Page 71 of Road Trip With a Rogue

“A little after midnight.” He didn’t seem annoyed that she was keeping him awake.

“The servants will have retired for the night. Don’t wake them up just to make me some food.”

“It’s no bother. I told them to leave some soup on the stove for you, in case you woke up. I’ll go and get it.”

He stood, a tall shadow in the darkness, and when he opened the door, she saw him silhouetted against the faint glow from the hall. His hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it, and the collar of his shirt was standing up at an odd angle. It made him look appealingly disheveled.

Daisy propped herself up against the pillows when he’d gone. There was a candle in a brass holder by the bed, and she lit it with the tinderbox that sat next to it.

She was still almost fully dressed. Someone had removed her boots and her jacket, but left her in her shirt, breeches, and stockings. For comfort, she wriggled out ofher breeches, confident that Vaughan wouldn’t see what she had on beneath the covers.

He returned a short while later, carrying a tray that he placed on her lap, and she quashed her guilt at having him play nursemaid and servant for her. It was nice to be coddled for a change. The inviting aromas of warm bread and vegetable soup made her mouth water, and she dipped the spoon into the bowl with a happy little sigh.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

He resettled himself in the chair, and she tried not to feel self-conscious as he watched her eat.

“There’s no need to stay,” she said, swallowing a mouthful of bread. “You can go to bed if you want.”

His mouth curved at the corners. “You asked me to stay. Don’t you remember?”

Heat warmed her cheeks. Had she said that? She’d certainlywantedhim to stay. But had she actually said such a thing out loud?

“You called me Lucien.”

Oh God. When had she started thinking of him as Lucien instead of Vaughan?

“You probably misheard. I expect I said Lucifer.”

He sent her a sardonic look, brows raised.

“If Ididask you to stay,” she said quickly, “then it must have been the effect of the medicine. It makes a person say all sorts of bizarre things.”

His eyes glittered in amusement, as if he knew she was hedging. “That’s true. I thought I was a horse at Waterloo, once, when I’d been on the laudanum. And I’d be happy to go to bed. You’re in it.”

Daisy glanced around, taking in the sumptuous velvet hangings and subtle hints of gold. The understated masculine elegance. She should have known. Even thebedclothes smelled like him. No wonder she’d wanted to bury herself in them.

A shiver of awareness ran through her. His bed. The intimacy of it made her head spin.

She placed the tray on the bedside table and pushed back the covers. “I’m sorry. I’ll—”

“You’ll stay right where you are,” he said firmly. “I’ll go and sleep in one of the guest rooms.”

Guilt at turfing him out of his bedroom warred with indignation that he’d put her there in the first place. She narrowed her eyes, determined not to be swayed by his apparent generosity.

He slanted her a sly, sideways smile. “Unless you’re feeling so glad to be alive that you want to celebrate in the time-honored way?”

Daisy bit back a snort. “You think such a heroic rescue deserves a physical reward?”

His eyes sparkled, and she appreciated his teasing attempt to make her feel better.

“There’s a lot to be said for a gratitude fuck. I know plenty of soldiers who swore by it, after a battle. It’s an excellent way to relieve stress. Might help stave off another one of those headaches.”

“Thank you, Dr. Vaughan,” she said drily, “but I think I’ll just try to sleep.”

“I’m only thinking of your health.” He shrugged. “Any time you feel the slightest twinge, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Don’t think I’m going to forgive you, just because you’ve taken care of me,” Daisy said, determined not to cave to his insidious charm. “You’ve made my life an absolute nightmare.”