A Rogue to the Rescue (The Rogue Chronicles #4) - Lana Williams Page 0,15

fact, and she had no means to repay him or Lord and Lady Aberland.

A quiet tap on the door had her sitting up straighter, doing her best to push aside her emotions. She didn’t want Lady Aberland to think her ungrateful. “Come.”

Sally, the maid who’d assisted her to change into one of Caroline’s lovely nightrails, looked in. “Mr. Walker would like a moment if you’re awake and feeling up to it.”

Her heart leapt at the news. “Yes, of course.”

The maid opened the door wide, Daniel entered, and her world righted.

“Miss Linfield, I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” He walked forward with a smile to stand beside the bed as the maid settled into a chair in the corner of the room.

“How thoughtful of you.” Her heart squeezed at his kindness. Had he somehow read her mind? “I was just wondering when I might see you again.” She nearly grimaced at the admission. He no doubt thought her overly forward and a clinging sort of female.

His smile broadened. “You won’t be rid of me so easily.” He gestured toward the chair near the bed and raised a brow as if asking permission to sit.

“Please.” How odd that her reeling emotions settled as he joined her, especially since he didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. How could she have grown attached to him so quickly these past two days when she’d spent much of it sleeping?

“Do you have everything you need?” He looked about the room as if to see for himself.

“More than I could ask for. Lord and Lady Aberland are very kind.”

“I have no doubt you’ll enjoy Caroline’s company. As for my brother, I cannot say how you’ll find him.” The teasing glint in his eyes caused awareness to skitter along her skin.

Beatrice chuckled as his jest. “They are generous to allow a stranger to stay in their home. I’m sorry I’m such poor company. I can’t imagine why I’m still so tired.”

He reached out to clasp her hand which lay on the bedcovers. “Think nothing of it. Who knows how much or what sort of drug those people gave you? Then there’s the shock you’ve had. And you’re surely still grieving for your father. It takes time to recover from such things.”

Perhaps she was being too hard on herself. “I certainly feel better than when you first came upon me, so I suppose I’m improving, even if it’s slower than I’d like.”

He nodded then released her hand and sat back in the chair. “See? Another few days, and you’ll be feeling more like yourself.” He glanced away, and she had the distinct impression something was on his mind.

Beatrice waited a moment, wondering if he’d share whatever it was.

“Caroline mentioned her suggestion that you find a husband rather than a position.”

Heat filled her cheeks. Did he think the idea ridiculous? That no one would offer for her given what she’d been through? Because that was exactly what she was thinking.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do,” he continued, his gaze returning to study her. “You have a choice as to what your future looks like, and there is no hurry to decide.”

“Thank you. I truly appreciate that.” But she really wanted to know his opinion on the matter. She bit her lip, telling herself this was her chance to ask. It might not come again. “Do you think it a sound idea or that my time would be better spent finding a position?”

The cost of proper clothing was concerning. She had no dowry to attract a wealthy suitor. Yet she’d also need something to wear if she chose to find employment. How could she pay for any gowns without earning wages?

“What I think hardly matters.” Something flashed in his eyes so briefly she wondered if she imagined it. “What do you wish to do?”

“Surely it would be quicker to find a position. I hate to rely on Lord and Lady Aberland’s generosity any more than I already am.”

“Caroline has two younger sisters she misses dearly even though they live not far from here. I believe she’s happy to have you as a replacement, however temporary.”

“That makes me feel slightly better. Still...” She frowned, wondering if he could understand how she felt. It went against how she’d been raised to accept assistance from others. “I wish I at least had my things.”

“You don’t know at what point they were taken?”

“My last memory of them was at the boarding house. I