All About Seduction(29)

“In that case, I shall take my time.” That was a lie. He needed to be out of here as soon as he could manage it. He had an appointment to keep in the city. And nothing was going to stop him from getting there, not even his futile hope of something happening between her and him.

Caroline wasn’t expecting Jack to have a sense of humor, not on the day he’d suffered a terrible break in his leg. Nor had she expected to see to his personal needs, but it wasn’t as if Mr. Broadhurst had ever spared her. After the water closets were installed, she’d banned chamber pots.

Mr. Broadhurst might grumble that he had to traipse down the hall at night, but at least she no longer had to witness him voiding.

She drew in a deep breath and looked over Jack’s shoulder to meet his eyes in the small mirror. His chin dipped and his gaze slid away. Having to rely on a woman for help with a bodily need had undoubtedly upset him. The situation had the unreal feel of an impossible situation. Never in a thousand years would she have expected to be helping a man from the mill use the necessary, and not just any man, but Jack.

“Where does the water come from?” Jack turned the faucet off and then back on as if marveling at running water. He was probably just trying to distract them from the reason they were in the water closet.

“A cistern on the roof.” She turned off the water and handed him the towel, all without meeting his eyes. Of course she still stood behind him, her arms against his sides just in case he pitched sideways again.

“Rainwater?” he questioned, but the words seemed a little forced, and he was panting hard.

“The servants pump the tank full with well water if the rain isn’t enough.”

He would not have experienced any of the modern conveniences either in the mill or in his home. Running water was hardly a new thing, and in places like London common. Not for the first time, she wondered how mean the laborers’ lives were. They worked ten to twelve hour days, six days a week. They lived in two-room cottages at best. Luxuries like books, running water, or travel were out of their reach. He had cast her a skeptical look when she’d asked if he’d read A Tale of Two Cities.

Her mother made a point to visit all the tenants’ homes, but it was different when the villagers were her husband’s employees. She really didn’t know much about how the millworkers lived inside their small houses, and they reacted to her as if she were a spy or intruder when she’d made a few halfhearted efforts to look in on them.

If she had better social skills, she might have persisted, but she’d never been as outgoing as Sarah or Amelia. Even Robert had grown more sociable since inheriting the viscountcy and taking his seat in Parliament.

“Shall we get you back to bed?”

Jack leaned against the sink. “Yes.”

She eased beside him, as much as the tiny space would allow. She pulled his arm across her shoulders. His warm fingers slid across her bare skin and a shudder traveled down her spine. But she wouldn’t think too much about his touch because he needed her help right now.

She maneuvered Jack through the doorway and took a couple of small steps toward the breakfast room. He quivered as if the exertion was too much for him. She pulled him tighter against her side. If he collapsed, she might not be able to prevent a fall. His nightshirt was damp and the gaslight reflected off a sheen of perspiration on his face.

Mrs. Burns opened the baize-covered door leading to the bowels of the house. A voluminous wrapper enfolded her from head to toe, and a sleeping cap covered her gray curls. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t hear the bell. It goes to the kitchen and the scullery maid heard it but wasn’t sure if she should wake me.”

“If you could help me get Mr. Applegate back to bed,” Caroline said.

“Jack,” he whispered into her ear.

A frisson ran down her spine. It was of course the response to the puff of air in such a sensitive organ. Not that she liked his breath in her ear.

“Yes, of course, ma’am,” said the housekeeper, crossing the expanse of the hall.

Caroline hoped the older woman hadn’t noted her shiver. She cast a glance toward Jack. He had. He was regarding her with pain-laced curiosity. Heat stole up her cheeks. He would most likely think her a complete ninny.

Her arm around him made her notice he was a fit man. Would relations be as unpleasant with a man like Jack?

Mrs. Burns took Jack’s other arm, and between the two of them they got him back to the bed.

He collapsed against the sheets, his brow knit with pain. His hand slid across Caroline’s shoulders, and she was left with the oddest sensation that he meant it as a tender sort of touch. Her heart hammered. Was he interested in her that way?