Page 9 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge (Safely in Scotland #3)

H arlow’s eyes opened to a bright room. As sleep cleared, she was reminded where she was and why. Belle raised her head from where she lay next to Harlow. The dog was a faithful guardian, never leaving her side for very long.

Though Harlow knew from the scent of wet fur and saltwater, that the dog often spent the early morning by the ocean. Today, however, she didn’t.

As Harlow had done every day for the last week, she started the day by attempting to get out of bed and testing her weight on her injured ankle. Hoping this would be the day she was healed enough to get out of bed.

She was not certain how it had become so badly damaged from jumping into water, but Reese explained that it could have happened as she’d washed ashore. She recalled hurting her foot on the ship when she was hurrying toward the shadows. The flash of fire that was doused by fear and determination.

Harlow didn’t remember much after she’d jumped over the rails of the Zephyr.

Just the shocking chill of the water and the darkness.

She’d managed to find the oar she’d thrown overboard, and the small chunks of wood on the net had floated as well.

She’d kicked her feet pointing herself toward what looked like mountains in the distance. Land.

But it was too far and her head hurt to the point of dizziness. She remembered the panic she’d felt when her body failed her. Her legs were like leaden weights pulling her under, unable to kick anymore, while her mind seemed ready to accept defeat. She’d had no fight left.

Death would not be so bad. She recalled that final thought before she’d simply given up and rested her head on the smooth wood of the bobbing oar.

Realizing what might have happened kept her from complaining over her ankle now. It could have been so much worse.

Perspective , she thought the word yet again. She’d never really had reason for her perspective to shift so greatly before. But here she was in a strange man’s home, unchaperoned and grateful for only having an injured ankle after her ordeal.

She pulled the ill-fitting dressing gown tighter around her when there was a knock at the door.

“Is it any better today?” Reese asked as he entered the room, groomed and dressed for the day.

“It’s better each day, but still not fit for walking about,” she said, doing her best not to sound irritable.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said with a smile.

“A surprise?” She did love surprises, though she couldn’t know what he might have for her.

He opened the door and stepped aside as a number of footmen came in carrying a tub and buckets of hot water.

A bath sounded divine, but it was what Mrs. Garrison carried in her arms that made Harlow’s lips turn up in a smile.

“Is that a gown?”

“Aye,” Reese said. “And a new shift and some other things you needed. I ordered them a few days ago and picked them up this morning. I shall leave you ladies to things and when you’re dressed, I’ll see you down to the dining room for breakfast.”

She might have questioned how exactly she would get downstairs for breakfast, but the man simply gave a nod before he followed the footmen from the room, leaving her alone with the older woman.

“It’s good to see you up, even if you can’t get around so well yet. Here, lean on me and I’ll help you over to the bath.”

“I try not to complain about the inconvenience. Things could have been much worse if the earl hadn’t found me when he did.” She wanted to feel as grateful as she sounded.

“’Twas Belle who found ye.”

Harlow smiled. “I shall give her extra petting for her heroism.”

“She already thinks the world of ye.” The woman nodded toward the dog who had rarely left Harlow’s side since she’d arrived at Slains Castle.

“She is a good guardian. She’s always there when I wake up.”

“Aye. The earl is often watching over you as well.”

“When I’m sleeping, you mean?” she asked the woman who just blinked at her for a moment before answering.

“I would never speak of it.”

Harlow would have liked to point out that the housekeeper had indeed spoken of it already, but it was at that moment that Harlow’s body slipped into the warm, fragrant water with a groan of happiness.

Mrs. Garrison helped her wash her hair and then let her sit for a bit before coming back with linens to dry her off.

It wasn’t an easy thing, getting out of the tub, but they managed. And then the woman saw to dressing her, drying her hair, and putting it up.

“I imagine you feel more like yourself, though it’s been many years since I’ve done a lady’s hair. I’m afraid I don’t have the skills of your lady’s maid.”

“It is lovely. Thank you, Mrs. Garrison.” It was enough that her hair was clean and had been brushed and put up out of the way. After all these days of sitting around, just being upright was a blessing.

But she looked toward the door, assuming she was upstairs while the dining room was likely on the floor below. How was she to get down there? She looked to the housekeeper who was heading for the door.

“Yer welcome, my dear. Now excuse me, I must see to the morning meal,” she said before leaving the room.

Harlow sat in a nearby chair and was contemplating her next move when two swift knocks on the door were followed by its opening by a smiling earl.

“I hear you are ready to come downstairs.”

“Yes,” she answered, thinking he was going to offer his arm and the two of them would make their way to the breakfast room, hopefully before luncheon.

But instead he bent and lifted her into his arms.

“Put me down,” she said in some surprise. It was completely improper being held against his strong body as she was. Not that every minute since she’d arrived hadn’t also been improper, but this was beyond necessity.

“I certainly will,” he said, but instead of doing so he moved through the open door and down the hall. He continued down the stairs and into the room, setting her back on her feet—or rather foot—next to the chair directly to the right of the head of the table.

Belle had followed along but was detoured at the door by one of the footmen.

“There you are. I put you down. Just as ye asked,” Reese said, seeming pleased with himself.

Harlow might have contested his methods, but decided the smells of bacon and toast were more important at the moment. She slid into her seat allowing him to push her closer to the table.

Taking the seat next to her, he picked up his napkin and gave it a snap before settling it over his lap. She did the same only with less exuberance and they were served immediately.

“I thought after we eat you may enjoy a stroll through the garden. It’s a lovely day. Belle could use the exercise, and I daresay you could use some sun now that your megrim has finally relented.”

She agreed easily, focusing on the food. It had only been the last three days that her head had stopped making her nauseous. Her appetite had returned a little more each day, and this morning she was rather ravenous.

She managed to use her cutlery and take small ladylike bites as was proper, but only just so, for she was so famished she wanted to pick up the rasher with her hands and strip it bare, with her teeth.

It was only when her stomach was full that she recalled his plans for the day. A stroll through the garden? Did he think she was going to allow him to carry her through the entire garden?

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I believe a stroll through the garden is beyond me as of yet.”

“Not true.”

She shook her head. “I’ll not be carried all that way.”

“Nay, and I’d not make it to carry you all that way.”

She frowned, knowing there was an insult there, but not willing to pick at it. She was in no way dainty like the young misses in the ballrooms. She preferred to go riding and walking daily. She preferred to be in motion when possible. And she enjoyed cake immensely.

“I might manage with a cane,” she reasoned.

“I’ve sent for something better.” He nodded to one of the footmen who left the room only to return seconds later pushing a wheeled chair.

“Oh,” Harlow managed with a smile. “Where…?”

“I knew my good friend, Granton, had one for his dear sister who passed. I sent a gig to pick it up. It only arrived last evening.”

He assisted her into the chair and wheeled her out onto the terrace. From there he maneuvered a few stone steps to get them down to the path.

For a while the only sound was of the waves crashing and the wheels rolling over the crushed shell walkway. Though she couldn’t see the ocean, she could hear it. She was about to ask when Belle ran ahead chasing after something she spotted in the brush.

Harlow leaned her head back to allow the sun to warm her face. It was a lovely day.

The soft chuckle behind her distracted her.

“What is funny, my lord? Have you never seen a person enjoy being outside before?”

“I’ve only known women to hide away from the sun for fear of getting spots.”

Harlow smiled.

“If my mother was here, she would well remind me. But I believe it is too late anyway.” She pointed to her nose. “I already have them. All the years running with my brothers in the summer.”

He made a show of squinting at her face as if he couldn’t see the freckles across her nose.

“I don’t know why they’re not more accepted. I think them lovely. Proof of a life lived outside, enjoying the world around us.”

“Perhaps you can sway all of Society to think like you so I will be the height of fashion next Season.”

“Next Season when you search for a husband?” he mentioned.

She wished she could see his face, but his being behind her as he pushed the chair made it impossible to know his expression.

“Searching makes it sound almost diabolical. I surely would never trap anyone or even wish to persuade them into considering me. I just want to be open to the idea so I will not face the rest of my life alone. I feel as if I was given a second chance. I don’t wish to waste it.”