“But that could take days. I don’t want to wait for days.”
Patrick patted her hand, which was still very warm from her fever. “You will just have to. As much as it pleases me to know you find me so irresistible, I am not taking any chances with your health.”
Linley sighed. She knew he was right. She was in no condition for lovemaking. “Then I suppose I could settle for a foot rub. All this walking and hiking has them feeling very sore lately.”
“I don’t know how to rub anyone’s feet.”
Refusing to listen to excuses, she wiggled her toes out from underneath the blankets. Patrick shifted on the bed, taking a little foot into his hands. He pressed his thumbs into the calloused underside while he worked the soft top with his fingers. “Like this?” he asked.
She nodded. “You’re doing just fine.”
As he massaged her foot, Patrick thought back to when he first met her, back to the beach in Morocco when she took off her shoes and buried her toes in the warm sand. He thought she had beautiful feet then. He never imagined he would be holding them in his hands only a few months later. And he remembered the night he took her to Claridge’s and she wore those red shoes. Now every woman in London wanted to show off her ankles like the Infanta de Nova.
Patrick smiled. Finchdale would never forgive him for that little trick. Especially not after the man bragged to all of society he’d danced the Castle Walk with a Spanish princess. What was that ridiculous song they danced to? Oh yes, Steamboat Bill.
He hummed a few bars as he worked his way up and down her feet. It took Linley a moment to recognize the song, but when she did, she burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe you remembered that song.”
“Why not? I stood there and gritted my teeth the entire time Finchdale had you in his arms.”
She covered her face with her hands, still laughing. “I thought I would die! He has to be the worst dancer I’ve ever seen. And to parade me around like that in front of everyone!”
“You should’ve heard how he reacted once he learned you were not an Infanta. The word around the club was that he cried.”
“He must have been very disappointed to find out I was plain old Linley Talbot-Martin,” she said, grinning. “I still cannot believe you invented such a lie.”
Patrick shrugged.
“Don’t forget to go in between the toes,” Linley said, pointing to her feet. “That is the best part.”
He did as he was told, resuming his humming of Steamboat Bill and slipping his fingers between each of her little toes. It was a very intimate gesture, rubbing someone’s feet. No wonder he’d never done it before.
Linley relaxed as he moved from one foot to the other and, before long, she fell asleep. Her breathing was soft and slow. Patrick carefully eased her foot down onto the bed and tucked the blankets around it. He watched to make sure she didn’t wake back up, and when he was certain she was miles away from him, he slipped out of her bedroom.
“Awfully cozy picture,” a voice said through the shadows of the corridor. “You and my daughter. Rubbing her feet. You do have a way with women, Lord Kyre.”
“Bedford, I—”
Linley’s father waved his hand. “No, no. There is nothing you can say to explain what I just saw. You’ve become very close to my daughter these last few weeks. I hear you are even giving her special talks. Answering whatever questions she might have…”
Patrick jammed his fists into his pockets, ready for a stern lecture from the old man.
“She knows absolutely nothing about men.”
“I don’t want her to know about men,” he said. “I want her to know about me.”
Sir Bedford took a step back, stunned. “What’s your game, Kyre?”
“I should think it obvious by now.”
“You have feelings for her.”
Patrick shifted from one foot to another, looked down at his boots, and then back up at Linley’s father. “Yes, I do.”
“How long will they last, eh?” Sir Bedford asked. “What will happen when this is over and you go back to wherever it is you go? Do you think she will follow you? I don’t. Nothing—not even love—could tear Linley away from me. This is her passion. Not you. You are a fleeting infatuation. A girlish romance.”
“Bedford, I’ve never tried to come between you and Linley. I would never dream of it,” he said. “Even in London, when she was torn between staying with me or leaving with you, I never pushed her. Never.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Linley and myself. She wanted to remain in London with me, but she couldn’t bear to abandon you and your work.” Patrick leaned back against the wall, studying the old man’s face. “I let her go. I did what I felt, at that time, was best for her.”
“And now?”
“Now I realize how foolish I was,” he said.