Kristina O'Grady - Damsel In Distress?

They looked at each other for a moment. “Mrs Barrett,” they said at the same time.

It would be just like her to spread something like this. Mrs Barrett lived next door and she had a lot to do with the reason Philip’s reputation was what it was. She loved to put her own twist on any gossip she could lay her hands on and if she had indeed been up early enough to see Philip bring Harriet into the house, she wouldn’t have been able to keep such a juicy gem to herself.

“If anyone is looking for Harriet, it won’t take them long to find her now. I will call on Lord Harrison this morning and see what kind of measures we should put in place. In the meantime call for Dr Brown to see if she can be moved and ask Murdock to stand guard outside her room. No one in their right mind would try to get past that brute.”

“Are you sure he’s the best? He’s so gentle.”

“Be that as it may, he looks the part. I for one wouldn’t want to meet a man that looks like him in a dark alley.” Philip slumped into a chair. “No, anyone that comes looking for Harriet will think twice about trying to get past him.”

***

When Harriet next opened her eyes she was alone in her room. A quick glance at the chair showed her a rumpled blanket and discarded pillow, but no Lord Eaglestone. More’s the pity. She wanted to know if she’d imagined how good looking he was.

The sheets crinkled as she shimmied her way closer to the edge of the bed. The coolness of the sheets away from the centre of the bed was refreshing on her heated skin. The windows were no longer open and she longed to once more feel the cool breeze she had enjoyed earlier. The water on the table beckoned her. But even teetering on the very edge of the bed she was unable to reach the pitcher to pour herself a glass.

She moaned in frustration. All she wanted was a drink. There was a bell resting on the table next to the water, presumably so she could ring for assistance. A fat lot of good it did her though, as she was unable to reach the bell either.

Harriet gritted her teeth and wiggled into a sitting position. Her head swam and she grasped the headboard to stop herself from tumbling onto the floor. Her body couldn’t take another fall. She stared at the pitcher of water and willed it closer, but no such luck, it stubbornly stayed where it was. She was going to have to get it herself.

She took a deep breath, released the headboard and grabbed the bed post closest to her while swinging her feet over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. She swayed dangerously, black spots flashing in front of her eyes and bile rising up her throat. She forced her eyes from the red swirling carpet on the floor back up to the pitcher. Thankfully the bile remained down where it should be and her surroundings stopped moving of their own accord. Gradually the black spots faded and her vision cleared.

Where earlier she was wishing for a breeze through the window, now she was glad they remained closed. Her body was drenched in a cold sweat and she shivered uncontrollably and she still didn’t have the water. If anything she was even more desperate to feel moisture on her tongue than before. Powerless to stop the shaking, she reached for the pitcher anyway.

She almost knocked it over twice but somehow she managed to pour some water into the glass on the table. Her whole arm shook with the effort and by the time she finally brought the glass to her lips, she was almost too exhausted to drink any of it.

The tepid water unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth and relieved her dry lips. When she lowered to glass, she was amazed to find it empty. She reached over to place it back on the table but she misjudged the distance and set it on the edge of the table. Her reactions were too slow to catch it before it fell. It hit the drawer handle on the way down and exploded into thousands of tiny fragments of crystal, one of which lodged itself in her shin. She watched as a drop of blood trickled down her leg and onto the priceless carpet at her feet.

Slowly, slowly she moved her legs back up onto the bed and reached down to pluck the shard loose. It stung as she pulled it out and started to bleed again, but she was too tired to stem the flow. Placing the shard on the table she wiggled back down the bed until she was lying flat once more. Seconds later she was fast asleep.

Chapter 10

Philip stopped as soon as he walked into the room.

Blood.

The smell of it greeted him at the door and instantly he was transported back to that awful night in the park. He rushed to her bed but soft snores came from her lips and she was unscathed. He stood in silence and watched her sleeping. The gentle rise and fall of her chest soothed him. He moved to the other side of the bed and pulled the all-too familiar chair closer to the bed and sat down.

Something sharp stabbed him in his stocking foot. It was only then that he noticed the bloody shard of glass lying on the table. Looking down, a thousand pieces of crystal twinkled on the floor in the late afternoon light. A smear of red across the sheets caught his attention and he stripped the cover back.

He didn’t know she slept naked.

Air left his lungs in a whoosh as the expanse of skin greeted his eyes. His hands itched to touch its smoothness but with a sigh he lowered the sheet back over her, the vision still burned upon his eyes. He grabbed the small bell standing on the table and shook it savagely. The ringing brought a maid running but it also woke Harriet. He cursed his stupidity and slumped back into the chair.

“Miss Harriet is injured and there is glass littering this floor. Where were you?” he asked, the anger rising up inside him. “You should have been here with her. She should not be left alone.” He said everything to the maid that he should have been saying to himself.

“Philip,” Harriet spoke softly and placed a hand on his knee. “It’s all right. It’s my fault there is glass everywhere. I’m terribly sorry you cut yourself.”

He looked at her pale face and felt like an even bigger ass. “That’s just it, Harriet, you shouldn’t have been left alone. Why didn’t you ring the bell if you wanted a glass of water?”

“I couldn’t reach it.” Temper flared in her eyes and he was pleased she wasn’t as much an invalid as she looked.

Philip gritted his teeth until he was sure he heard them crack. “My point exactly.”

A smile graced her lips warming his heart. Unable to take his eyes off her, Philip apologised to the maid for his outburst and propped his feet on the bed so the maid could remove the glass from the carpet.

“Sir?” ventured the maid after a few moments down on her knees.

“Yes?” He still hadn’t stopped looking at Harriet.

“I’m sorry sir, but you gonna have to move, sir, I can’t reach the rest.”

He looked at the floor and saw the crystal still sparkling in the light, although not nearly as much as before. He switched his gaze to the maid. Her hands were covered in small cuts, blood oozing from the tips of her fingers. He jerked to his feet, resulting in his pushing the shard of crystal that was still in his foot, further into his skin.

“Good Lord, girl, what are you doing?”

“Picking up the glass, sir, like you said.”

Guilt swamped him. She was right, he had been too preoccupied by Harriet to pay any attention to the maid, but he never intended for her to hurt herself, especially not for him. To help clear his conscience he helped her to her feet.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I assumed you would fetch yourself some gloves before you started, and I never intended you to be harmed. Take yourself down to the kitchen and have Cook look after your hands. That glass needs to be removed. Take the rest of the day off and tomorrow as well. Lord knows you won’t be much use with hands cut up like that. Off you go now.”