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on her.”
“She had her fair share of verbal sparring sessions with Hart, Elizabeth! I grow weary of this conversation. Like it or not .…” he said, using her words against her. “My sister is my sister, and I will not abandon her. We can fight like cats and dogs, but no one else will ever harm her while I draw breath! Do you understand? Being an only child, I know you have very little knowledge of the sibling bond, but it doesn’t die just because we had an argument. She put her neck on the line for my family—now, I must repay her in kind, and if you ever try to convince me to abandon her again, I will react this same way. We don’t often argue, but when we do .…”
“I don’t want to fight.” She walked toward him. “I just wanted to see if you would see sense. Since you seem bound and determined to put yourself out on a limb in front of all of England, then, I will support you.”
* * * *
“I don’t think that will be an issue, Mallory.”
His sister Ann walked into the breakfast room. “Have you seen the morning
paper, yet?”
She slammed it down on the table. “You’ll want to read the announcement of marriage between
our
Gemma and
he
.”
“What?” Mallory gasped.
“It’s all in black and white there—he has forced her into marriage—she is legally tied to him now. We have no idea where she is … or what state she’s in and you’re arguing with Elizabeth about whether or not you’ll be charged for being the infamous Rafe Morgan. I don’t care at this point, you always figure out a way to slip out of a sticky situation. I’m sick of you dragging this family through the mud with you. I want you to find our sister!”
“Ann, calm yourself,” he ordered.
“Or, what? You’ll send me up to my room? I’m sick of that superiority complex you have as well, Mallory. We did fine without you when you were on campaign—if only you’d allow me to pursue Gemma.”
“They left no discernable trail … we have no idea where Gemma could be.”
“You haven’t even made the proper inquiries,” Ann pointed out angrily.
“I have my men working for me pounding the docks to find out where he took
her.”
“Balderdash. What do you take me for? A simpleton? I overheard some of your conversation with Elizabeth. She seems quite happy to be rid of Gemma. Of course Elizabeth wouldn’t want you risking your neck for Gemma—why should she? She’s not one of us.”
“Ann—you go too far,” Hart snapped, looking over at Elizabeth. Elizabeth
merely dropped her head to look at the floor.
Ann gave a triumphant glance toward Elizabeth. “You should take her silence as her admission of guilt.”
“Do not paint me as the villain in this particular scenario, Ann. I didn’t arrange HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 106
for Gemma to be taken captive,” Elizabeth whispered. “She willingly put herself in the line of fire to save Susan and I.”
“And you repay her by condoning Mallory’s disregard? You should be lighting a fire under his arse! You should be telling him to get a move on in finding her and bringing her home! This is no joke, Elizabeth! The man that took Gemma is not Mallory—he is not just seeking revenge for having his inheritance stolen from him, he’s exacting revenge for having his brother taken from him—money and lives are not even comparable. He is seeking revenge for a death! He will do whatever it takes to pay us back! What do you think he’s going to do to Gemma? Love her and cherish her?”
Slowly, Elizabeth’s face transformed. Mallory knew he should be interceding on her behalf, but Ann’s words were finally sinking into his thick skull. She was right—
Hart wasn’t like him—
“You were so bloody stupid, Mallory. You wanted to get her away from that little son of a bitch, Kilworth that you went and hired her a keeper! For the love of God, Mallory! You were away from us for so long, that you didn’t even know that she would have seen sense in time and broken off the engagement. I was already finding the evidence needed to sink Kilworth’s ship and yet, you as the upstanding brother thought you would swoop in and save the day. We might be females, but we aren’t insipid little idiots! Hart MacKinnon turned out to be far worse than Kilworth—I do hope you are happy with yourself! And, don’t even let me get started on that bloody Spaniard, Herrer.
Maybe they are both making poor Gemma’s life miserable,” Ann railed, her face turning red with her anger.
“Ann?” Their mother’s soft voice interrupted Ann’s heated words.
“Mama? I thought you were still resting,” Ann’s furtive gaze went to their mother.
“I feel restless. I can’t seem to stop thinking of Gemma. I’m so distraught.
Mallory, have you heard anything on her whereabouts yet?”
Elizabeth snatched the paper and was perusing the article announcing their
marriage intently. “Mallory—you said that Hart came from a distinguished noble blooded family—right?”
“Aye.”
“Then, why don’t you just use his family ties to track him down? He’s probably with his family if they hold that much power.”
“What family? What family ties does this blackguard have?” His mother
demanded.
“It says here that his mother is a Lennox.”
“Then, I know what to do.” He’d never heard his mother talk like this before—but he knew one thing—she was on a mission, and she never backed down until she completed that mission.
HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 107
Hazy misty images clouded her brain. Gemma tried to move but found that her arms and legs weighed like a ton. She couldn’t wait until she was feeling better and they’d all go and watch the opera. A strange sensation started to prick at the back of her mind … she wasn’t alone in bed.
Rolling over, she opened her eyes. Her eyelids weighed a ton as well. Her mouth felt dry and yet, sticky. She pinched her face up. Recognition flooded back to her.
Hart
.
Taking her one hand, she poked him soundly in the side, making him jump. He was reaching for something, and she realized it was his pistol a moment too late.
“What the hell?” He had the pistol in his hand and was turning to level it at the door when he must have finally risen out of his sleepy stupor.
“Gemma? Why did you poke me?”
“I poked you because you are in my bed. I like to sleep alone, thank you.”
She’d been awake for a few days now, getting back her strength through
fortifying broths and draughts courtesy of Maeve. She hadn’t had any real food though, her stomach was grumbling, telling her it was time for something solid. In the couple of days since she awaken from her fever, Hart had kept his distance. She’d almost believed he’d given up on her, on them, but he hadn’t. Here he was sleeping once again in her bed. Obviously, Maeve had told him she was strong enough to have her husband back in her life. The first few days had been hell getting back on her wobbly legs and trying to get the room to stop rocking from side to side.
“I don’t.” His eyes twinkled with good humor. “In the future, I advise you to not rouse me so suddenly and abruptly. I’m known to wake up shooting.”
“Always on the defensive .…” her voice trailed off. It was still night.
“What happened to the morning?”
“You slept through that and the afternoon, and most of the early evening. It’s around midnight, now, I’d imagine. I take it your last exercise session with Maeve wore you out.” He looked over at the clock. “Aye, it’s half past twelve.”
Her stomach sunk. “But I feel as if it should be morning, I’m hungry, and
thirsty.”
“I’m happy to hear that you are feeling better.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that I feel tickety-boo, but I do feel better than what I did when you found me running away from you. Why did you remain away from me? You must have known that I’ve been out of the throes of the fever for the last few days.”
His eyes sparked with a mysterious twinkle. “So, you openly admit that you were trying to escape me?”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s well known that is the duty of the captive to attempt to escape their captor at every and any opportunity.”
“You aren’t my captive! You are my wife!” he bellowed.
“Well, you didn’t need to shout that at the top of your bloody lungs!” She sat up.
HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 108
The sheets fell off of her. A sudden thought occurred to her.
“How long did you say I was out? And how long have you been in my bed?
Maeve never really did tell me how long the deep fever fit lasted. I know I was talking in my sleep, and I felt like I was drowning I was so tired.”
She searched his face. His hair was sticking up all over the place, and his eyes were bloodshot. His face was shadowed with dark stubble from a lack of not shaving.
“The fever put you out of it for more or less two or three days.”
“Two days? Huh. Did you nurse me back to health?” Sitting up, she crossed her legs beneath her, and rested her hands on the coverlet.
“I left that up to Maeve and my darling mother. I, on the other hand must have worked some new grooves in the floor.” He let out a shuddering laugh, scrubbing his hand over his face. He grunted. “I’m thankful to see you awake and not talking fustian nonsense anymore.”
“Fustian nonsense? I don’t follow.”
She looked longingly over at a bowl filled with fruit. Licking her lips, she looked over at him. “Would it be possible to go down to the kitchens and rustle up some solid food?”
“It might be. I guess we could go and open the kitchen.”
“Good. I’m so hungry.”
“Nothing heavy for you until you’ve had time to adjust. You need to take it easy.”
“I’m beginning to get that. Maybe Maeve had me on light broths and tonics for a reason.” A wave of disorientation washed over her when she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Whoa. Where’s my dressing gown? I left it on the foot of the bed ….”
He’d sprung to his feet quicker than she. Already, he wore his slippers and dressing gown. “It might be chilly down in the kitchens. I’d like you to wear this with your dressing gown.” He handed her a knitted muffler to wear beneath her dressing gown. Her hair was still hanging loosely around her shoulders. Slipping her feet into slippers that fit her rather well, she stood up and allowed him to assist her in getting on her muffler and dressing gown. She was still quite shaky on her feet, despite the fact that Maeve had massaged her limbs frequently and walked her around the room several times.
She couldn’t understand why Hart hadn’t helped in her recovery. Had he even been at Skylark Castle?
“God, you are quite wobbly. Maybe I should carry you down the stairs.”
“I’ll be fine.” She inhaled a huge lungful of air and walked over to the nearby dressing table. She opened the drawers searching for a ribbon to tie back her hair.
“I like it loose around your shoulders. You never told me you had curly hair,” his voice warmed the nape of her neck. He’d wrapped her arms around her pulling her into the blanket of his body heat.
“I like it tied out of my face … would you want it to fall in my line of vision? As for my hair being curly, I didn’t think it would please you as much as it seems to.” She gave him a smile.
“You’re so damn stubborn.”
“I know—and I thought you liked me that way.”
He laughed. “I guess I can’t fault that line of logic.”
“Ah ha!” She reached for a ribbon. “We’ll have to stock this dressing table with HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 109
the sort of things I need. I never thought to see if this stuff was stocked for me before since Maeve always simply braided my hair for me. She is quite a sweet woman. I recall seeing your mother a few times …. But you never once visited me. Why?”
He cleared his throat nervously. “I had other business that needed my immediate attention. I’m so sorry, Gemma. As for your needed supplies, I thought I could leave that to you … I took care of everything else.”
“Well, I will be traveling to London as soon as possible to order my own
trousseau.” She stopped, suddenly realizing what her words entailed.
“Then, you aren’t planning on leaving me and running back to mommy.”
“I—” Her voice caught in her throat. “I don’t know.” She shrugged her
shoulders. “I need to stay … we have a few things to settle between us—and we need to figure out where your brother has been for the last .…” She paused thoughtfully. “How long has he been supposedly dead for?”
“He was shot in 1812.”
“Really? That means he’s been missing for twelve years.”
“Not missing—he’s dead.”
“You are mistaken in that thought.” She adamantly shook her head, turning away from him, and then she walked to stand in front of the full-length mirror. She slowly worked her hands, brushing her hair and then pulling it back into a simple braid. It wasn’t something she’d ever show to company—but it would do.
“You wake up from a fever and after a few days of recuperation, I hoped you’d return to your self … I was wrong—you’ve been affected more than I thought. Don’t say that to anyone else but me … they’ll think you really are addled. Maybe your brains turned to jelly during the height of the fever.”
“I am speaking the truth! Honestly, Hart. Whatever you think, I don’t want to argue with you right now, so let’s just agree to disagree.”
When she turned around, he saw the fatigue still written across her delicate features. A gust of cool air rippled through the room. He watched her shiver. “I told you this old place could be drafty at times,” he warned.