his blood-soaked sleeve. Such drama was exhausting, even as it entertained. She hadn’t been raped—that much was obvious, or she would have reacted more strongly to his use of the word. No, it must have simply been some clumsy fool. Perhaps she’d been in love with him and he’d used her poorly and left her. Without even so much as a kiss, poor angel. He wasn’t a great fancier of kisses, but someone like Elinor Harriman needed to be kissed, well and often.
A sensible woman would simply look for another lover, but women were seldom sensible. And doubtless his sleeping guest thought her life ruined after one awkward encounter.
Etienne would do very well for her. She would no longer have to brood about her lack of virginity, and while he doubted his cousin had the imagination to awaken her senses, he was, after all, French, and they were, reputedly, particularly good at that sort of thing. With luck, the good doctor could work her past her painful memories, and then he could step in and finish her education, much to their mutual pleasure.
The Revels were fast approaching. He couldn’t quite see the fierce Elinor stripping off her clothes and her fears to participate in that planned debauch, though it was an enticing idea. It would make sense to put the matter to one side and take it up again once spring had arrived. Perhaps he would discover some new and mysterious beauty at the Revels and forget all about the delicious innocence of Elinor Harriman.
Because she was even more of an innocent than he’d first thought. A woman who’d simply never encountered the pleasures of the flesh held a certain amount of interest if the woman herself appealed. But one who had tried, and been disappointed, was far more of a challenge, a delicious one.
Still, it would be safer all around if he simply transferred his interest to someone more likely to join in the celebrations of the Heavenly Host.
But then, when had safety had anything to do with it?
The blood was running down his arm and dripping onto the carpet, and he cursed. She was costing him a fortune. He’d have great pleasure taking payment for it with her eventually agreeable body.
If he didn’t manage to distract himself in the meantime. He headed back into his bedroom, stripping off his clothes as he went, signaling for his valet. Georges was asleep in the dressing room, and he appeared almost immediately, stifling a yawn until he looked at his master’s bloody clothes.
“Milord, what has happened?” he said, shocked. “Your wound is bleeding again. I will call the doctor…you must lie down…”
Rohan batted away the valet’s nervous hands. “A simple slip. I was awkward. We don’t need the doctor—you can rebandage me. But first I want you to go into the outer room and cover the young lady with a blanket.”
Georges looked understandably confused. “A young lady? Out in the sitting room? You don’t want her in here?”
Rohan allowed himself a wry smile. “I believe the young lady would object. She’s asleep now—be certain not to wake her up. Take the silk throw—I don’t want her destroying the fur one. I’ll manage to divest myself of these bloody clothes and then you may assist me.”
“But, milord…”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did I give the impression that this was open for discussion?”
Georges blanched, clearly terrified of him, as most of the servants were. With reason. He was not a good man.
“Don’t wake her,” he said again. “Or I’ll be most annoyed.”
“Yes, milord. Of course.” He took the silk coverlet from the freshly made bed and disappeared with his usual silence. A moment later he was back.
“She’s gone, Monsieur le Comte,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.
Rohan slammed past him, into the sitting room, but Georges had told the simple truth. She was gone. He went to the window, half expecting to see her running down the street as if the hounds of hell were after her. No sign of her.
“Take the other servants and look for her,” he said in a sharp voice. “If she’s not in the house, send someone after her to ensure she arrives home safely.”
“Should he attempt to bring her back, milord?”
Rohan shook his head. “There’ll be time enough for that,” he said lightly. “Once you’re done, come back and dress me. I believe I’ll go out. I feel the need of company tonight. Female company.”
“Yes, milord.”
Anyone would do, he told himself. He should have known that oh-so-convenient sleep