Free The Bargain by Mary J. Putney Page A

Jocelyn said, “I shall assign him one, plus any other nursing care he requires.”
    Sally turned to go, then turned back to say hesitantly, “There is one other thing. He thought it was your idea to bring him here, and that pleased him very much. I hope you will not disabuse him of the notion.”
    At the limits of her patience, Jocelyn snapped, “You shall just have to hope that my manners aren’t so lacking that I will torment a dying man. Now will you remove yourself from my presence?”
    Sally beat a hasty retreat, shaking in reaction. Any doubts she might have had that Lady Jocelyn was a brass-hearted virago had been laid to rest. But surely she would at least be courteous to David, who seemed to cherish the illusion that she was a good person. Discovering the witch’s real character would distress him.

Chapter 6
    I t took only a quarter-hour to get the major and his few belongings settled in a sumptuous room with a diagonal view of Hyde Park. It appeared to be the best guest chamber, and Sally again conceded, with enormous reluctance, that Lady Jocelyn did not do things by half-measures. David was white-faced with pain from the move, and Sally was grateful that she had carried the bottle of laudanum over in her knitting bag. When the footman had left, she gave her brother another dose of opium.
    Burying her own feelings about Lady Jocelyn, Sally said, “Though your wife was good enough to offer me a room here, I think it’s best that I sleep at the Launcestons’. But I’ll come every afternoon, as I did at the hospital, and Richard said he’ll call tomorrow.” She straightened the covers over his thin frame. “Time for you to get some sleep. The trip must have been exhausting.”
    David smiled faintly. “True, but I’m fine now, little hedgehog.”
    â€œNow that you’re settled, I’m going to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. Dr. Ramsey said there’s a very fine surgeon there, someone who might be able to help you.”
    â€œPerhaps,” her brother said, unimpressed.
    She noticed that his eyes kept drifting to the door. Was he expecting his so-called wife to visit him? Hoping that Lady Jocelyn was well-bred enough to do that much, Sally said, “I’ll visit again later.” She bent to kiss his forehead, then left.
    Hugh Morgan was approaching the blue room. “Her ladyship has assigned me to be the major’s servant,” he said ingenuously. “It’s a real honor.”
    â€œI’m sure you will suit him very well.” As Sally left, she felt unwilling amusement at the perfect poetic justice Lady Jocelyn had visited on Morgan, the accidental instrument for bringing the major to these hallowed precincts. Caring for a gravely injured man would not be easy. Luckily, the footman seemed like a kind, conscientious young man. David would be in good hands.
    Now to find the mad Scot at St. Bartholomew’s.

    It took Jocelyn a good half-hour to calm down. When her appalling sister-in-law arrived, she’d been admiring the flowers Candover had sent that morning. The note read only Until September , and was signed with a boldly scrawled C.
    Holding the note and remembering that wordless but potent interchange between them, she’d been lost in dreams. Perhaps in the enigmatic duke she would find what she had always sought, and never dared believe she would find.
    Then that unspeakable female had blundered in with her threats and her emotional blackmail. Except for Sally Lancaster’s vivid green eyes, there was no resemblance to David, who was a gentleman to the core.
    Jocelyn’s mouth curved involuntarily as she remembered her remark about buying the major with gold. Aunt Laura would have gone into a spasm if she had heard her niece say anything so unforgivably vulgar, but Sally Lancaster had a genius for bringing out the worst in Jocelyn’s nature.
    Jocelyn sighed, her amusement gone, and