The gossip was that Meg’s uncle had married her to Tipton to settle a gambling loss. Both were notorious gamblers, and the thought that Meg had been taken away unwillingly only added deeper angst. Max had never been sure of what had happened, but he could not reach her, despite his best efforts. With no contract signed, he had no chance of winning her back—if that had even been what had happened. He had heard nothing from her. The loss had decimated Max’s heart. He had sworn to never love again, but now he realized he had never stopped loving her. He left town shortly after she did, not willing or able to endure the pity of being jilted by the one person he loved more than life itself.
I can never let her know my feelings.
Max shook his head, hoping to pull himself from his misery. She is Tipton’s wife, yet she is here. Why? He pulled up one of his sister’s pink velvet slipper chairs and sat next to her. “Meg, why are you here now? What happened to you?” The dog opened his eyes and stared at him, never lifting his head. A low, guttural growl erupted.
“I will not hurt her.” Max reached tentatively and stroked the cotton-soft hair on the dog’s head. Shep allowed it and sniffed his hand. A slight wag of his tail replaced the growl. Good. He recognizes me. “Good boy.”
Meg’s quick wit and sense of adventure had been something he always enjoyed. They got along better together than his school friends, and he had continually enjoyed coming home to her. There was always one scrape or another, and he was always rescuing her—until he could not.
Female voices and the swishing of skirts drew his attention to the door as his mother entered.
“My dear, Cabot mentioned that you had brought Lady Tipton in from an accident. I quickly allowed my guests to leave and came to help.” She looked at the prone form in her daughter’s bed. “I had to see for myself.”
“Mother, thank you. I had not realized you would be here. I thought you were in London for the Season. I am sorry about your guests, but…” He glanced down at Meg. “I found her like this on my way home. She was in front of her parents’ gate. With the dog.” He nodded at Shep. “That is the dog Meg and I found shortly before…” He took a deep breath. “Shortly before we were to be wed.”
“I recall that incident. You could have both died saving the rascal.” She smiled at that dog. “I rarely allow dogs in my home, but he seems harmless. I will plan for a bath and some food for him.” She sniffed in Shep’s direction. “Immediately.”
“Lord Worsley, the doctor should be here in a few minutes. Cabot sent the footman for him straightaway.” Mrs. Andrews tapped him lightly on the arm.
“Son, I will take over. You change out of those wet clothes.” His mother placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed lightly.
Nodding, Max agreed. “I shall change and be right back.” His hand lightly grazed Maggie’s. “It would be best not to move her further until the doctor examines her. She has burns on her wrists, and I am most concerned there could be hidden injuries.”
“My God! She does.” His mother said, her tone one of alarm as she gently rolled Maggie’s wrist and leaned in to look more closely. “They appear to be rope burns. Who would have placed ropes on Maggie?”
Shep lifted his head and started to growl, but a sharp, reproachful look from his mother squelched that. Max swallowed a chuckle as he started to leave.
“It is Shep, is it not?” His mother’s inquiry stopped him.
“Yes. You recall that? I almost did not recognize him. He is a protective little chap.” He walked over and ruffled the dog’s head affectionately.
“I do.” She smiled. “I confess, these last three years, I have had a hard time thinking of her as Lady Tipton. She was to be my daughter, but she has not been part of society. I just can’t imagine…” Her voice trailed off as her hand gently moved a little wet and bloodied hair from Meg’s face. “Something drastic has happened. We shall help her all we can.”
Max paused a moment to regard the bedraggled woman he had just placed in his sister’s bed. Her eyes were shuttered closed. Thick dark lashes brushed the tops of her cheekbones in their resting state. Long blonde hair framed her face and covered her shoulders. Even wet, the color reminded him of sunshine and yellow roses. She was beautiful. His traitorous arms ached to hold her, to comfort her, but he would not.
She is married, he reminded himself. Max’s gaze held her sleeping form a moment longer before he again noticed the angry red abrasions on her wrists. His body stiffened in anger. Mother is right. I need time to regroup my thoughts.
“Thank you, Mother.” He stopped just before leaving the room and turned back. “The dog…” He paused and looked at the white bundle of fur curled up next to Maggie. “I must allow Shep to stay here with her. Please make sure the doctor tries to accommodate. She keeps reaching for him. I fear that whatever has transpired, Shep may be Meg’s only witness and her biggest comfort.”
Acknowledgments
There are always many people to thank when a book gets written. There are my friends who always cheer me on…Elizabeth Johns, who gave me the push I needed to get started writing, and Betty Phillips, Heather King, Myra Platt, Lauren Smith, and Amanda Mariel, who help in immeasurable ways.
A great big thank you goes to my team of readers who spent time and gave up evenings to help me smooth out the rough edges. Thank you, Theresa, Heather, Pat, and Lori! Your help is always greatly appreciated.
And last but never least, my own hero—my husband and best friend,
