The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) (5 page)

Gathering up her courage, she shoved away from the mattress and landed on wobbly legs that gave way the minute she hit the floor. She landed on her derriere with a thud.

“Ouch,” she mumbled, rubbing her backside.

Then she spotted a stool just under the bed. “I could have used you before I fell.” Pulling the stool out, she used it to brace herself as she tried to stand. Her legs felt like limp straw, but they held. It was amazing how weak her body had become, but she was determined not to give in to that feebleness.

She placed one foot in front of the other until she reached the window. Perspiration covered her brow and her chest heaved with her efforts, but she had achieved her small goal.

The breeze felt cool on her damp skin. What she had thought was a window was actually French doors that led out onto a balcony overlooking a yellowish-green meadow. A small creek ran in front of white stables that were surrounded by whitewashed fences. Adam Trent must have had many horses to fill a building so large.

Jewel longed to be outside, but knew she would have to wait until she felt stronger. Even this short walk had left her legs feeble and unstable. Turning back to look at the room, she marveled at the wealth of the man who’d saved her. Lavish Queen Anne furnishings accented the feminine decor. The Oriental carpets had deep greens and golds with just a touch of black.

This room probably belonged to the lady in Lord Trent’s life, Jewel mused. She remembered Annie saying he wasn’t married, but since the first day, she hadn’t said anything else about him.

Jewel wondered about the man who’d saved her. Evidently, he wanted nothing to do with her because she’d yet to see him. If that was the case, then Jewel decided she’d treat him with the same indifference. She hadn’t asked to be here.
He’d
brought her to his home. She would get well, thank the duke for saving her, and then get out of his life. But where was she going to go? She couldn’t go home. She didn’t even know where home was.

A gnawing fear of the unknown seeped through her body. Her eyes started to moisten, and her stomach twisted with apprehension at not knowing what the future would bring. What if he threw her out?

“What ye be doin’ out of bed?” Annie scolded from the door. “Are ye forgettin’ what the doctor done and told ye? Here, let me help ye!” She hurried over and took Jewel by the arm, guiding her back to the bed. “You’re doin’ well for the first time up, but I wouldn’t be overdoin’ it,” Annie said more gently.

“Annie, what is the duke like?”

“Like no other mon I’ve ever known,” she answered with quiet authority. At Jewel’s look of surprise, she added, “Of course, I’m a wee bit prejudiced. He’s fierce like a lion on the outside, but if you can break past his hard shell ye’ll see a kind mon.” Annie smiled as she straightened the bed linens. “Ye’ll meet him soon and can judge for yerself.”

After that description, Jewel wasn’t sure how much she looked forward to the prospect. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Annie cocked her head to one side and gave Jewel an appraising look. “He’ll be likin’ ye, lass. I’ve no doubts on that matter.”

Jewel wasn’t so sure. Why should he like a perfect stranger? He probably wouldn’t like her at all. Exhausted from just those few minutes, she appreciated Annie’s assistance more than she knew as Annie helped her into bed.

“Tomorrow we’ll be gettin’ ye up and dressed. I’ll show ye the house, but I want ye to promise ye’ll let me know the minute ye tire.”

“But Annie, I have no clothes! I have nothing.”

“Don’t be a-frettin’, child. Remember the wrinkles,” she teased. “I’ll find ye something to wear. That ye can be sure of.” Annie fluffed the pillows as Jewel climbed up on the bed, then pulled the covers over her. “Rest now. Tomorrow will be here before ye know it.”

Jewel’s temples throbbed as she snuggled gratefully under the white comforter. She knew she wouldn’t try to get out of bed again, but tomorrow would be different. She couldn’t wait to get back to her old self again—whoever that was, and she also found her apprehension growing at the thought of meeting this mysterious man who sounded both formidable and kind and whose house she was living in. She sighed, and her heavy eyelids drifted down, but her mind wouldn’t rest as she pondered all the unanswered questions.

She had to find her knife.

Jewel’s eyelids flew open.

A knife? Why in the world had she thought of a knife?

Maybe something evil
did
lurk in her past. Or maybe
she
was the evil

Jewel awoke bright and early to a slight nip in the air. Today she was going to leave this room and see just how big Briercliff was. Stretching her arms overhead, she felt a tightness in her back that soon gave way to a nagging itch. Another good sign her back was healing.

She slid out of bed and found her legs were not as weak as the day before. Grabbing a lacy shawl, she made her way to the French doors. The glass doors swung open and moist, salty sea air poured in. The stone of the balcony floor chilled her feet. Pulling her shawl closer to ward off the brisk air, she glanced to her left and saw the white misty fog beginning to separate, leaving in its wake a view of the sea. Behind the wispy curtain of mist, the sea roared as it flung itself against the rocky shore.

Wrapped in her solitude, Jewel shut her eyes and found she felt very much at home with the sea. But that tranquility was soon erased as she envisioned two ships: one the victor, the other the prey. The remains of a broken ship surrounded by smoke, blood, and death half-
crystallized before her eyes. Memories.

“No!” An agonized whisper slipped passed her lips and she covered her ears, trying to block out the screams of death. Her eyes flew open. She gripped the railing so hard her knuckles had turned white. She didn’t want her memory back if it was anything like what she’d just envisioned.

“And a good morning to ye, missy. How would ye be feelin’ this morning?” Annie asked cheerfully as she walked into the room.

Jewel took several deep breaths. By the time she’d turned away from the railing, she’d managed to regain her composure. Her gaze lit on the clothes Annie had thrown across her arm. “Good morning, Annie. I feel much better,” Jewel lied. “I see you’ve found something for me to wear?”

“Now, ’twould seem all the women round here are a wee bit larger than ye.” Annie held up a pair of trousers and a shirt with a shame-faced look. “However, the cook, Marie, suggested that I be tryin’ some of her son’s clothes on ye— that is, if ye don’t mind?”

“Mind? Of course not. I’d wear anything to get out of this room.” Jewel found herself getting caught up in the kind lady’s merriment. She absolutely didn’t want any more flashes of gruesome memories.

“Speaking of clothes . . . what happened to the ones I had when I came here?”

“They were no better than rags, lass, so we burned ’em.” Speaking matter-of-factly, Annie laid the garments on the end of the bed. “Adam would not like findin’ ye in men’s garb, him bein’ of the gentry, but he’s not due back till tomorrow, so we thought ’twould be all right.”

“Thank you, Annie. I don’t see why His Grace would care. Besides what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him or us.” So that was why Jewel hadn’t met His Lordship. She had thought he was purposely avoiding her. What kind of man would take the time to save her, then leave before he found out if she would live?

“Now, for a bath.” Annie pulled the bell cord, signaling the servants to bring the water up from the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, the hip-tub was filled, and Jewel lay back in the steamy water, enjoying the scent. She was thankful the water didn’t burn her still-tender back.

“This soap smells wonderful.”

“ ’Tis the fragrance of lavender, and ’tis Elizabeth’s favorite, too.”

So Elizabeth was the lady in the duke’s life. Jewel wanted to know more about this person, but since Annie didn’t say anything else, Jewel hesitated to ask. Of course, it was none of her business. However, it explained the female decor of this room. Perhaps His Lordship had gone after Elizabeth.
That
could be his most urgent business.

And where did Jewel fit in once they returned? She wondered about that as she lathered her arms. Would she be sent to the servants’ quarters or sent away? And how the hell was she going to get home? She slid under the water to rinse off the soap, then emerged thinking of the unknown. Scared, she pushed her worries aside and patiently sat while Annie washed her hair. Jewel reached up, and for the first time she realized her hair was short.

“You know, Annie, I don’t even know what I look like,” Jewel admitted.

“We’ll be fixin’ that shortly. To be sure, a few weeks ago ye wouldn’t have wanted to see yerself, but yer bruises have faded now, so I think it’ll be all right.” Annie helped her from the tub, providing a soft sheet for drying off.

After dressing in the clothes provided, Jewel walked over to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the person staring back. Placing her hands on her cheeks, she sighed. This definitely wasn’t the face she remembered. Again her memory was jarred as she recalled her carefree days on an island daydreaming over the fashionable magazines that her tutor, Mr. Lovall, had provided, hoping that one day she might be as beautiful as the grand ladies. But look at her! She had a boy’s figure and the one thing that had been pretty was now gone—gone was the silky, black hair that had hung to her waist, and there was no memory of the face that stared back at her.

“What happened to my hair?” Reaching up in dismay, she fingered the strands that just touched her shoulders. Then she remembered a man ... no, a captain lacing his fingers through her long black hair as he jerked her to her knees and savagely hacked off her long hair, throwing it at her feet. When Jewel opened her eyes, two tears had run down her cheeks. She didn’t know who she had been before today, but she knew some terrible things had happened to her. The question was, what part did she play in all these scenes?

“I didna mean to upset ye, lass. Yer hair will grow back.” Annie squeezed Jewel’s arms.

“It—it’s not that. It—it’s just that for a moment I could see a man cutting off my hair.”

“Did ye recognize him?”

“No.” Jewel shook her head.

“ ’Tis a good sign. Yer memory will be returnin’ ’fore long and ye’ll have all yer questions answered to be sure.”

Jewel couldn’t stop staring at the stranger’s ... no,
her
reflection. Just who was the woman who stared back? She pinched her cheeks to bring out a soft pink color. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided there was not much she could do about her appearance until she was completely well.

She felt a vague familiarity about the clothing she had on. She didn’t feel the least bit strange in pants, but she didn’t comment as they headed slowly down the stairs. According to Annie, ladies would never dream of wearing such garments.

Looking at portraits of the Trent ancestors that hung along the walls, she noticed they all had cold and unhappy countenances. She could truthfully say she was glad she didn’t have to meet any of these men. The present duke would probably be bad enough.

First, they entered the sitting room, where the rich cherry-wood paneling smelled of beeswax and a large white Persian rug sprawled across the oak floor. Jewel stepped on the thick carpet, skirting the family crest boldly dominating the very center of the rug.

Sapphire blue surrounded the outside edge of the crest, and in the center a bold knight dressed in armor sat astride a mighty black stallion. The mantle draped above the helm was blood red. Under the knight was sprawled the Latin for the motto
one so bold.

Velvet drapes of the same sapphire blue hue covered the windows. Everything in the room proclaimed the wealth of the Trent family.

“It’s beautiful,” Jewel finally said.

“I think so, too,” Annie admitted. “This carpet took over two years for the weavers to finish. I daresay there’s not another like it.”

Just how wealthy was this man? He must have paid a small fortune for a rug of this quality, Jewel thought.

“Lass, I’ve some things to be doin’ in the kitchen,” Annie explained. “Ye can stay in here if ye like or ye can come with me.”

“I’d like to see the cooking area, if you don’t mind. I promise not to get in the way.”

The place reminded Jewel of a beehive with so many people coming and going. The aroma of freshly baked bread scented the air as a big, gray-clad woman stood in the center of the room, swinging a leg of lamb as if it were a mere chicken bone. Jewel decided quickly that the cook wasn’t a woman to be crossed. Jewel glanced around the kitchen and noticed an abundance of everything. It appeared they were preparing enough food to feed an army.

“Are we having company?” she asked the cook.

“Not company, but His Grace.” The cook picked up a pot full of hot broth and a big spoon and moved to the fireplace. “A messenger just arrived with a note from His Lordship. He sent word he’ll be here tonight for dinner, so there are many things to be done.” When she finished basting the lamb with broth, she looked at Jewel. “His Grace insists his staff eat as well as he does; that’s the reason you see so much food,” the cook explained as she carried the roast over to the fireplace.