man. He put his book down. "How's Trevor?"

  "The doctor removed the bullet, and said he'll be fine after a few days."

  Hagan looked very somber. He paused before he finally said, "I was worried."

  "That's sweet." She reached over and ruffled his hair. "Ye'll talk tae him tomorrow, but right now ye need tae be in bed."

  "Oh, Kristen."

  She held up a hand. "'Tis been a bit trying today, so do as I say."

  After getting Hagan to bed, Kristen went out and found her room was just as somber as the rest of the house. Rebecca had wasted little time in putting away her clothes and was just now turning back the bed.

  "How is His Grace?" Rebecca straightened.

  "I'm getting ready tae go back and check on him. But I think he'll be fine tomorrow, though maybe a bit sore." Kristen started unbuttoning her dress. "Ye know, I thought he was dead back there. When I think about it, we were all lucky tae still be alive."

  "Yes, mum," Rebecca agreed as she helped Kristen into a comfortable day dress of dove gray.

  "That feels much better."

  Rebecca sat down on a chair. "Have you had a chance to meet the duchess?"

  "Unfortunately, yes. She's a grumpy old bat."

  Rebecca laughed. "That's an appropriate description."

  Before Kristen knew it, she had joined in Rebecca's laughter, too. All the tension Kristen had built up was slowly ebbing away.

  "I probably should have warned you about the duchess. My mum said she has never seen the woman smile, and she's constantly complaining about something." Rebecca blushed at her boldness. "I really shouldn't be talking about my employer."

  "Ye know I'd never tell anyone," Kristen assured her. "Besides if ye don't tell me, who will? I'm a stranger here. I don't see what the woman has tae complain about. She has a beautiful home, people who wait on her hand and foot." Kristen shook her head. "I don't understand. She should try living down on the docks, then she'd appreciate what she has."

  "Docks?" Rebecca questioned. "I never did understand why you went down to the docks. Trevor said you came from a convent."

  "I know." Kristen couldn't make up her mind whether to tell Rebecca the whole truth. She decided against divulging her background just yet. "It really is a long story that I canna comment on because I promised Trevor."