which he’d plunged into the water. Incredibly, I don’t believe he’s sustained so much as a hairline fracture.”
Dahlia let out a breath. “Thank goodness.”
“But he may have suffered a mild concussion along with those three damaged ribs. They’re badly bruised, not broken. But they’re still fragile and might break if he doesn’t take care of himself. For now, there is not much to do other than keep him resting so that his rib cage can heal on its own. This means he cannot run around. He has to stay in bed and let his body recover. His brain must also heal. This is probably most important. These concussions are insidious things if not properly tended. He may think he’s all right, but years later, he will begin to feel the effects. Headaches. Dizziness. Loss of memory.”
Dahlia’s hand was once more at her heart. “I’ll do my best to keep him at rest.”
She hurried upstairs, leaving her uncle while he took another moment to speak to her sisters.
In truth, she did not wish to be anywhere but by Ronan’s side.
Robbie breathed a sigh of relief when she walked in. “Och, he’s a pain in the arse. He even riled yer uncle, and I dinna think the great George Farthingale could ever be ruffled. But ye’d better keep yer eyes closed. And do no’ think to lift the sheet to look at his injuries. He is no’ dressed. Not a stitch on him.”
She gasped, and her gaze shot straight to Ronan.
Ronan returned her bemused gaze with a steamy one of his own. “Leave us a moment, Robbie. Please.”
“I want yer promise, ye’ll keep that sheet covering you.”
“Of course, I will.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “I’m wounded, not insane. You have my word on it.”
“Well, I suppose there’s no harm then, not in yer condition. Ye have two minutes alone with her. That’s all I dare give ye. Dahlia, just shout if he does something stupid. He is no’ to be trusted around ye. I blame it on that book the two of ye have been reading. He’ll be spouting love sonnets in another moment. I’ll hit him if he does.”
Once Robbie left, she sat on the bed, her hip grazing Ronan’s hip as she sank onto the mattress. “Why are you behaving like an ill-tempered brat?”
His eyes were filled with pain, although she did not think the pain was from his physical injuries. “You didn’t say it back to me, Queen Pea.”
She took his hand and drew it to her lips. “Is this what has you so worked up you’d risk a brain hemorrhage?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Did your uncle tell you to say this?”
“No. I actually know a few big words. Some even with ancient Greek or Latin roots. Hemo means blood, and ragia means to burst or break.”
“Gad! Enough. You are arousing my sense receptacles. I think I’ll ask you to read Latin to me once I have you in my bed.”
“I am already in your bed. Have you not noticed?”
“On my bed is altogether different than in my bed. In means me doing all sorts of wicked things to your delectable, bluestocking body while you surrender to my irresistible prowess. On means you’re primly perched atop my bed with your lips pinched and about to berate me, as you are doing now. It does not count.”
“You are quite irascible, you know.”
“Kiss me, Queen Pea.”
“All right. Stop talking long enough for me to place my mouth on yours.” She bent forward and planted a soft but heartfelt kiss on his lips. “I love you, Ronan Brayden,” she said in a broken whisper once she’d pulled away. “There. You’ve had your kiss and my admission of love. Will you behave now?”
“Not a chance in hell. Do you mean it? Do you love me?”
She nodded. “Hopelessly, you wickedly handsome clot.”
“I love you, too.” He caressed her cheek. “Now tell me how you are doing. What have you been up to while I’ve been gone?”
She nibbled her lip, not wanting to add to his concerns. “The Duke of Stoke introduced me to his daughter. She and I are going to redecorate his study.”
Ronan groaned. “There’s a big but hidden in there somewhere. I can feel the sudden tension in your hand.”
“The duke wants me to help him with his daughter. He knows you are not the man she has her heart set on. And she has finally admitted there is no marquess.”
“That is good, isn’t it?” He studied her features. “Bollocks, what’s the