head. It took a bit, but enough feeling finally returned in his legs that he could sense he was wearing trousers. It was for damned sure that he couldn’t see them at the moment.
He waited until the waves of nausea receded and his head stopped pounding long enough for him to actually open his eyes and peer at what he was wearing.
MacLeod plaid. Sunny’s doing, obviously.
He wondered if Samantha realized the insult that had been paid to his unconscious self, then decided he didn’t care if she did or not. He had been polite to her, because he’d felt bad about misjudging her. Now, what he needed her to do was get him through the gate, lead him to the place where she’d stashed the lace, then come back with him so he could get the lace back to Lord Epworth and the Cookes to Scotland Yard. He had no other use for her than that, no matter what his cousin and that cousin’s wife had dressed him in, no doubt giggling like schoolgirls whilst they’d been about it.
And then once he was finished with his present business, he was going to get on with his life. He had plans to start dating, big plans, important plans that he would see to, aye, just as soon as he solved his current case.
Never mind that he’d just decided that at the very instant the thought had occurred to him.
There was a T-shirt thrown over the bottom of the bed. He managed to get it over his head without undue distress, but he supposed that would have to do for any and all grooming efforts for the day. His arm ached abominably, which he found slightly disconcerting. He touched the puncture wound gingerly, hardly daring to speculate on what had found its way inside. There was a bandage there, but he didn’t imagine Sunny had put in stitches. If she’d done more than just put a plaster on it after packing it with her miracle salve, he would have been very surprised.
He gathered his courage, then got to his feet. He staggered to the door, then leaned against it for several minutes until he thought he could get the door open and continue on.
He tottered into the sitting room and managed to get to the sofa, but no farther. He sat down heavily, then put his hand over his eyes and simply breathed until he thought he could open his eyes and not have the world continue to spin wildly around him. He squinted at the coffee table in front of him and blinked in surprise. Waiting there was tea, broth, and juice. He suspected that wasn’t for Samantha’s benefit. He wasn’t sure any of it looked very appetizing, but he wasn’t going to be ungracious. Well, any more than he had been already.
He looked up to find Samantha sitting in a chair at the table, watching him.
“Thank you,” he said.
It came out more brusquely than he had intended, but what did she expect? His arm was on fire, his head felt as if it were stuffed with gauze, and there was a piece of Elizabethan lace sitting somewhere under a planter four hundred years in the past and it was that woman sitting over there’s fault.
“You’re welcome.”
He scowled. Why didn’t she just stand up to him and give him a right proper ticking off?
He didn’t want to think about why that bothered him so much, so he simply didn’t. He ate what he thought he could manage, then sat back and tried to ignore how dreadful he felt.
He needed a vacation. In fact he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a vacation. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps he shouldn’t take a vacation at a charm school.
His head was pounding, his tum was far from settled, and he thought he might have to soon go have a little lie-down. And still his lace languished in a place where it shouldn’t. He looked at Samantha to find her looking off into the distance where he wasn’t. He sighed, then set his computer on the table.
“I think I might have to sleep a bit more.”
“Sure.”
He pushed his tablet toward her. “Surf all you like, if you want.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
“We’ll try to go tonight.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You’re kidding.”
He wished he were. “I can’t leave that lace behind any longer.”
“But you’re in no shape—”
“I will be,” he interrupted sharply.
She didn’t reply and for some reason that irritated