The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,52

arrive day after tomorrow.”

Mrs. Pendergast glanced her way. “Then tomorrow it is. And I do think we should do away with all the formality. I am Elspeth. My sisters are Muireall and Kirsty, and my brothers are James and Payden.”

“Of course,” Aunt said. “I am Louisa, and my niece is Lucinda.”

“We must be going. Thank you very much for the tea and conversation. We will see you tomorrow, then?” Elspeth asked as she and her sister rose.

“Yes,” Lucinda said. “I am very much looking forward to it.”

They watched the two women climb into the Pendergast carriage with help from their coachman. “What lovely ladies,” Aunt said. “And I am very happy to be involved in some more charitable work, having left behind all of my committees in Virginia.”

“It will be an enjoyable afternoon.”

“Will it, Lucinda?” Aunt said with a wry smile. “And what part will be the most enjoyable?”

“I’m sure it will all be quite lovely.”

James leaned heavily on Payden as he made his way down the steps of the Thompson house. “My God. I feel as if I’m a hundred years old.”

“Then why are you leaving your bed, James? You’ve got everyone fussing over you and waiting on you. Even Muireall hurries to get the next thing you need.”

“I’m going out of my mind laying up there in bed. Got to see some walls that aren’t the ones I’ve been staring at for a week.”

James was in plain pants and a homespun shirt, his thick robe over it all. He couldn’t bring himself to bend down to pull on a boot or a shoe, as his head pounded when he leaned over. He made his way into the parlor and found all but two chairs in front of the wide front window.

“Redecorating, are we?” he said to no one in particular as Payden led him to the large chair still in its place close to the fire that was roaring. He sat and propped his stocking feet up on the hassock that Payden was pushing his way.

Elspeth looked up from what she was working on. “We’re quilting and need the light.”

“And all the chairs?” he asked. Not that he cared, but it was good to be discussing something other than the thickness of his scabs and the color of his piss.

“We’re having company,” Muireall said, glancing at the mantel clock. “They should be here any moment.”

“Damn it to hell, Muireall. Why didn’t you tell me? Come here, Payden. Help me into the kitchen.”

The knock on the front door got James to his feet without help. He had no intention of allowing anyone other than family to see his pitiful self. He was holding on to the back of his chair, readying himself to walk through the dining room, when he heard her voice.

“How kind you are to invite us. I’ve been so looking forward to it.”

“To quilting?” Kirsty asked.

“Yes. Yes, to quilting and to renewing friendships.”

He turned then and saw her at the door. Her dress a pale blue with some intricate lace collar the color of her hair, which was piled loosely on her head. She was neither smiling nor frowning, as was her usual serene look, her posture erect. She looked like a princess or a queen, and she was walking straight toward him. Every other thing around him fell away from his vision, leaving him to focus on her until she was just a few feet away.

“Sit down, James,” she said. “You’re swaying on your feet. Didn’t your sisters tell you I would be visiting with my aunt?”

He limped around the side of the chair, holding the arm, until he was in front of the chair. He looked up at her, hoping she would seat herself before he fell over and hit his head on the hearth. She sat while his sisters enveloped her aunt, guiding her to the settee facing the window. It was then he noticed the quilting frame in the middle of the seats.

He eased himself into the chair and leaned back, winded with just that small amount of movement. Why was she here? “Lucinda?”

“Yes, James?”

He licked his lips and pulled out his handkerchief to dab his lip. Even though the swelling was mostly down, the cuts there were still healing. “Why have you come here?” he asked and stared into the fire.

“Perhaps I am waiting to hear your thanks for awakening you while you lay on that filthy floor of the boxing ring or for wiping the blood from your face while