“I’m fine.”
“You look fine.” Her brown eyes swept over him appreciatively. He would have reciprocated if he didn’t see the dark shadows under her eyes. And...was that blood? He grabbed her arm. “You’re bleeding.”
“Head wound.” She shrugged. “Those always bleed so much.” She pressed a handkerchief to her forehead and stared at it when it came away crimson.
“You need to lie down.”
“That’s the plan,” she said. “Now, if I could just find my room.”
Duncan caught her just as her legs buckled and lifted her.
“Put me down.”
“You’re about to fall over. Lord John should have never kept you so long.”
“To be fair,” she said when he set her in a chair at the small table that still bore the crumbs of his dinner. “It was his wife who kept demanding answers. She was angry the assassin had come so close and terrified when she saw the men who’d been with him on the boat and taken into custody. He’ll find the door to her chamber locked for a week or more, I think.”
“Let’s get these boots off,” he said, bending to pull at them. He couldn’t seem to make them budge and remembered that servants usually tried from the other angle. He stepped between her legs, faced the boot, and pulled. The boot came free.
“Well, this is quite the view,” she said to his backside.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he said, starting on her other boot.
“Right,” she said. “Too tired and sore for ideas anyway. Help me with this coat, and I’ll just lie down on your rug for a few minutes.’
“You’re not sleeping on my rug.” He turned back to her and pulled her up so he could work off the coat. She hissed in a breath as he tugged it off her shoulders. Duncan froze. “Just how badly are you hurt?” he asked.
“A few bruises,” she said. But when he took his hand away from her sleeve, it came away red.
“This is more than bruises.” He tugged her tattered shirt out of the waistband of the ridiculous breeches she wore and started unbuttoning it. She swiped at his hands ineffectively.
“Just leave it.”
But he had it unfastened now and pulled it over her head. He’d forgotten the cuffs, of course, so he had to work those loose, but once it was off, he shook his head. She had a cut on her arm, not deep and only bleeding a little. But her shoulders and her back were covered in small cuts and bruises.
Her short corset was red with blood, and he yanked at the front laces to free her from it. It fell away, and she didn’t even try to hide her nudity. Instead, she looked down and pressed a hand to her rib. “I probably need to bind my ribs.”
Duncan forced his gaze to slide to her breasts and then lower. There was a sickly yellow and green mark there. He pressed it lightly and she winced. “Cracked or broken,” he said. “I’ll make you a binding. Where else are you hurt?”
“My arse is probably bruised. I landed on it half a dozen times, but there’s nothing serious.” She picked a leaf out of her hair.
Duncan shook his head. “Bath for you. Once we have all the blood washed off, I can see if you need stitches or just bandaging.” He’d already had a bath, and the servants had come to remove the tub. Now he shooed her behind the Chinese screen on one side of the room and called for the tub back along with warm water.
A quarter hour later, the tub steamed, and he closed the door to the bed chamber. “Lucy, do you want me to step outside?”
No answer.
“Lucy?” Duncan walked to the Chinese screen and peered behind it. She was leaning against the wall, naked, eyes closed. Like any good agent, she could sleep anywhere, anytime.
“Lucy,” he said, hating to wake her. “The bath is ready.”
Her eyes opened, hazy and dark. “The bath?”
“Come on.” He took her wrist lightly as he could see it too was bruised. She seemed to have a dozen bruises on her body, now that he could see it. He led her to the bath. Any thought of giving her privacy fled. He had to help her climb into the tub and then her head lolled on the side. Duncan picked up the soap and a cloth to wash her back and her arms. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about her breasts but when he looked at her, her head against the edge of the tub, she was smiling.
“And you could do this on your own,” he said. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to enjoy this. But yes, I can take it from here.” She took the cloth and Duncan moved away, turning his back to her, and willing his cock to behave. He’d managed to control his desire thus far. Bruised and injured women didn’t arouse him, but just now, Lucy had looked at him in a way he couldn’t misinterpret.
