That’s fine with me, but it’s not going to stop that drip of blood that’s about to hit your waistband.”
He looked down. Blast it, she was right. He dashed the offending drip away, leaving a smear of blood to mat the curls of hair on his abdomen.
“Come on. Don’t be such a hard ass. If you let me help you clean up, it’ll go much faster, and we can both get down to dinner before Mrs. Harper throws a hissy fit.”
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“Surely it is not time for the evening meal?” At her
nod, Avery cursed beneath his breath.
She shrugged, looking unconcerned. “They’ll get over my being late. You were hurt.”
“You must go.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Nope, not while you’re still bleeding.”
He gritted his teeth in irritation. “You silly wench, go down to supper. If you’re discovered in a man’s chambers, you’ll be ruined and cast out of the house. Smythe and Mrs. Harper would never allow you to stay.”
Raising her brows, she crossed her arms. “Well, you’d better hurry up then, because I’m not leaving this room until your injuries are taken care of.”
Despite the prickle of unease across his throat, he crossed the room to the basin again. Gripping the rag, he wrung it out and placed it on his broken skin with a hissing breath. Even though he desperately wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, he would not give her the advantage of losing his scrutiny.
“There. My wounds are being attended to. Now you may leave.”
She laughed at him. “This is going to take forever. At this rate I won’t get there in time for dessert, and then you’ll be in trouble for helping me get this job.”
Blast it— she left him no choice. His reluctant decision made, Avery laid the cloth back in the basin. “Be quick about it then. You must attend the evening meal.”
He could not miss the self-satisfied gleam in her eyes as she stood. “Good. Sit down on the bed there.”
He followed her instructions, his already sore muscles tight with apprehension. “This is very improper.”
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“Oh stop. I’m a servant, so nobody can give a crap about my reputation.”
“In this household, even the servants are held to an impossible standard. And are you not a servant who has designs on a duke?” He tossed the bitter question over his shoulder and gave a hiss of pain when she probed at his ribcage.
“Yeah. But still. This will only take a minute.” She stood upright, frowning at his rapidly darkening side.
“I think you’ve got a broken rib. We’ll need to wrap that up.”
He did not disagree.
Her touch was tender on his wounds, soft and gentle as she cleansed the blood from his skin and bound his aching sides. He found himself relaxing under her ministrations, despite his better judgment. When he’d been bandaged and cleansed to her satisfaction, she cleared her throat.
“So you didn’t say. How did this happen?”
Her question hung in the air, heavy and dark in its innocence. His teeth nearly drew blood from the inside of his cheek. She couldn’t know about his past. She’d hate him like the rest of the servants, and God help him, he could not face that derision coming from her. She was nearly a complete stranger to him, but she’d been so kind. The dark world of the boxing mills and his past was no place for a beautiful creature like her.
“Avery?”
He sighed.
“It is not a tale for lady’s ears, and it does not signify in any case.”
“But…”
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He stopped her with a hand in the air. “It does not
signify. But have a care, miss.” He turned to her. “Men are not always what they seem.”
i
Leah swallowed hard, trying not to let her confusion show on her face. What could he mean by such a cryptic warning? Men aren’t always what they seem? Was Avery some kind of criminal or something? Had he been injured while doing something illegal?
“Well,” she said, looking down at the basin of water to avoid the seriousness of his hazel gaze, “I’ll remember that.”
With confusion stirring in her brain, she turned to leave the room.
“Miss?”
Her heart fluttered with something odd when she turned to look at his shirtless form again. Even his bruises and bandages couldn’t detract from the muscled beauty of his masculine form, but a half-naked Avery facing her was truly a sight to behold. His arms and chest were lined with muscle, nicely defined with a sprinkling of hair across his chest and thickening in a line down his belly, disappearing into his high-waisted breeches. But his eyes were as serious as the grave.
“Think on what I’ve said.”