The Sherbrooke Bride - Catherine Coulter [30]
He stood silent as a stone as her hands went from his shoulders to his chest, then to the length of his arms. He still didn’t move, didn’t say a word. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Please, tell me if you have pain.” Her fingertips skimmed lightly over his jaw and he jerked back just a bit. “Oh, forgive me, it’s tender, isn’t it? I’m sorry. It’s not broken, no, but he hit you very hard.”
Douglas shook his head, but otherwise he still didn’t move. For the life of him he couldn’t come up with one reason why he should move or say anything, for that matter. Her hands continued their journey over his body, feeling, lightly prodding. Finally, when she was about to drop to her knees and feel his legs, Douglas grabbed her wrists and pulled them together in front of her. He shook her to get her attention. He said very slowly, “I’m just fine. Leave me alone. Go feel him—your other husband.” He looked beyond her to Melissande, who was standing beside Tony, her long black hair an incredibly soft curtain that hid her face from him. Her soft hands were on Tony’s body.
Douglas stepped back from the second wife and looked toward the open doorway. He said quite calmly, “Hollis, please come in here.”
Hollis, not one ounce of dignity lighter, stepped into the den of chaos. He said very gently, “My lord, should you care to accompany me, the others may then attire themselves in more suitable garb. I will serve brandy in the drawing room and they may join us when they wish. Come now, my lord. That’s right. Come with me. All will be well.”
Douglas allowed himself to be led away. He felt oddly numb now, even though his scalp still throbbed and his ears were still ringing. Melissande had strong fingers and even stronger lungs. He felt he should be someone else; he didn’t want to be Douglas Sherbrooke because that poor fellow was an absurdity. He was a fool, a dunce, an ass, who’d nearly had all his hair pulled from his head and lost his bride. He heard himself say in a voice that didn’t resemble his at all, “But Hollis, that girl jumped on Tony. Why would she do that? He said he’d married her. I’ve never seen her before. Why would that little twit seek to rescue me?”
“Don’t concern yourself just now, my lord,” came Hollis’s soothing voice. “You must be pleased that she would try to protect you.”
“Protect me! Damnation, she looked ready to fight to the death.”
“Yes, my lord. It is fitting for her to do so. She is your wife, my lord, and your countess. Indeed, she has lived here for two days now and has gone along very well.”
Douglas said very firmly, “No, she isn’t my wife. That is quite impossible. I told you I’d never seen her before. Melissande is my wife. Her, I recognized. I will kill Tony for this.” Douglas paused in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder. “Do you think if I leave that girl here she will kill Tony for me?”
“Probably not, my lord. Her violence was only brought on by his attack on you. Lord Rathmore is now subdued and thus she has achieved her aims. Come along now. Everything will look a bit differently in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep in the same bed with that strange girl, Hollis. I’m a gentleman. Since you allowed her to come into my house, I can assume, can I not, that she isn’t a possible mistress? You say she’s been here two days? No, I cannot like it or accept it. Even though she tried to kill Tony, I can’t sleep with her.”
“No, my lord. I understand your reasoning perfectly. Your sentiments are most commendable. Her Ladyship will appreciate your motives. Come along now. You need to rest and allow your mental parts to reassemble themselves.”
With silence and coffee, not brandy, Douglas’s mental parts quickly came together again, but that coming together built such rage in him that he choked on the coffee.
“I will have to kill him, Hollis.”
“Perhaps not, my lord. You must listen