Free The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) by Jenn LeBlanc

found herself to be dwelling in here, at his manor.
    He exhaled sharply as he entered the clearing. He truly needed to find some measure of calm. He was scaring the wits out of Mrs. Weston; he could see it in her eyes. He was ashamed by his behavior as of late, but he didn’t know how to be around this woman. He climbed up on his rock and sat down, high and away from the water’s edge.
    All he could think about was the day she’d arrived. He’d cut her dress and corset loose and managed to revive her somewhat. Then he’d carried her from the edge of the clearing up to the manor and to the guest suite. He’d stayed with her, removing the remaining tatters of her bright satin dress while Mrs. Weston sent for the doctor and gathered supplies.
    He’d watched her closely, trying to bring her around with gentle hands. He’d loosed her hair and tried to smooth the brambles from it. He’d massaged her back in slow gaining circles to calm her speeding heartbeat. Finally when her eyelashes fluttered, he’d soothed her with hushed words, caressing her face and her hair. When the doctor arrived and she began to come around in earnest, he’d reluctantly stepped out.
    He didn’t go far, pacing the hallway outside the room nervously until Mrs. Weston came out bearing news. He’d felt an extreme flood of concern for her, unlike he had for anyone before that day, but when he came back into the room and she was railing about being kidnapped and mistreated and him , he’d lost his wits.
    Roxleigh shook his head, laying on the rock with his knees bent, his boots flat, well above the gently breaking water of the pond. He listened to Samson’s quiet huffing and snickering as he grazed nearby, the sun warm and welcoming. He was tempted to slumber, but knew he needed to return to the manor. It was getting late, and he was exhausted from his sleepless nights, thick with dreams.

Dr. Walcott had departed the duke’s manor only to be caught by a messenger with a dispatch from Kelso. A town smaller than Roxleighshire by half, Kelso was a little more than an hour south by carriage.
    He examined the girl as soon as he arrived. She looked like she had been flung about the woods like a rag doll. The visible damage was so extensive he had no idea where to begin, or where the injuries might end.
    He finally decided the proper course was to clean the wounds as best as he was able, putting salve on and wrapping them up to protect them from air. If they were allowed to dry they would crack when she moved, causing her such a fright of pain she wouldn’t survive. Sighing, he realized she might not make it regardless.
    The girl’s face was practically unrecognizable, but everyone here knew who she was and her parents were waiting just outside. Her mother was in such a state that Dr. Walcott gave her some laudanum to ease her so he could deal with Lilly. He motioned for the two girls at the door and quietly sent them for fresh linens, shears, and kettles of hot water. He rolled up his sleeves and settled in for a long night.
    Roxleigh returned to the manor and vaulted up the stairs, energized from his ride. He paused on the landing to examine the chandelier, its lowest point at a height just above his head. He liked to watch as the sun set, sending shafts of light toward the crystals, painting the entry in rainbows of shattered light. The back of the manor faced west, the high windows above the private parlor allowing the setting sun to reach the chandelier.
    At this time of year the light show went much unnoticed, as it happened just when everyone was preparing for supper. During the summer months the show would greet the guests arriving for suppers and balls, and in the winter months it warmed the occupants who were shut in from the cold.
    Roxleigh turned and walked into his suite. A slipper tub steamed in front of the fire. His evening wear was laid out carefully, his robe on the settee next to the bath.
    Ferry entered the room as Roxleigh