Page 71 of Love with a Notorious Rake

“Is she…alive?” Carter asked.

“Yes. But there could be complications,” Paris replied.

“Such as?” Aidan asked.

“Pressure on the brain, infection, shock from the loss of blood. Because of this, I believe it best we move her to the hospital in Hinckley.”

“And what can they do for her that you and Cristyn cannot? If she goes there, you know that because she’s an orphan she will immediately be transferred to a workhouse infirmary and lost in the morass of a broken system. She is under my protection, and I will not allow her out of my sight.”

Carter gazed up at Aidan with admiration, and he patted the boy’s shoulder in reassurance. The sight made Cristyn’s heart skip a beat. Aidan claimed that he was not a hero, but she would beg to differ. And so would the boy.

Paris met Aidan’s gaze. “Well, I do have a bed in the rear she can use. What is her name?”

“She said Lottie, but I think she was given the name at one of the orphanages. She doesn’t know her age, either. Maybe six or seven,” Carter replied. “I want to stay with her. Can I, Mr. Black? Please, sir. Please, Doctor.” He looked pleadingly between the two men.

“I don’t see the harm,” Paris said. “It is best if someone sits with her. The boy and I will take shifts. What is your name?”

“Carter Rokesmith.”

“Carter, wait out front while we get Lottie comfortable,” Paris said.

“One moment,” Aidan interjected. “I will send for my man in Hinckley. He has a carriage. If the child takes a turn, we will transport her to the hospital immediately. It is a far better choice of vehicle than a ramshackle wagon. Carter, if I write a note, will you deliver it? You know where it is; you delivered an envelope to him before.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Unfortunately, I have to return to the mill. I will explain Carter’s absence somehow.”

Cristyn laid a hand on his arm. “Come, I will show you to pen and paper.”

Once they moved into the front room of the clinic, Cristyn impulsively stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him.

“What was that for?” Aidan whispered.

“You were wonderful with Rokesmith. I heard you pledge your protection. I didn’t think I could love you more, but…”

Aidan swept her up into a crushing embrace, kissing her hungrily, as if he were starving. Cristyn tunneled her fingers into his thick hair and he lifted her from the floor, holding her tight against him. The sound of voices broke them apart.

Reality caused the passion to dissipate as quickly as it had flared. Aidan sat at the desk, and Cristyn collected pen and paper and placed it before him. As she turned to leave, he clasped her wrist. “I need to see you. Tonight,” he rasped.

“I’m not sure how that can be achieved,” she murmured.

Aidan didn’t answer, as Carter had walked into the room. Aidan scratched out a message, then folded the paper. “Stay there and return with Samuel Jenkins. Understand?”

Carter touched his forelock. “Aye, sir.” He took the folded note and scampered away.

“I will have to acquire a room for Samuel. Hopefully there is a vacancy at the inn.”

“If not, maybe Mrs. Trubshaw could spare a room.” It struck Cristyn that Aidan’s time in Earl Shilton was coming to a close. “You’re nearly finished here, aren’t you?” The thought of him leaving caused her heart to ache.

“Yes, sooner than I had thought. Much depends on what Rokesmith will tell me—if he tells me.”

Cristyn gave him a sad smile. “I believe he will. He looks at you as if you were his hero.”

“What nonsense,” Aidan sniffed. He stood and walked toward her. He took her hand and laid it on the fall of his trousers. She found unyielding hardness. “See what you do to me? One passionate kiss and I am desperate for you. Tonight, Cris. Come to me. However you can achieve it.” He dropped her hand, then departed. Cristyn stood in the window, watching him climb onto the wagon. Giving her one last sultry look, Aidan snapped the reins and disappeared down the lane.

Damn the warnings and sage advice from Paris and Mrs. Trubshaw, and even her father. Nothing would keep her away.

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