Betrayal. Georgina Devon

Bewilderment replaced the admiration in his eyes. ‘Oh, yes. I remember now.’

      Pippa lifted his head and tipped the rest of her concoction down his throat. ‘That will help you,’ she said as he sputtered.

      ‘Choke me, more like,’ he said with a faint smile that did dangerous things to her equilibrium.

      She let his head fall. ‘Some laudanum will ease the pain in your leg and help you sleep.’

      ‘You should take some for yourself, Pippen.’ His hazel eyes, full of compassion, held hers. ‘You look exhausted. I’d wager a monkey that since I’ve been here you have not gotten a decent night’s sleep.’

      His words were too close to the truth for comment. Instead, she held out the opium.

      ‘I need to go back to my own rooms,’ he said. ‘There is no reason you should have to give up your bed and your privacy for me.’

      He took the small glass from her. Pippa didn’t fight him, understanding that he needed to show he was not completely helpless. His hand shook, and he very nearly spilled the contents before getting it to his mouth. The small act exhausted him, and she grabbed the empty glass as his arm fell.

      ‘You will get stronger every day.’

      ‘Can I be transported to my rooms?’

      ‘Most probably. But it would not be comfortable.’

      His eyes darkened. ‘I can stand pain, Pippen. I am not a milksop to be constantly coddled. I am a man who has taken care of himself for many years.’

      ‘Tell me where your rooms are, and I’ll find out tomorrow if they are still available.’ Now it was her turn to frown. ‘But I’m not sure this is a good idea. You need someone to care for you.’

      He grinned. ‘You can check on me. It isn’t right that I have taken your bed. Where have you slept while I’ve been here?’

      Pippa nodded to a screen. ‘Behind that is a pallet. It’s big enough and comfortable enough.’

      Dev gave the tiny room a cursory look. A single window provided what cooling breeze there was. There was a plain oak wash-stand, a small stool and table. A single candle illuminated the area around the bed. Nothing was expensive, but it was utilitarian. The screen took up space, but he understood why Pippen would want it. No one, not even family, liked living this close together.

      ‘This room isn’t big enough to house my father’s hunting dogs, let alone two men,’ he said.

      ‘Your father must be very grand, indeed.’

      ‘The Duke of Rundell.’

      Pippa sat abruptly on the stool. ‘The Duke of Rundell?’

      Even she had heard of the most powerful duke in Britain. That meant Deverell was definitely an officer. He might know her twin. Excitement clenched her hands and made the breath catch in her throat.

      ‘Do you…do you know Philip LeClaire?’

      His brow furrowed. ‘No. I’ve heard of the LeClaire name, but that’s all.’ He gave her a narrowed look. ‘Why do you want to know?’

      She took a deep breath and plunged into her rehearsed lie. ‘He is a distant cousin and we were told he was dead, but I know better.’ For once the words came easily to her tongue. ‘I am searching for him because his grandfather—my great uncle—is ill and needs him home.’

      ‘Who told you he was dead?’

      ‘The Home Office sent a letter two months ago saying Philip was dead. But it isn’t true. I know it.’

      ‘Steady,’ Dev said.

      Pippa took a deep breath and just barely kept her voice from catching. ‘Earl LeClaire suffers from apoplexy. He had a seizure just six months ago, and the letter nearly brought on another. The doctor has ordered complete bed rest. I fear that if I cannot find my t—cousin soon, the Earl will have another. One that might be the end.’ Only sheer will power kept her from more tears. ‘I have to find Philip. I have to.’

      ‘I will help you,’ Dev promised. ‘When I am able to walk we will go see Wellington. If anyone knows where an officer is, and I assume an earl’s grandson is an officer, the Iron Duke will.’

      Gratitude overwhelmed Pippa. ‘Do you know Wellington?’

      A lopsided grin eased the lines of pain around his mouth. ‘Not really. But he’s a crony of my father’s and my commanding officer. I think he will see me.’

      ‘Thank you so much.’ This man would finally get her into the illustrious hero of Waterloo. The barely checked tears flowed. ‘You must think me a sissy to be crying like this.’

      ‘I think you a young man who has carried too much responsibility and needs a good night’s sleep. Something I doubt you’ll get on that pallet.’

      Pippa gave him a watery smile. ‘That’s where you are wrong. I am so tired I could sleep on a heap of rocks.’

      ‘Then go to bed,’ her patient said, ‘and let me get my rest.’

      Pippa went behind the screen and sprawled on the blankets. Excitement made her pulse speed. Deverell was going to do for her what she had been unable to accomplish. He would get her into Wellington. But tonight she had to put the hope aside and rest.

      The room was close and humid. The discomfort from the heat was intensified by the binding she wore around her breasts and the fact that she was still in her shirt and breeches. She had slept this way since Deverell had regained consciousness, but the lack of rest was finally wearing her down.

      This constant crying was not like her, and she realized that if she did not get some rest, she would not be able to keep going. It was a thought she could not bear. Too many people needed her healing skills.

      She had to undo her breasts and sleep in less restrictive clothing in the hopes of being cooler. But what about Deverell? Did she dare? What if he needed her in the night? She sighed. She could give him more laudanum.

      ‘Deverell,’ she whispered, ‘are you awake?’

      ‘Yes,’ he whispered back. ‘You need to sleep. I need to think.’

      ‘You are fighting the laudanum,’ she scolded gently. ‘I can give you more. You need rest.’

      He snorted. ‘You have already given me enough to fell an opium eater. No, thank you.’

      She heard him shift. ‘Do you need help getting comfortable?’

      ‘No, thank you again,’ he said. ‘Will you take a message to Wellington’s headquarters tomorrow? Tell him I’m alive and find out where Patrick is? Ask him to meet with us.’

      ‘Of course, if that will make you sleep tonight.’

      ‘It will certainly help.’

      ‘Consider it done.’

      Now perhaps he would sleep so she could put on her loose nightshirt and be able to rest herself. Within minutes she heard his light snoring, a sound that strangely enough did not bother her.

      She gave him several minutes more before acting. Freeing her breasts from their restraint was like taking a deep breath of fresh air. Comfort eased some of the ache in her back and legs as she laid down.

      She would feel better in the morning. Tomorrow she would be her old self.

      The next day, Pippa wondered how she ever thought she would be her old self while Dev still lived with her. Even taking off his bandage was an ordeal she dreaded nearly as much as he seemed to. Most patients faced anxiety when bandages were removed, and normally she dealt with their emotions better. But this was Dev. She was beginning to realize that when he was uncomfortable so was she. And for some reason she did not understand, he was very upset about this. There