I knock again. Still nothing. I look at Katy. She shrugs. It feels wrong to let myself in, but it is my flipping house.
Gently, I turn the handle and push the ancient door. It swings open silently. Katy really has the maintenance schedule down to perfection.
His sitting room is empty. Nothing but pale winter sunlight streaming in. It is the same in the bedchamber. This place feels empty. Unlived in. He doesn’t seem to have many belongings. It is more like a guest chamber than a home.
Oh, no. Please no. Please tell me he has not run away to be with his lover? Oh my gods, my family will never forgive me for the scandal. This is a disaster!
I hurry over to the bathroom, just so I have checked every room before I start a search party. I push open the door. The sight that greets me has me stumbling backwards in shock. Lucien is crumpled on the floor. His long white nightgown looks like a shroud. He is so small. So helpless and vulnerable.
I drop to my knees and feel for a pulse. He stirs and green eyes blink dazedly up at me. Relief surges through my veins and I exhale sharply. My heart is pounding like a wild thing. I don’t remove my fingers from his warm, soft neck.
“Sorry,” he whispers. He looks awfully pale.
“Why haven’t you been eating?” I frown.
His delicate brows scrunch in confusion. “I wasn’t allowed to?”
My jaw drops open. My gut fills with ice. I snatch my hand back as if his flesh suddenly burns. What the actual hell? Why would he think that? I haven’t said a word to him. Not since I discovered his affair and sent him to his room.
Another wave of cold horror washes over me.
Oh gods. I never said he could leave. My staff don’t serve meals unless requested to, I prefer it that way. It is unusual, but I never gave it much thought. I don’t think I ever explained it to Lucien. And, as far as I recall, for his first days here we ate together.
Oh no. This is awful.
Has Lucien really been in his rooms for two whole days, believing the staff were not bringing meals because I had forbidden it?
And he didn’t complain? Didn’t say a word? Just took the punishment until he fainted?
“I’ll go get some broth,” says Katy as she dashes off.
I scoop Lucien up into a bridal carry. He doesn’t weigh much at all and I don’t think that’s just from the last two days. Despite how fragile he feels, the slender heat of him pressed against me feels damn good. It is almost as if he belongs in my arms.
I shake my head to clear it of such ridiculous thoughts and place him carefully on the bed. His hands twist into my suit jacket and hold on to me.
His beautiful eyes are wide and imploring. My heart skips a beat and my mouth dries. He does need me. Want me. My touch is not abhorrent to him. There is hope for us.
“I don’t need the healer,” he says.
The words take a moment to register. Then they rub like a striking surface against the match that is my jumbled emotions. My rage is ignited.
I yank my arms back from Lucien’s seductive touch and stagger back from the bed. I cannot believe I nearly fell for it.
“I bet you don’t!” I snarl.
Gregory is right. Lucien is nothing more than a snake. A lying, twisting, manipulative snake. Pretending to faint. Making me feel bad. Giving me come-to-bed eyes. All to try to get out of the trouble he is in. Trouble caused by his inability to keep his legs closed.
No wonder he doesn’t want the healer. All his lies would be exposed.
Katy said he has been drinking teas. Likely some concoction to sustain him while he appears to fast. All part of his cunning plan devised and designed to tug on my heartstrings.
I turn around and storm away. A sound like a sob reaches my ears, but I don’t care. It is not real. Nothing about my vessel is.
Chapter nine
Lucien
“Sorry to wake you, my lord.”
The voice is soft, but insistent. I open my eyes. It is the dark, quiet hours of the night and Katy is standing by my bed.
“His Lordship has called for a bottle of wine, and you have the keys to the wine cellar.”
I’ve just woken up, and already my face is starting to heat with embarrassment. I’m glad it is dark. I don’t know why Katy seemed so offended when I took custody of the keys. It is standard practice for the consort of the house to have them. At least, that is what I’ve always been taught.
I sit up to fetch the keys, but then I’m struck by inspiration. Felford is alone. It’s late. He is drinking. Now could be the perfect time to make amends. To show I am willing to be a good consort. A chance to see if the healer’s prescription is working and I’m less frigid than I was.
If I can give my husband some pleasure, he will soften towards me. My heart races at my plan, but it is a good one.
“I’ll serve him,” I tell Katy in the dark. “Which wine did he request?”
“The Chateau Mouton Rothschild,” she says with only a hint of reproach in her voice. She doesn’t like my plan. “My lord, you are not well.”
“I’m fine now that I have eaten,” I say with false cheer.
Her fake concern is grating. I feel her eyes on me, but she says nothing further, and simply leaves quietly.
Taking a deep breath, I hurry out of bed and change my nightgown to one that is far more sheer. I muss up my hair and bite my lips to make them all puffy and swollen. With any luck, my husband will order me to my knees. My trainer was very pleased with my fellatio skills. I’m sure Felford will be too.
