Part 17 (1/2)

He barked out a laugh. ”Am I? I believe this is the first time anyone has ever accused me of being an intellectual anything. My professors at university would vehemently disagree.”

”Only, I suspect, because that is what you wished them to think. Why is that? Were you merely bored or is there another reason you conceal your obvious erudition? You did promise not to lie to me, remember?”

Some of his relaxed nonchalance fell away. It was time, he decided, to redirect the conversation.

”And I shan't,” he said. ”But come, how did we start talking about me when there are far more fascinating subjects? Your ankle, for instance? How is it feeling? Still painful?”

Her sable eyebrows drew close. ”A bit, yes. I nearly forgot about the pain during dinner, but now that you ask, it has started aching again.”

”Then I would advise a spirituous bedtime draught. A hot brandied milk perhaps to help you drift off into a deep sleep. Or would you prefer a b.u.t.tered rum instead?”

”Neither. I rarely drink anything stronger than wine and I have already had enough of that tonight.”

”But you are hurting, so a mug of something stronger won't cause any harm. Listen to Dr. Leo and do as you are told.” He stood and crossed to the bellpull.

”You are not a doctor,” she said in an amused voice.

He rang the bell. ”True. But you've been following my medical advice all day, so why stop now? Have I steered you wrong so far?”

”No, but-”

”Then there is nothing to do except choose. Hot b.u.t.tered rum or brandied milk? My guess is you'd enjoy the milk more, but it is entirely up to you.”

”How generous of you to give me any say in the matter at all,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

”It is, is it not?”

She shook her head and laughed. The sound went straight to his loins, making him realize that he didn't need anything but her to warm him up.

”Very well, the milk,” she said.

”With a dash of nutmeg?”

”Most definitely.”

Chapter 15.

More than an hour later, Thalia lay dozing against the divan cus.h.i.+ons. Her stomach was comfortably full of warm milk and brandy, the alcohol having done its work so there was scarcely any pain in her ankle.

A robust fire burned in the grate, an indulgence she'd allowed herself tonight because of Lord Leopold's visit. Usually she settled for a modest blaze that died out an hour or two after dinner. Once it did, she would wrap up in a thick woolen shawl to keep away the draughts. But tonight, the room was luxuriantly warm and cozy with no need for extra clothing.

It was so comfortable, in fact, that Hera had broken her usual rule about avoiding strangers and strolled in on silent cat feet. Rather than heading straight for her favorite chair, she'd stopped first to greet Leo, winding around his legs as Hera was wont to do with her.

”How remarkable,” Thalia had said. ”I've never seen her be so friendly with someone she doesn't know. Generally she hides in another part of the house if I have a visitor. I hope she isn't bothering you.”

”Not at all,” he'd said as he reached down and ran a palm over the length of Hera's back and tail.

The cat began to purr.

Thalia had watched, knowing something of how Hera must feel. Lord Leo did seem to have a real gift when it came to giving females pleasure.

”Do you have any pets?” she'd asked, hoping her voice didn't sound as strained to him as it did to her.

He glanced up, Hera still purring happily beneath his hand. ”Not here in London, no. But my little sister, Esme, keeps a veritable menagerie of animals at Braebourne, so I get my fill of furry company whenever I go back to visit.

”I've considered getting a dog,” he said as Hera gave a contented little meow, then moved away to jump into her chair near the fireplace. ”Perhaps there will be a likely puppy in need of a home when I go for the Christmas holidays.”

”I hope so. Animals are wonderful company and they are never cruel or deceitful. Be kind to them and they will be kind back. If only people were so admirable in their dealings, just think how much better the world would be.”

He'd gazed at her then, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

Luckily, the maid had chosen that moment to knock, entering the room with her hot brandied milk and ending their conversation.

Drifting sleepily now, Thalia lay with her eyes closed, knowing she would need to bid Lord Leo good night soon. Her lady's maid should be able to help her limp into her bedchamber once he had gone. She would ask him to ring for her in a minute.

The next thing she knew was the sensation of two strong arms sliding beneath her. I must have dozed off, she realized. ”Leo?”

”Keep sleeping,” he murmured in a voice as rich and smooth as the hot toddy she'd drunk. His arms tightened as he began to lift her.

”I can manage-”

”Not without difficulty. Now just relax.” He straightened, cradling her securely against him.

”But your injury-”

”Is fine. Barely a twinge.”

There was a slight edge to his words that made her suspect he was playing down his discomfort, but then he was carrying her and she was simply too tired to resist. Besides, it was lovely being held this way-much more than it had any right to be.

Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against the soft wool of his coat and breathed him in, catching traces of linen starch, citrus and a clean, male scent uniquely his own.

Another warm blaze burned in her bedroom fireplace, the sheets and counterpane already turned down on her bed. Leo carried her across the room and laid her carefully onto the mattress.

She sank against the feather tick, her head cradled by a pair of fluffy pillows so soft that she nearly sighed aloud with contentment.

Seconds later, that contentment disappeared, her eyelids popping open as she felt his hand slide beneath the hem of her nightgown and around the bare skin of her calf.

Her gaze locked with his.

”Just settling your ankle on the bolster your maid prepared,” he said in way of explanation. ”You still have a fair amount of swelling. This should help.”

My ankle.

Between the liquor and the relaxation, she'd nearly forgotten about the sprain. Or had the pain dulled because of Lord Leopold? Because he'd driven it temporarily from her mind by the sheer force of his presence?

Her pulse drummed with a deep, visceral beat when she felt his hand lie still against her calf, even though he had finished arranging her foot on the pillows.