Page 15 of Broken

Dear God, what the hell was he supposed to do with her now?

The butler moved to insert the bricks, but Giles took them from him and placed them around her feet carefully. When his hand brushed over her toes, he found them ice cold.

“See if you can find some stockings or such,” Giles said as he rubbed her tiny feet, trying to stimulate some warmth.

Dithers rattled drawers open and closed, finally returning to thrust a pair of thick, white stockings at him. Giles was completely unfamiliar with the style, but loathed them on sight.

The butler chuckled at his reaction. “Not many garments in those draws to choose between,” Dithers commented. “I would venture that she does not get about much. I did find this. It’s a fair likeness.”

Giles stared at the palm-sized portrait of himself, made years ago. To Giles’ mind, it didn’t look anything like him. “Put the trinket back where you found it.”

Giles slipped the ugly stockings up to her knees under the nightgown, being careful not to peek, but the more he touched, the more he wanted to touch. Disgusted with himself, he pulled the covers up, picking up her hand, meaning to tuck it under, too. He noticed a scar and turned her arm. In the raw light of day, the bite marks his dog had inflicted were hideous.

“The scarring could have been worse, but they’ve healed over nicely and I never heard she developed an infection from them,” the butler remarked. “Without Atticus, she would have drowned. That was a deep hole he pulled her from.”

Dithers’ informality made it easier to forget the problems Giles would face when Lilly was conscious again. He tucked her arm under the blankets, pulled them up over her chest and to her chin. Her face was cold too. His knuckles grazed her jaw and he fought the urge to cradle her face in his hands. What was wrong with him? And what on earth was it about Lillian Winter that attracted him?

She wasn’t even conscious. Usually his amorous inclinations tended to die without some form of reciprocation.

Giles stood back to study her. What should he do next?

“Shall I have Daisy sent up to sit with her?” Dithers asked, breaking the silence.

Since he had a sneaking suspicion that he shouldn’t trust himself where Lillian Winter was concerned, that was probably best. “Yes, do that. I will stay until she is warm again. Fetch me the folio from my study, as well. I may as well get some work done.”

“I am sure she will recover, milord.”

“You cannot know that,” Giles snapped, then took a deep breath, letting it escape slowly to calm himself.

“She isn’t as frail as your mother was, milord. Miss Winter has clung to life this long, hasn’t she?”

Giles didn’t answer. Lilly may not be as frail as his mother, yet the existence of laudanum in the house brought the pain of her loss rushing back, turning his thoughts to chaos. He took another deep breath. Calmer, he glanced at Dithers, who was on the point of leaving the room. “Has the nurse been located?”

“In all the excitement, I did forget about her, milord. Do you want her pursued?”

His suggestion was ridiculous, given the number of staff they had here. Too few for an attempted recapture. “No, but inform me immediately if she returns to the manor. I will not know how to deal with her absence until Lilly wakes, in any case.”

Giles stared at the still form in the bed, but heard the unmistakable snort that passed his butler’s mouth. Was it because he’d slipped and used Lilly’s first name? Giles ignored him and Dithers left without another word, though he did not take Giles’ worries with him.

Lilly could still die. Giles didn’t want another death at Cottingstone to haunt him. Another failure to torment his restless moments.

When the maid came to relieve him, he chose to remain too.

Hours later, he turned his head to watch his sleeping ghost. Night had fallen and she still hadn’t moved. Somehow, he’d grown accustomed to the panicked beat of his heart. He stood, stretched out the kinks from sitting so long, and ran his fingers along the coverlet-covered arm. She twitched, but other than that small movement, she did nothing more encouraging.

After glancing over to check if the maid was still napping, he captured a limp strand of hair and rubbed it between his fingers. Giles loved the color, the texture. He sighed. He should not be alone with Lillian Winter. Given the way his mind was working, he would be extremely bad for her reputation. Lilly would soon go away for the rest of her life and never see the world again.

Giles finally understood his mother’s depression over his father’s sudden absence from her life. Seeing Lilly, knowing she was destined for a reclusive existence, unsettled his stomach. Incarceration was as bad as death.

Mrs. Osprey slipped into the room and sent the maid away. “Are you recovered from the shock, my lord?”

“As much as I will ever be. My apologies. My earlier outburst was unforgivable,” he muttered.

“I imagine she’s something of a surprise—so pretty and fine boned. An angel.”

“You’ve met her before, too?” It was clear from her tone that she was fond of Lilly.

“Yes. Before her accident, I was assigned to serve her at first.”