Free The Virtuous Assassin by Charlotte Anne Page B

muttered through clenched teeth. “It’s nothing.”
    She took a hesitant step forward, keeping to the shadows cast by the candle on his bedside table. “A-are you sure? There’s blood.”
    She pointed to his leg, and he glanced down. His wound was oozing again, and blood stained his breeches. He must have jumped up too quickly when he ’d heard the alarm.
    “ Oh.” Josse sat on the edge of his bed. He’d have to change the bandage, but the pain was making his eyes water. “I need my man-servant. It’s his night off, but you’ll probably find him in the kitchens, drinking.”
    “ All right.” She took a quick step towards the door but jumped as new footsteps hurried by. “L-let me help instead. I know what to do.”
    He shook his head. He didn ’t want her seeing his leg.
    “ Come on.” Her voice was stronger this time. She grabbed a handful of bandages from the desk and knelt at his side. “Let me see.”
    Dark shadows flickered over her servant’s tunic, and he shook his head. He didn’t understand her at all. She’d been brave enough to break curfew but was terrified of the soldiers and was now ignoring the order of a lord.
    He opened his mouth to remind her of his status, but the pain was so great his hands shook, and it was all he could do to push down his breeches and expose his wound.
    She tutted softly, pulling back the old bandage to reveal a deep laceration cutting into his thigh muscle. It was partly healed but had t orn open at one corner. She dabbed it gently with water from his basin, wiping away the blood.
    He grunted softly, flinging back his head and closing his eyes. It was a heady mixture of pleasure and pain. He could feel the blood pumping around his body as i f her touch somehow ignited a previously forgotten sense of self-awareness.
    Everything was suddenly a whole lot clearer. He could suddenly feel the light early-morning breeze that slipped in through the window shutters, pulling with it the smell of the cas tle yard, the smoke from the enemy’s fires, and the coppery scent of blood.
    He breathed more deeply, ignoring the outside to concentrate on the girl. She smelt sweet, like lavender, with a touch of something entirely her own. And her hands touching his leg , it was more intense than anything he’d felt in a long time. He clenched his fists, twisting his sheets into knots.
    Her hands moved a little higher, and beads of water from the washcloth dripped down his leg.
    “You should’ve stayed in bed.”
    Josse jumped. “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” he replied a little huskily, glancing down. She was engrossed in her work, apparently oblivious to his body’s reaction to her touch.
    She started wrapping a clean bandage around his leg, and he shifted involuntary. He neede d to distract himself. It had been too long since a woman had made him feel this way. Not since before the war had begun. “What’s your name?”
    She paused, shifting uncomfortably as if she could suddenly feel his gaze on the top of her head. “Cateline,” she said almost reluctantly. “I’m Cateline.”
    “ It’s a lovely name. The same as my grandmother’s, Katherine.”
    She did a double take, staring into his face, really looking at him for the first time. Her blue eyes were bordered with thick lashes, longer than any he’d ever seen.
    “ You’re—”
    He tugged at his breeches, but Cateline didn ’t notice, her hands resting against his leg as though mesmerised. “Lord Jocelyn Gabriel,” he finished. “I know.” Everyone knew. Sard! That explained why she’d ignored his order and dressed the wound herself. She hadn’t realised who he was.
    “ Oh.” Her hands flew from his leg to grasp her ankle.
    “ It’s fine.” He clutched her shoulders, pulling them both into a standing position. “Now why’d you break curfew?”
    “ I didn’t r-realise—”
    She was suddenly scared again, and he caught sight of blood droplets staining her tunic. Her muscles tightened under