Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (26 page)

BOOK: Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story
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Edith continued to brush her fingers across his forehead, hoping some gentle human contact would console him. For a few seconds, his eyes were glassy and lifeless, which made her heart stop. “James? James?!” When she saw him blink, she breathed a sigh of relief.


I'm... alright,” he tried to assure her. “Where is Cynthia?”
“She's missing, James.”


Then you need to find her. Find her, and bring her to me...”


James, I--”

Before Edith could respond, a white-haired doctor with a tremendous moustache rushed into the room with one of the footmen. Edith thought it was best to leave the room while they treated him, so she rose from the bed and went to the door.

When he saw her leaving, James shouted, “Edith!” which made her pause in the doorway.


Yes, my lord?”


Will you come back?” he whispered, in a voice so low she could barely hear him. “Come back and sit with me when the doctor is finished with me? I need you with me.”


Of course, my lord.” Edith bobbed a curtsy as she slipped from the room. “Of course.”

* * *


He has a terrible fever,” the doctor told her, “but I've closed the wound and stopped the bleeding. This night will be the worst of it. If he makes it through the night, I am sure he will pull through.”

Edith's lips were pulled into a tense smile. “Thank you, doctor. And thank you for coming as quickly as you did.”


Are you his fiance?”


Goodness, no.” The doctor's question made Edith chuckle. “My stepsister is his fiance.”


Are you Cynthia or Edith?” the doctor asked. “When he was in the throes of delirium, he was calling out for both of you.”


Was he?” Edith could feel the warmth flooding her cheeks. “I am Edith.”


Edith... I see. Well then, take care of him, Edith. It would be best if someone sat with him through the night... to monitor his condition,” the doctor said. “If he takes a turn for the worse, don't hesitate to send for me, for I am never too far away.”


Of course, Doctor Hodge, thank you. You have my gratitude.”

As soon as the doctor excused himself, Edith returned to James' bedchamber, and she was a bit surprised to find him awake and conscious. When he saw her standing in the doorway, James smiled at her.


You look beautiful, Cynthia,” he said.


I'm not Cynthia.”


Oh...” James squinted his eyes, then he took another look at her. “Edith. I'm sorry. I'm--”


There is no need for an apology,” Edith said. She sat in a chair at his bedside and reached for his hand, which was cold and slightly damp. “You have been through so much.”


Where is Cynthia?”


I have no idea, my lord, but I will resume my search as soon as I am able.” Edith looked down at her foot, which was still encased in a pain-inducing prison. She did not know when she would be able to resume her search, but Cynthia was never far from her mind. It seemed she was destined to spend her days worrying about the people she cared about most. “Is there anything I can do for you, James? Anything to make you more comfortable?”

James' eyelids fluttered weakly, then he whispered, “Cynthia?”


No, my lord,” she gently corrected him. “It is Edith.”


Edith...” He smiled again. “Edith, my heart's desire.”

Even though he was feverish, and likely still delirious, his bizarre claim made Edith smile.


Come closer, Edith,” James whispered.

Edith leaned toward him, hovering over his body. “What is it, my lord?”


Cynthia...”


Edith,” she corrected him again. She laid a hand on his forehead, and was disheartened to discover he was still burning up.


Edith...” His dark blue eyes were frantically searching hers. “I need something from you, Edith.”


What is it, my lord?”

All of a sudden, he coiled a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down for a kiss. When their lips touched, Edith gasped. He held her close to him, deepening the kiss, and tickled her lips with his tongue. Despite the strangeness of it, Edith found that she rather enjoyed being kissed.

As soon his mouth departed, James closed his eyes and whispered, “Thank you, Cynthia. I needed that.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

“Cynthia!” Robert flew from his horse as soon as he saw her fall. “Oh no no no no no no no!” He ran to her side and grabbed her hand.

Cynthia was lying on her back, pursing her lips, trying to suppress a moan. “It... isn't so bad,” she lied.

“What should I do?!” Robert clutched his head in panic, snaking his fingers through his errant brown curls. “Should I fetch a doctor? Can you sit up? Can you move your arms?! Where are you hurt?”
At present, Cynthia was in too much pain to make sense of Robert's barrage of questions. She sat up, winced, and said, “I think I am alright.”

Without thinking, he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I didn't see it happen until it was too late. What happened?”

“My horse got spooked... and she threw me.”

“How did you land?”

“On my back,” Cynthia grunted. “On my shoulders, mostly. Which would explain the soreness...”

“What about your neck?”

“I am
fine
, Robert. I promise.” When she tried to scramble to her feet, her knees gave out, and she landed on her rear end.

“You are
not
fine!” Robert slipped an arm under her knees, and his other arm coiled around her back. “Put your arms around me.”

“What?! Why?”

“I'll carry you,” Robert explained. “Just to the horse. I don't think you should be walking around right now.”

“It is hardly necessary that you carry me everywhere, Robert. I am perfectly capable of making it on my own!”

But Robert kept his arms around her; he wasn't going to give up that easily. “Come on now! No protests!”

“Very well... if I
must
.” As soon as Cynthia coiled her arms around him, Robert lifted her off her feet and carried her to his horse: the old nag. When she realized her horse was nowhere to be found, she asked, “What happened to
my
horse?”

“The white one? After she threw you, she kept running.” Robert lifted Cynthia into the saddle and mounted the horse behind her. “I guess I was wrong to think
this
horse was the troublesome one.”

The brown nag turned her neck and snorted at him, as if she could hear his insult.

“It was your uncle's horse,” Cynthia noted. “I'll get you in trouble with him...”

“It was hardly your fault, Cynthia!” Robert said. “Besides, my uncle is very forgiving.”

“I've been a burden on you.”

“Nonsense.” Robert buried his lips in her hair and gave her a gentle kiss—hoping she would not notice.

“Why am I so prone to accidents?! Right now, I think I might be the unluckiest person in the world!” Cynthia complained. “Georgiana harasses me, Jemima destroys my letter, I nearly freeze to death, then I am thrown from my horse! I must have spent all my luck when Lord Charmington proposed to me.”

“Perhaps...” Robert said with a sigh.

“Maybe
you
are the unlucky one!” Cynthia said. “You're always coming to my aid. I must be
so
troublesome!”

“I already told you...” Robert resisted the temptation to kiss her again, because too much affection would make her suspicious. “You are
not
a burden. Silly girl.”

“Do you think James is worried about me?”

“James? Lord Magnificent? Of course he is. He is looking for you as we speak, isn't he?” With a frown, Robert added, “It sounds like he would go to the ends of the earth for you.”
Cynthia tried to steal a glimpse of Robert over her shoulder, but when she realized she had tears in her eyes, she quickly looked away. “Do you think so?”

“Aye...” Under his breath, he added, “as
would I
...”

When they returned to his grandmother's cottage, Robert dismounted the horse and lifted her into his arms. He carried her through the door, and when his grandmother saw him carrying her through the threshold, she gasped.

“Robbie!” Ada exclaimed. “Is something wrong?! Is Cynthia hurt?!”

“She was thrown from her horse.” Robert brushed past his grandmother, returned to his bedroom, and gently lowered Cynthia to the bed. His grandmother grabbed her cane and followed them into the room. Her wrinkled, weathered face was pinched with panic.

“Cynthia, dear, are you alright?” The old woman's lips were trembling as she asked her question.

“As well as I can be,” Cynthia said. “It could have been much worse, I am sure.”

“Do you need a doctor?!” Gram asked.

“No. No!” Cynthia's answer was adamant. “I don't need a doctor. It isn't necessary. It isn't so terrible, I assure you.”

“You tend to her, Robert,” his grandmother ordered. “I'll make you some ginger biscuits.”

“Oh, that won't be necessary, Ada, I--” Robert's grandmother was out of the room before she could finish. For an elderly woman whose health was on the decline, she was surprisingly fast. “Your grandmother is too kind.”

“She is... when she's not making me rub her feet and battering me with her cane!” Robert said with a chuckle. He leaned forward and peeled Cynthia's dress away from her shoulder.

“Robert! What are you doing?!”

When he saw the black and blue skin, his lower lip protruded. “There are some contusions... some swelling.”

“Really?!” Cynthia craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of her own shoulder. When she saw her discolored skin, her reaction was the same as Robert's. She frowned. “That looks terrible.”

“It does,” he agreed. “Are you certain I should not--”

Having been in his company for so long, Cynthia could guess what he would say before he said it. “No!
No
doctors! I just need to rest for a bit... then I can resume my search for--”

“Lord Magnificent?” he finished for her. “No. You're not going anywhere, Princess. As soon as I know you're safe,
I
will try to contact him on your behalf.
You
should rest.”

Cynthia turned her eyes to the window, where the darkening sky was on display. “It is already getting late. Perhaps we should wait for tomorrow?”

“Perhaps,” Robert agreed. “I have to return to Montforth Hall tomorrow... to work. I can get in contact with Lady Edith, and she can inform your fiance of your whereabouts.”


I
should go to
him
,” Cynthia whined.

“You tried to get to him, remember? That didn't work.”

“But I
need
to get to him. I don't want them worrying about me!”

“Don't
you
worry, Cynthia.” Robert said. “Some way or another, we'll reunite you with your Prince.”

* * *

Later that night, after Gram had gone to bed, and Cynthia had consumed at least a half-dozen ginger biscuits, Robert returned to Cynthia's bedside.

“Lay with me,” she requested, “just for a little while.”

As Robert sunk beneath the blankets, he clicked his tongue at her. “Tsk tsk tsk. You know, one of these days, Princess, you're liable to give me the wrong idea.”

“Am I?! I thought we were friends!”

“We
are
friends,” he said, “but I'm still a man, and men have wicked thoughts.”


You
have wicked thoughts?” Cynthia crossed her arms, even though they were concealed by the blankets, “...about
me
?”

“Why is that so difficult to believe?”

“I just... I had no reason to think that I... that you...” Cynthia nibbled on her lip.

“A man has wicked thoughts about nearly every woman that crosses his path,” Robert said with a chuckle. “It's just the way we are. But fear not! I will try to keep my wicked thoughts at bay.” He wrapped an arm around Cynthia's waist and pulled her closer. He was grateful for Lord Charmington's prolonged absence, for if the earl caught him cuddling his intended bride, Robert knew he would be in for a throttling. “How is your shoulder?”

“Sore,” Cynthia admitted. “But only when I try to move it.”

With all the tenderness in the world, Robert brushed a finger across her bruised shoulder. “You're a strong woman,” he praised her. “You're very resilient. You've survived so much.”

“I'm a fast healer,” she agreed.

“You're strong on the inside, too. ” Robert's finger drifted along the curve of her neck, which stiffened the hairs on her nape. “Your father dies, your stepmother mistreats you... if you were a lesser woman, that might have stifled your spirit.”

“Sometimes I think it
has
stifled my spirit...”

“No.” Robert moved his finger away from her neck and tapped her on the nose. “I still see the smile in your eyes. Your spirit's as strong as ever.”

“I have
you
to thank for that,” Cynthia said. “You keep the smile on my face, Robert.”

And it was true. Whatever happiness she felt had nothing to do with Lord Charmington—and everything to do with Robert. The more time she spent with him, the more painfully obvious her feelings became.

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