thing, his mother isn’t going to like this one bit.”
“And what happens when Miss Styles finds out he has a mistress living under his roof?”
“I heard tell he doesn’t even want to marry her!”
“Not marry a golden beauty like her? Whatever is wrong with the man?”
“Quiet, you two,” another woman hissed, entering the conversation. “I don’t know how things were done in the last home where you were employed, but here you keep your mouth shut and get your work done.”
“Then you stay and take care of her.” Footsteps thudded across the room. “We have more important work to do.”
“Aye, like packing your bags because you won’t last long,” the maid muttered.
I waited until the room went quiet. The soft hum of the residing maid was the only sound as she settled in a chair near the hearth. Curious, I took a moment to search my surroundings. It was a beautiful room done in shades of gold and blue. More feminine than masculine. Perhaps a guest chamber?
I rolled onto my back. A variety of cherubs smiled down from the ceiling. I glared in return. Cheeky bastards. Thick damask curtains hung from the windows, keeping out the cold and light so I wasn’t sure what the time of day. I uncurled my hands and smoothed my fingers over the clean sheets. I’d never felt something so soft.
“You’re awake!” The maid near the hearth squeaked and jumped to her feet. “I must let Lord Chambers know.”
I reached out, imploringly. “No, please, wait.”
She hesitated, her round face flushed with indecision. There was an innocence about her that reminded me of Vi. Perhaps my age, but with those large eyes she seemed so young, so naïve. “But Miss, he’s been ever so worried.”
I snorted as I managed to pull myself up against the pillows at the headboard. Down pillows that cradled and caressed my aching body. Blast it all, but I felt like a well-used rag. “Worried he’d be charged with murder? Or worse, his friends and family would see him carrying an unconscious woman into his home?”
I ended my rant with a cough, my throat tight and dry. When was the last time I’d had something to drink? An icy sensation of nervousness tip-toed over me, cold as the first snow. How many hours had gone by?
She frowned. “No, Miss. Of course not.” She moved to my bedside and handed me a glass of water. “He’s a kind gent. Stayed in your room almost every night, he did.”
Every night? I took a sip of water. My stomach clenched, grasping tightly at the liquid. I was famished. Utterly starving.
I shifted, trying to ease the ache in my back. I was as stiff as a day-old corpse and as lively. “He didn’t stay here. Surely not.”
“He did.” She nodded so hard, wisps of her brown hair fell from her bun. “He had four different doctors come by as well.”
I frowned. “Doctors?”
“Yes, Miss, you’ve been ill with fever.”
I lifted my hand to my head, but the skin felt cool, smooth. How sick had I been? A sudden memory whispered through my mind. I’d opened my eyes to find the room blurry, the house still. Gabe had leaned forward into my line of vision, his hair tousled, his shirt open at the collar, the sleeves rolled up sinewy forearms. I remembered thinking I’d dreamt his disheveled state.
“If you think he did all this because of compassion, because he cares, think again.”
He merely didn’t want the scandal that my death would bring.
The young woman looked thoroughly confused. “Why else, Miss?”
I pulled the blanket closer, feeling suddenly unsure, vulnerable. Why else indeed? He could have left me out there to rot. Why had he carried me back to his home? Surely, he didn’t want me in his bed that eagerly. There were prettier, more willing women.
She shrugged. “Yes, he expects the best from his staff. He seems rather cold at times, and there is the gossip…” She shook her head, having run away with her thoughts. “But he’s a good, fair master, and he was quite concerned.”
I studied her warily. The man she described didn’t fit. Gabe was demanding and spoiled. Arrogant and selfish. Wasn’t he? “What gossip?”
“Would you like a bath, Miss?”
I hadn’t had someone draw me a bath since I’d been a child. I felt slightly guilty for being waited upon, but I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to get out of these stale clothes. “Yes. Please.”