Chris stared out the window of the bedchamber Lord Tior’s housekeeper had assigned her. The sun had risen over an hour ago. She’d been awake to see its ascent into the sky. In truth, it had been a long night, and sleep had been nonexistent. She had tossed and turned with worry filling her mind the entire time. She couldn’t erase the guilt embedded inside her mind. If she had stayed at school, perhaps she wouldn’t be at Tior, and she never would have shot Foxworth, and in turn he wouldn’t be ill.
She was a spoiled brat. Chris had heard that shouted at her, and mumbled under the breath of many people. No one she had ever met had thought her a kind soul. They all believed she was rotten to the core, and they would be right. Chris was selfish and believed she should have whatever she wanted. That hadn’t changed much in her years at finishing school. She may have mellowed a bit, but where it mattered…Chris was self-centered or in short…entitled. She had never had any reason to believe otherwise.
Now? She couldn’t help wondering why she had believed herself above everyone. Chris snorted at the thought. Her father had been a rotten man. His own self-interests had led them to poverty and ruin. If Billie hadn’t married a duke, they’d all be in dire straits. Billie hadn’t been selfish. Her eldest sister had been determined to save their family. How had Chris thanked her? By talking her twin sister into a bunch of silly rebellious behaviors. Those actions had led to their separation and each of them sent off to a finishing school.
That should have taught her a valuable lesson. It hadn’t. Her current situation spoke volumes about the lessons she’d learned. She’d sum that up to a firm zero. No, not her. She thought she knew everything.
Chris hated herself.
Foxworth wouldn’t be fighting for his life if she’d learned a long time ago to think of anyone other than herself and what she believed she deserved. Chris wished she could go back and make a better choice. Unfortunately, that was impossible. All she could do was go forward and make decisions that were less self-involved.
She should go and check on him. Perhaps she could take a page from Billie’s book and offer to be his nurse. Billie had taken care of the duke when he’d fallen ill. Chris might be able to do that.
And that was utterly ridiculous…
Chris was no nursemaid. She didn’t have the patience or the skill to take care of anyone. Her entire life, she’d been too selfish to bother with such things as caregiving or anything remotely helpful. She would much rather run wild through the fields or go swimming in her shift than comfort someone. She wouldn’t know the first place to start.
She sighed. What should she do? Chris walked away from the window and over to her valise. The first thing she should do was dress, and then she could locate the chambers that Tior had stashed Foxworth in. It wasn’t lost on her that the Earl of Tior disliked Foxworth. Even if the marquess hadn’t mentioned it to her, she’d have noticed the intense hate rolling off of Tior. She had to make sure that the earl hadn’t harmed Foxworth. That much she could do, but if he had hurt him, she didn’t know what she could do to prevent any future injury to the marquess.
After she had her dress on; a simple blue day dress with white silk ribbons around the bodice, she left her chambers and went in search of Foxworth. The castle was large and drafty. She supposed many older castles were. Even the Duke of Graystone’s castle wasn’t without its issues. Graystone had started to feel like it could be home to her though. She wanted no part of Tior.
She wandered into the sitting room and found it empty. Perhaps they were all eating breakfast… She didn’t want to eat. Her stomach was a little uneasy, and adding food to it wouldn’t make it feel any better. Instead, she decided she’d investigate on her own. She had considered asking a maid, but as she had yet to find one, searching on her own was her best bet.
Chris went back upstairs and started to peek inside rooms. Most of them had open doors, and it was easy enough to look. She doubted any of those rooms would have Foxworth inside. She would have to start opening doors and hope she somehow got lucky and located him. After opening five doors and finding nothing, she was ready to give up. There was one more door, and if he wasn’t inside that room, she didn’t know where Tior had put him.
She opened the door slowly and peeked inside. There was someone in the bed. She couldn’t be certain if it was Foxworth unless she moved all the way into the room. Chris tiptoed over to the bed and glanced down. It could be Foxworth. The hair color was right, but his face was covered. Should she poke him? Move the blanket? She nibbled on her bottom lip and considered her next move.
The man moved, she jumped, and squeaked. Chris put her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. His eyes almost looked glassy and his face was flushed. She knew one thing with certainty: that was Foxworth and he was still very ill. He blinked several times as he stared at her. She didn’t know what to say. Guilt filled her, and she was anxious. Chris was never fretful over anything. This was a new experience for her.
“Hello, love,” he greeted her. His voice was hoarse as he spoke. Sweat beaded his brow. He pushed some of the quilt off of him, and she barely held in a gasp. He was naked…at least the top part of him was. She didn’t want to find out if he was on the bottom half. His skin still didn’t hold a lot of color—except for his cheeks. They were flushed a brilliant pink. He groaned and then asked, “Have you come to finish me off?”
Sutton couldn’t recall ever feeling this terrible. Tior wasn’t really doing anything to help him recover. Not that he could blame the earl. He had done the man wrong while they were younger. If he could go back and fix it, he would, but the damage was done. It would always be so. Which meant he had to accept the role he’d played and the consequences of those actions. It wasn’t pleasant, but there was nothing he could do to change anything.
“Nothing to say?” He lifted a brow. “If you’re not here to kill me, then can you please leave? I’d rather not spend any more time with you, Lady Christiana. Until I’m better it might be best if you kept your distance.”
“You want me to…” She swallowed hard. “I can’t do that.”
He would have laughed if it wouldn’t hurt so damn much. “I don’t see why not. You already tried once.”
She opened and closed her mouth several times. Christiana must not have liked hearing him say that. She had shot him and should accept that choice had consequences. It was past time she realized her decisions affected more than herself. She was a spoiled brat at the best of times. She cleared her throat. “I was not trying to kill you.” Her eyes didn’t meet his as she spoke. “I know I have apologized once, but it cannot be said enough. I was wrong to have shot you in the first place. I’m sorry.”
He must be hallucinating. Had she actually apologized to him again? Sutton narrowed his gaze and studied her. “Who are you and what have you done with Lady Christiana Neverhartt? You actually sound repentant. You apologized prettily enough the first time, but this time I think you might actually mean it”
“Hilarious.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I am capable of being contrite, and I meant my apology…both times.”
“Not in my experience.” His head hurt something fierce. Sutton was experiencing a bit of a conundrum. He wanted to close his eyes because the light streaming through the window hurt his head, but he also wanted to keep his gaze upon her. This was a new side of her. One he never expected to see. “But it is nice to see some personal growth in you. I didn’t realize you were mature enough to accept you might be wrong. You constantly surprise me.”
“Is that so terrible?” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m not…” Christiana tilted her head and then sighed. “I was going to say I’m not always a rotten person, but that isn’t right. I am more than not. I’m trying to be better.”
Sutton frowned. “Some of your actions are not always pleasant, and I am often on the receiving end of the less enjoyable endeavors.” He pulled himself up to a sitting position. Lying on his back seemed wrong for this particular conversation. “We are in a bit of a bind. The earl is determined to have his revenge on me. I’ve been quite ill, so he’s left me be for the most part. If I don’t die from this infection, he’ll take a stab at me once I’m better.”
“That is my assessment as well.” She blew out a breath. “What can we do?”
“You will do nothing.” Sutton wasn’t certain what Tior had planned, but none of it was good. He might try to use Christiana against him in some fashion. That would not be good for any of them. There was no telling what she might do if Tior used her. She was unpredictable. That was part of what he adored about her even when it frustrated him. “We wait. At least for now. I can’t do anything right now. I’m too weak to be much good, and I have no idea where they put my horse.”
“I’m sure it is in the stables. Where else would they put it?” She started to pace anxiously whereas before she’d kept still as they conversed. That as a bit unusual for her. Normally she was constantly moving.
He shrugged. “I don’t presume to know anything where Tior is concerned.”
Sutton leaned his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay conscious and talk with her. He was fading fast, and he hated how sick he was from the blasted bullet wound.
“Are you all right?” She moved closer to the bed and placed a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“Tell me something I do not know.” He nearly growled the words out at her. Sutton had grown surly, and he couldn’t help himself. “Perhaps it is time you left.”
Her reputation was already in tatters. Sutton was in no position to take advantage of her, but in the eyes of society that didn’t matter. He was very much naked and alone with her in the bedchamber. She was ruined if anyone pushed the issue. Hell, who was he fooling? He would have to marry her when they returned. The problem would be convincing her of the wisdom of a wedding.
“I don’t like this.” She sniffled a little and pressed her fingers to the side of her eyes, as if she was trying to stop tears from falling. Sutton didn’t do well with weepy females. “I hate that I am responsible for your injury.”
“Maybe next time you shouldn’t be so happy to put a bullet in me,” he deadpanned. “I will be fine.”
“Promise?” Her lips wobbled a little.
Bloody hell… “Love,” he said softly. “I am not going anywhere. I have too many plans to give up now.” He wished he could pull her into his arms and comfort her. That would be a colossally bad idea. “I hate to be difficult, but I am really tired. Can you come back later?”
She nodded. “I will.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her words pierced his heart. Sometimes he wondered how he could have fallen for such a prickly lady, and then she did something like this. She was all caring and sweet, and his heart beat faster. For her, he’d brave anything and it was time he stopped playing games. She needed better from him.
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. There were no words he could mumble out that would be perfect enough for the moment. Instead, he closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep. She shuffled to the door, lingering briefly in the doorframe, glancing over her shoulder before left him alone with his musings. Sleep evaded him, and he wished desperately it wouldn’t. He suffered in silence and prayed he didn’t fail her.