Chapter Sixteen
AFTER ALFREDA HELPED BROOKE out of her traveling garb and into a simple day dress, the maid immediately went off to her room in the servants’ wing to get the herbs they needed for Dominic.
Brooke hadn’t expected her first day at Rothdale to be so trying and fraught with unpleasantness, surprises, and anger. She supposed there were a few bright spots, though. The greenhouse was not being used, so she and Alfreda could cultivate their herb garden there. She had a pretty bedroom and no one had yet come to tell her to get out of it. She walked over to a window. She found the views of the lovely park and the two horse pastures soothing. Oh, and she’d gotten in the wolf’s door. All in all, she’d made her escape from her unloving family. She really ought to keep that in mind and do everything possible to get along with Dominic Wolfe, at least until he and she could come to some sort of special marriage arrangement.
She turned away from the window when Alfreda returned and handed Brooke two colored pouches and a small potion bottle. “The herbs in the red pouch will draw out the poisons that are causing the inflammation. Mix them with water and make a paste, and apply it to the wound three times a day until the redness is gone. Then use the herbs in the blue pouch. They will make the wound close more quickly and form a scab. The potion will help him to sleep more soundly, which will also aid the healing, but you might want to explain that to him before you offer it.” Then Alfreda added stubbornly, “I’m never going back in that room. I don’t care if he’s taking his last few breaths.”
Brooke nodded. She didn’t blame Alfreda for feeling that way. She also knew Alfreda didn’t mean what she’d said. The maid wouldn’t ignore someone close to dying, no matter how she felt about the person. But the wolf probably wouldn’t die now, so Alfreda was no longer obliged to deal with him.
Brooke concurred, “I’m not going back in there either. We’ve done more’n enough for him when we shouldn’t have helped him a’tall.”
Alfreda tsked, giving Brooke a look of disapproval before reminding her, “We settled on a plan. The more you help him, the more his heart will open to you. When he’s better, he will remember what you did for him and start to love you.”
Brooke sighed. “Very well.”
“Be pleasant.”
“I doubt that’s possible.”
“Be soothing,”
“I know that’s not possible.”
“Then just be yourself.”
Brooke laughed. “I think I’ve been doing just that!”
She knew Alfreda had given her sound advice so she decided to at least try a combination of all three. If she didn’t lose her temper again. If she could ignore his surliness.
Gabriel answered Brooke’s knock and let her into Dominic’s room, even though he whispered, “He’s sleeping.”
“No, I’m not” came from the bed.
He had keen hearing like a wolf—that was an unnerving thought. But approaching that bed again was even more unnerving because his long, muscular bare leg was still on top of the sheet, not beneath it.
She tsked when she saw that the leeches were back on his leg.
He admitted in a somewhat normal tone, “I assumed you were done helping me.”
“Did you? You were half-correct.” She set the medicine on his nightstand. “These leeches will have to come off. The sooner I apply the salve, the sooner you will start to heal.”
“A servant can do that.”
“A servant will not know how.”
“Your maid does—”
“You’ve offended her. She won’t be back.”
“She’s offended—”
“I was present. I know exactly who got offended. But as your soon-to-be-wife, it’s my duty to assist you, and it is your duty to be grateful for it.”
He stared at her incredulously. “You overstep. And you aren’t even correct. I have no duty to you.”
“Well, I will still honor my duty to you.”
She removed the leeches carefully, picked up the red pouch, and went to find water. She walked through the sitting room, which contained a few reading chairs that matched the one next to the wolf’s bed, and a small dining table, to the two other rooms in the suite, which she’d caught a glimpse of when she’d stormed out of here earlier. She saw the valet in one of them folding clothes. She guessed the other was the bathing room.
She was surprised to find a second fireplace inside the bathing room. It wasn’t as grand and ornamental as the one that heated the main room of the viscount’s suite, but it certainly was useful for warming up the room in cold weather and for heating water for baths. A metal bucket of water currently hung over a low fire. And what a tub! A long porcelain tub that had to have been specially made for his size dominated the room. The wolf certainly liked his luxuries.
She went over to a large cabinet with glass doors that contained stacks of towels and an assortment of items, including a supply of clean shaving cups.
She grabbed one and poured water from a pitcher in it, just a tiny bit, then sprinkled some of the powdered herbs in to make the paste. She stirred it with a clean spoon she found in the cabinet and washed her hands.
When she returned to the main room, the wolf was eyeing her and the cup in her hand suspiciously.
“This will only sting for a moment, then you won’t notice it.” She’d dipped her finger in the paste so she could dab it on his wound.
He grabbed her wrist when she leaned toward him, demanding, “Only sting? If it does worse, you may not like the consequences.”
“How much more unpleasant can you be?” she countered, then reprimanded herself. She had to stop reacting to his surliness. “You were shot. Nothing I do will equal the pain of that.”
He let go of her wrist without further comment. Without the leeches on his thigh distracting her, she was suddenly too aware of his body, all of it, and how close she was to such a big, strapping handsome man—fully naked under that sheet. And his wound was so close to his . . .
Her cheeks suddenly too hot, she tried not to think about where she was touching him and quickly applied the salve, saying, “Perhaps I’ll have dinner here with you tonight?” Without waiting for his permission, she glanced up and gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, that’s a splendid idea, since I will need to apply the salve again come evening. We may even see some improvement by then.” And less churlishness, she added hopefully to herself.
“That soon?”
“It may only be minimal, but, yes, I do expect there will be a little less inflammation and perhaps your fever will go down. We shall hope.”
He merely grunted, so she went to wash her hands. When she returned, his eyes were closed. Had he fallen asleep that quickly? Or was this his way of dismissing her? Likely the latter, she decided, but she left the room quietly anyway.