Page 102 of In the Prince's Bed

“I can only imagine,” Katherine said dryly, as Alec stiffened.

“I put her in the front parlor while I was making the tea.” Mrs. Brown set the tray by the bed. “But when I returned, she’d gone off to sleep, poor thing. Right there in the chair.”

“We did have a long trip.” Katherine poured the tea and handed Alec a cup. “And we rose very early.”

Mrs. Brown wiped her hands on her apron. “I put a shawl over her, so she wouldn’t catch cold.” She looked them both over. “I see you’re feeling better, my lord. But I could make a poultice for your head—”

“No need. Miss Merivale is taking good care of me.”

“You’d best eat something.”

Not if he wanted tokeepfeeling better. “That will be all, Mrs. Brown.”

Pursing her lips, she said primly, “Very well. Then I’ll go see about supper.”

After she left, Katherine cast him a chastening glance. “I know you don’t feel well, but you didn’t need to be rude.”

“It was either that or eat those.” He gestured to the lumps. “I’d rather die.”

She eyed him askance. “Don’t be silly—how bad can they be?”

“Mrs. Brown has been our housekeeper for years, but she didn’t do the cooking until we lost our cook right before I came home. She’s not very good.”

“She can’t bethatawful,” she said as she picked a lump up and took a bite. Or rather, attempted to take a bite. It was more like a tearing with the teeth, the way a dog tears meat off the bone. As she chewed, she carefully laid the lump back down on the platter. “I…um…see what you mean. What on earth is that supposed to be?”

“Does it taste like spiced mud? And have the consistency of leather?”

She nodded, eyes round.

“Gingerbread cakes. Those are actually tolerable compared to her apple tarts. She takes the ‘tart’ part very seriously.”

“My goodness, we’ll have to hire a cook at once.”

“If you want me to live here, you will.”

She laughed. “Are Mrs. Brown and Mr. Emson your only servants?”

“Almost. There’s John, the coachman you met, and Mrs. Brown’s two daughters, who are housemaids. Her husband is the gamekeeper. He makes sure the larder stays stocked with fresh meat for his wife to cook badly. I need more staff.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I should say so. We have nearly that many servants at Merivale Manor, and this place is four times its size.” She glanced around. “Oh, dear, will it be too much a hardship for Mama and me to stay here tonight?”

“Blast.” He rose, wincing when his head pounded. “I forgot to tell Mrs. Brown to prepare a couple of rooms for you—”

“Don’t!” She tugged him back onto the bed. “I’ll go tell her. You lie back and rest.”

“I don’t want to rest.” He reached for the shoes she’d removed earlier.

She whisked them away, along with his coat. “Now, now, none of that. Lie down. I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Watching as she left, carrying his clothing with her, he couldn’t decide whether to feel irritated or heartened by her overprotectiveness.

Or just plain guilty. But telling the truth would devastate her. She seemed so happy to be of use to him, so delighted by the prospect of using her money to restore Edenmore. How could he deprive her of that pleasure?

All right, so he was making excuses. The truth was, he didn’t want to lose her. If he could only keep her happy until they married—

Damn, had he brought the special license with him from London? If he hadn’t, that would delay everything more.

He left the bed, swayed a bit, then was able to steady himself. Now, where had Emson put those papers? Ah, yes, in his study downstairs. He looked for his shoes, remembered Katherine had taken them, then went looking for another pair in his closet. As he rummaged around, he heard her come up behind him.