Chapter 23
When Rebecca woke the following day, she didn’t open her eyes immediately, content as she was to remain snuggled up against Daniel’s warm body. But then he groaned, and the memory of everything that had happened the night before came rushing back to her. She sat up, realizing to her shock and dismay that she was still fully dressed. When had she gotten into bed? She couldn’t recall and decided that she must have been well and truly fatigued.
Brushing some strands of hair away from her eyes, she looked down at Daniel. His eyes were still closed but he was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling more visibly than it had last night. She wondered why he’d groaned. Was he in pain, even in his sleep? She looked toward the bottle of laudanum still on the dresser and wondered if she should give him some more. He had to be in pain after everything he’d been through. She had been when she’d been shot, and her wound hadn’t been nearly as bad as his.
On the other hand, what if she woke him as she tried to administer it? He needed rest, the doctor had said. Caught with indecision, she just sat there watching him, submitting his every feature to memory and noticing the little things that she hadn’t seen before, like the tiniest scar on the left side of his jaw and the fact that his hair wasn’t dark brown throughout but streaked with occasional strands of auburn. She instinctively reached out to touch it but caught herself and stopped. Leave him be, she reminded herself. There would be plenty of time for affection later. For now, the best thing she could do for him was give him time to recover.
Two hours later, Daniel still hadn’t woken, and Rebecca began to grow restless. She tried to read from a book she found in the drawer of her bedside table but was completely unable to concentrate. After rereading the same paragraph an infinite number of times, she picked a little at the remainders of last night’s pudding, then crossed to the window and looked out, but since the bedroom faced a side street, there was very little going on out there, and she quickly turned away with a sigh and started to pace.
Perhaps she ought to ring for Molly and Laura to come and clear away the trays and towels that occupied all available surfaces so the room wouldn’t seem so cluttered, but the disturbance might wake Daniel, so she decided against it. But when another hour passed and Daniel still showed no sign of waking up anytime soon, Rebecca knew she had to do something or she’d start clawing at the walls. So she rang for Laura, quietly nudged the bedroom door open and waited for her to appear.
“Would you please bring me my watercolors,” she whispered as soon as Laura arrived, “and a cup of tea?”
Her request was met with quick efficiency, and she was soon able to sink back into one of the armchairs in the room and apply herself to her art, her model holding a perfect pose as she captured his features on paper. She’d just started on his arm, which was stretched out along the length of his side, when a movement caught the corner of her eye. Had he just blinked? She set her sketchbook aside and got up so she could take a closer look. The corner of his mouth twitched, there was a slight murmur and then . . . very slowly, Daniel opened his eyes.
Rebecca almost flung herself on top of him in her excitement, stopping herself just in time to reflect that doing so would probably not be the best idea and that Daniel would likely scold her for causing him further pain. So instead she just took his hand in hers, creating a small space next to him where she could sit. “Welcome back,” she said, smiling down at him with all the love she felt in her heart, as well as a large dose of relief. “How are you feeling?”
He blinked and grimaced. “Like hell,” he muttered, and then just one word. “Water.”
Springing to her feet, Rebecca rushed to the bellpull and rang for someone to fetch Daniel some water, berating herself for her thoughtlessness. Of course he’d be thirsty when he came to, and yet she’d only thought of tea for herself.
When the matter had been seen to and Molly and Laura had straightened the room a bit with the promise of returning soon with some breakfast, Rebecca resumed her seat next to Daniel and quietly asked the one question that had plagued her since he’d returned home. “Who would do this to you?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. She offered him some laudanum, which he accepted. “Do you remember what happened?” she then asked, desperate for an explanation.
He swallowed, took a moment and then pierced her with his dark brown eyes. “It was Grover.”
Rebecca sat back in disbelief. “Grover did this?”
Eyes closed once again, Daniel nodded. “He must have followed me—I’m not sure for how long—but when I left the Mayfair Chronicle I was . . . not in the best mood.”
Rebecca nodded. She understood what selling the phaeton had meant for him: it was like stripping him of his pride.
“So,” he continued, “I decided to take a walk. My thoughts must have been elsewhere, because before I knew it, I’d ventured almost all the way to Cheapside.”
Rebecca wasn’t sure how far that was exactly, but from the way Daniel said it, she gathered that it wasn’t close.
“It was getting dark by then, and I decided to find a hackney to take me home.” He paused, frowned. “There was nobody else about in the street I was in, and then suddenly someone called my name. I turned around and was surprised to see Grover walking toward me with great determination. With Starkly’s warning in mind, I grew increasingly apprehensive about his intentions. He’s an old man though, and he was alone. I didn’t think he posed a threat.” Daniel closed his eyes momentarily before saying, “But I was wrong. Without saying a word, he just continued toward me, and then . . . well, then he shot me.”
“What?” Rebecca could scarecely believe that this was how it had happened. It seemed so cold and . . . and heartless. “Just like that, without any warning?”
Daniel winced. “You should have seen the gleam in his eyes before he pulled the trigger, Becky. The man is a raving lunatic. Thankfully, he’s also a dreadful shot who had no desire to linger long enough to ensure that he’d actually succeeded in killing me.” He scoffed. “I suspect he might have been worried about his reputation.”
Rebecca found her lips trembling with unexpected mirth. Trust Daniel to make light of such a serious situation. “But surely there are witnesses,” she said. “Someone must have seen what happened, in which case Grover ought to face charges for attempted murder. Surely London must have constables who can investigate and—”
“It will be my word against his, Becky. It was dark in a deserted alleyway. There was no one else around, and he is a duke, while I . . . well, I’m sure there are many who have wondered why I haven’t gotten myself shot any sooner than I did.”
“Daniel! That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“It’s the truth,” he muttered, his eyes meeting hers. “What Grover and the Griftons did or tried to do to you was wrong, but to steal you away at your engagement ball, to humiliate a duke like that and to marry you in haste the way I did was to ask for trouble. I believe it put Grover over the edge.”
“I don’t—”
He silenced her by pressing a finger to her lips. For a long moment he just lay there, staring back at her in silence, and she couldn’t help but notice how his eyes brightened as he looked back at her. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and filled, she realized, with wonder. “I want you to know that I would do it all again,” he said, “just to be with you.”
Rebecca’s stomach tightened, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. “Even getting shot?” she whispered.
“Even that.”
Her palms grew clammy and her breath was a little bit shaky when she exhaled. She dared not ask him why he felt that way because it would only sound as if she was trying to get him to say something he might not be ready to say. Perhaps it was more than he felt even, though he surely cared for her if he was willing to go through so much trouble for her. But love? She knew she loved him and she wanted to say so, but if she did so now, then wouldn’t it seem as if she expected him to say it in return? No, she had to tell him—she’d resolved to do so, and she wouldn’t allow another moment to pass without sharing what was in her heart.
“I love you,” she said, and then she blinked, realizing that he’d spoken at the exact same time as her, his words mirroring her own. “Did you just say . . . I mean, it sounded like you—”
“I love you, Becky,” he repeated, and reaching for her hand, he clasped it with his own before bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
Rebecca was speechless. Was it true? Did he really love her? She felt her body flood with warmth as she stared back into his eyes, eyes that were usually filled with laughter and mischief but were now filled with something else entirely—an honest vulnerability that spoke to her heart. “I . . .” she began, not sure of what she would say or of what she could say to express how much his declaration meant to her.
“I know,” he murmured, nuzzling her hand with his cheek. “You don’t have to say anything else. I know exactly how you feel.” And then he smiled that wonderful smile she’d come to adore, and the only thing she could think to do was kiss him, so she did. She kissed him with all the love and passion she felt for him until they were both breathless.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “You must be in pain.”
“Just a little,” he said. Rebecca looked at him dubiously, at which he sighed. “Very well, it hurts like blazes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy you taking advantage of my immobile state.” His smile widened to a cheeky grin. “As you can see, I’m still in working order.”
Rebecca followed his line of vision until, “Oh! I say . . . er . . . well then.”
Her befuddled state just made him laugh even more until he groaned and winced in pain. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I think it might be best if I refrain from laughing, though I must say that you should have seen your face just now. It was precious.”
Rebecca’s cheeks still felt hot. Trust Daniel to make her blush even when he’d been shot and confined to his bed. He was incorrigible, really. “May I take a look at the wound?” she asked. “I’d like to ensure that the stitches are holding and that there’s no sign of infection.”
Giving her a nod of approval, Daniel allowed Rebecca to tend to him. With gentle fingers she removed the linen strips that the doctor had wrapped around his abdomen to keep the compress in place. Peeling away the wad of cotton, she breathed a sigh of relief. His flesh looked a little pink around the wound, but other than that, it looked healthy and clean. She replaced the used wad of cotton with a clean one, then bound him back up. “I’ll call Hawkins so he can help you tend to your toilette,” she said, placing a tender kiss against his forehead, “and then we’ll have something to eat. I’m sure Molly will be up any moment with that tray.”