Shameless - By Annie Stuart Page 0,60

and drifted into oblivion.

Melisande fell asleep. She couldn’t quite believe it. One moment she was lying in her bed, her ankle propped up, the dastardly Viscount Rohan stretched out beside her, for all appearances like the knight and his lady on a medieval grave, and the next she was asleep, dreaming. It took the arrival of the doctor to awaken her, and by that time her nemesis was across the room, shoulders leaning against the mantel, watching her with an unreadable gaze.

“If the gentleman would leave us,” Doctor Smithfield said and Melisande could have kissed him. There was no reasonable way Benedick could refuse.

But why had she ever thought him to be reasonable? “I don’t believe so,” Rohan proclaimed. “I’ve already examined the lady’s ankle—I won’t see anything that would shock me. Go ahead.”

“I really must insist…” The doctor’s voice trailed off as Benedick rose to his full height.

“And I would insist you don’t attempt to insist upon anything. This lady is my responsibility, and I’m not leaving her in the hands of a sawbones I’ve never seen before.”

“Are you impugning my qualifications, my lord?” Dr. Smithfield was a dear man, and he volunteered his services toward the doves for free, but he was possessed of a certain amount of pride.

“I’m impugning nothing. Stop arguing with me and attend to Lady Carstairs.”

Smithfield opened his mouth to argue but Melisande quickly intervened. “Ignore him, Doctor,” she said amiably. “He enjoys being difficult. Do you think my ankle is broken?”

After one last grumble he turned back to Melisande. There followed a few extremely uncomfortable minutes before he stepped back. “It’s my belief you’ve merely suffered a strain, your ladyship. I’ll bandage the afflicted appendage and prescribe some laudanum. If you remain off it for the next fortnight then I expect you’ll have no repercussions.” He glared at Lord Rohan, who serenely glared back.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Benedick said smoothly. “You may send your bill to me, of course.”

“Don’t be absurd. I’m responsible for my own bills,” she snapped, but Rohan simply ignored her, ushering Dr. Smithfield out the door.

When he turned back around, she fixed Rohan with a stern expression. “All right, you can go now. The doctor has seen me, pronounced his verdict and prescribed treatment. Now go away.”

He didn’t seem in any particular hurry to leave. “So, are you going to stay off your feet for two weeks?”

“What do you think? The full moon is in five days. I can either stay in bed and coddle myself and let innocent women be tortured and perhaps killed, or I can deal with it.”

“By dealing with it you mean getting out of bed and risking crippling yourself?” He sounded no more than casual. “I don’t think so. Our partnership is over, Lady Carstairs. You’ll have to trust me to deal with the Heavenly Host.”

She glared at him. “I don’t. Not for one moment.”

“You don’t have any choice in the matter.”

“Then I have no choice but to follow my investigations on my own.” She would have climbed out of bed, just to prove to both herself and him that she could do it, but Dr. Smithfield had already given her a generous dose of tonic and she was having trouble lifting her head from her pillow. No trouble glaring, however.

He moved swiftly, so fast that she had no warning, and he was on the bed, his hands braced on either side of her as he leaned over her, and all pretense of manners had gone. “You will not,” he said in a dark, angry voice, “do anything more to endanger yourself. Do you hear me?”

She stared up at him, her mouth set in a stubborn line. For a long moment he didn’t move, and then his hands gripped her arms and yanked her up, and he kissed her.

Oh, God, she thought, as sensation washed over her, pure, bloody wonderful sensation. How many times had he kissed her? she thought. More than any other man. She knew his mouth by now, the touch and taste of him, the rich thrust of his tongue, the hard edge of his teeth, the sweet smoky flavor of him. Night had already closed in around the room, and the only candles were beside the bed, left there to assist the doctor’s examination. It was only a blur of light, and she closed her eyes against the shimmering brightness, lifted her arms and slid them around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him against her body,

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