of soup and plate of bread rested on a platter. “And some soup? The master would be so happy if you would eat.”
My stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food. With trembling hands, I reached for the porcelain bowl. A pretty bowl with silver piping around the edge and blue flowers. Not the servant’s dishes. Too fine and fancy, no chips. Dishes for a guest. I shifted, feeling uneasy in the role I’d been thrust into. “How long have I been here?”
“Three days, Miss.”
“Three?” I gasped, nearly tipping my bowl. The broth of chicken and vegetables slid dangerously toward the edge before I managed to straighten, terrified of getting anything on the fine linen. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Miss.”
Disconcerted, I took a spoonful of soup, my hands trembling with weakness. Had it truly been three days? The warm broth slid down my throat, easing the aching dryness. The tiny bits of chicken and vegetables were not enough. What I wouldn’t do for some roasted duck. Turkey. Ham. Still, it was something, and my empty stomach grasped at it eagerly.
“Now, you eat while I get the master.”
It took everything in my power not to jump off the bed. “No, please wait!”
But she was gone, shutting the door quietly behind her. I should’ve known better; she would always obey the master. He paid her wages. I set the bowl upon the table, then tossed the blanket aside in a near panic. Gabe was coming. He would see me in my nightgown, my body weak and trembling, my hair unwashed.
Where had I gotten the nightgown, and most importantly, who had dressed me? Most likely some poor maid had been forced to give up the white frock. I brushed back my hair, attempting to tame the knotted mess. It was only as I started to pinch my cheeks to add color that I realized how ridiculous I acted.
“Oh, hell and damnation,” I snapped, staring up at those grinning, idiotic cherubs. “Why do I care what I look like?”
I started back toward the bed, however the moment I took a step, a throbbing ache pounded through my head and the room started to spin. Gasping, I latched onto the bed post. The dizziness didn’t stop. The floor seemed to give way. My lashes fluttered.
“I’m going to faint.”
Strong arms wrapped around my body, lifting me with ease. “What the hell are you doing out of bed?”
I stared up into Gabe’s annoyed gaze. My muddled mind attempted to understand what had happened, but I couldn’t seem to grasp a rational thought. Giving up, I groaned, closed my eyes, and sank into his strength.
“You’re too weak. At least eat something first, for God’s sake.”
He smelled good; clean soap and spicy male. I rested my cheek on his muscled shoulder, my hand flat to his chest, directly over his heart. So, he had one after all. Oh, he was lovely. He wore only shirtsleeves, and radiated heat through the material. If I was going to be mistress to someone, I would pick a man who looked like him. All golden, tawny lion. Gads, the illness must have made me utterly insane.
“You don’t own me, Gabe,” I managed to murmur. I was tired. So bloody tired. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Fine.”
His arms were gone. I slid down his hard body. A surprised squeak slipped from my lips. The moment my feet hit the floor, my knees buckled, my legs too weak to hold my weight. Gabe merely stood there watching as I crumpled and hit the ground…hard. Stunned, I jerked my gaze up to him.
“Yes, I see you can do everything on your own.” He crossed his arms and glared down at me. “Go on then.”
My anger gave me strength. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the footboard of the bed and managed to haul myself up. Bastard. Had the maid truly believed he cared about me? The only thing Gabe cared about was power and intimidation. “Where are my clothes?”
He snorted. “Leaving so soon?”
This was not the man who had nursed me back to health. Impossible. “Perhaps I am.”
His jaw clenched, his gaze flashing with annoyance. “I’ve never met a more stubborn woman in my life.”
“And I’ve never met a more selfish, wretched…”
The door opened. The maid, paused on the threshold, eyes wide. She’d heard the end of my rant, making me look the veritable fool.
“What is it?” Gabe snapped.
“My lord, I was just bringing up a bath for Miss Ginny.”