Love, Come to Me(7)

“Mr. Rayne,” she said crisply, “you’re not behaving like a gentleman.”

“Miss Caldwell,” he replied over his shoulder. “A long time ago I had high hopes of becoming a gentleman. I was raised to be one. Unfortunately, the events of the past few years forced me to make a choice . . . between remaining a gentleman or staying alive. War is the best way there is to weed out the gentlemen . . . very few of them manage to survive it. The scoundrels, on the other hand—”

“Oh, stop it!” she cried, staring at him in a mixture of horror and confusion, wondering if he was actually sincere. “There are some things you shouldn’t joke about.”

“I agree. However, I don’t think war is one of them. Or are you of the opinion that it should be remembered as a righteous undertaking? If so, you’re one of many. The winning side always remembers war fondly, and justifies it quite adeptly.”

She didn’t know what to think of him. Warily she followed him to the second-floor bathroom, taking care not to touch him, even accidentally. The oblong bathtub was shining clean, made of tinned iron. In the corner a water closet stood like a stalwart sentinel. How cunning and modern the little room was!

“I would like to take a bath,” Lucy said, eyeing the brass faucets that glistened at her invitingly.

“Not while you have a fever.”

“The house is warm, and I feel just f—”

“In five minutes you’ll be as weak as a baby, and I doubt you’d like it if I had to charge in here and save you from drowning . . . although I certainly wouldn’t mind rescuing you from your bath—”

“I’m not going to take a bath,” Lucy informed him shortly, closing the door in his face. What a big, shameless scamp he was. It was indecent of him to tease her as he just had, even more reprehensible than undressing her last night. After all, he had undressed her in order to keep her from getting pneumonia, but he teased her merely because . . . because he was a devil!

After relieving her more urgent needs, she splashed water on her face and smoothed her long, gnarled hair with her hands. It didn’t take long for her to discover that Heath had been right—she was exhausted. She opened the door, and he appeared in the hall immediately. Flashing blue eyes swept over her, taking in the sight of her small feet in the floppy socks, the lace trim of her pantalets, the ridiculous length of his shirt on her.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Lucy murmured. “I know I’m a sight.”

“Before I met you, I’d heard you were the prettiest girl in town. I had no idea you would be one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.”

Self-consciously she lowered her eyes, disliking his empty flattery. “You’re an outrageous liar.”

The comment would have frozen Daniel up, would have made him coldly quiet. Heath Rayne merely grinned. “I might stretch the truth about some things, yes. About you, no.” He followed her back to the bedroom with a long and indolent stride. She could feel his eyes on her back, a fact that hurried her pace considerably.

“I’m going to sleep now—” she began.

“Not until after I bring you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“There are some books by the bed that you might like to look through while I fix breakfast.”

There was no arguing with him. Resignedly Lucy got into bed, wrapping her arms about her middle and staring at him with round hazel eyes as he tucked the covers around her. “Thank you, but there’s no need for you to—”

“In some ways you remind me of the women I used to know in Virginia.” Heath paused after straightening the quilt, his turquoise eyes glowing with amusement. “Sweet. And maybe a little spoiled . . . and so very well-behaved. Are you really as prim and proper as you pretend to be, Lucy?”

She floundered for a response to his disrespectful question. Finding none, she settled for giving him a withering look. He chuckled and left the room, not at all bothered by her disdain.

The touch of fever was gone after a day’s sleep, but still Heath wouldn’t let her get out of bed. He brought soup and bread up to her for dinner. He sat in the chair by the bed while she ate, crossing his well-muscled legs in front of him and studying the scuffed surface of his blunt-toed boots. “You said you came back two days early?”

“Yes,” Lucy replied in between spoonfuls of delicious broth. “But Father doesn’t know that, and he won’t be expecting me until the day after tomorrow.”

“Good. The train won’t be running until then anyway. I’ll take you home and we’ll say that I was driving by as you were walking home from the depot—what about your luggage?”

“I lost my bag when . . . when I fell in. I’ll make up some story about leaving it on the train.” She sighed despondently. “Now it’s at the bottom of the river.”

“Don’t frown so much, honey. Why don’t they teach the women up here to smile more?”

“We’re raised to economize,” she said, and her eyes sparkled as she laughed. “We don’t waste our smiles on just anything.”

“Or anyone,” Heath added, staring at her intently. He seemed to be fascinated by the sight of her as she bent her attention once more to her dinner tray. “Why did you decide to come back early?”