Page 32 of The Lyon’s Paw

“I see you spoke the truth.” Geoffrey finished his roll and abandoned his plate. “Would you like something more? I can ring—”

“No, thank you. I am fine. Except—” She looked at him pleading. “Might you pour me more tea? I usually drink a good deal of tea with breakfast.”

“Of course.” He rose, gathered her cup, grasped the tea pot from its own tray, and poured with a steady hand. “Milk or sugar?”

“Both, please.”

Once her cup had been returned to her, Geoffrey rang for the maid and sat back down in his chair.

“What do you propose to do for the rest of the day, my lord?” Diana eyed him as she sipped her cup. Her eyes had begun to droop. “I fear I am in need of a nap now.”

“You may do so for the next half an hour.” He rose again and took the almost empty teacup and saucer.

“Only half an hour?” She turned on her side toward him and burrowed underneath the covers.

“Then it will be time to soak your foot again.”

Diana shivered and pulled the blankets over top of her head. “No. Sleepy.”

Geoffrey shook his head and ran his hand over the covers that hid her delectable form. “We will see about that, my lady.”

No further protest came from the still figure, and he turned away grinning. The next few days with his wife would likely prove rather challenging and, if he had anything to do with it, rewarding beyond his dreams.

Chapter Fourteen

Two days later, trying for the third time that afternoon to persuade his wife to lower her foot into the bucket of icy water, Geoffrey ran a hand through his hair grumbling under his breath about stubborn women and wondering why he’d believed this task would be merely challenging. When he’d blithely assured Mr. Farley he could assist in making sure the patient complied with the foot soaks, he apparently hadn’t taken his wife’s true nature into consideration.

“Diana, come out from beneath the covers, please.” His wife had pulled the bedclothes up over her head, clutching them to her like a shroud.

“I said, ‘no’ Geoffrey and I meant no.” The muffled voice had determination in it. “You’ve already frozen my foot once today and that is enough.”

“Mr. Farley said you were to soak it five times a day.” Studying the coverlet intently for any chink he could exploit, Geoffrey moved silently toward the foot of the bed. “You’ve only done it once today, my dear, and it is well after noon.”

“I cannot stand it, Geoffrey.” Her voice had turned plaintive, which might have melted his resolve had he not known this was for her own good. “The iciness burns my skin. I shiver and shake with the cold, then my whole leg goes quite numb. It’s dreadfully unpleasant.”

“I’m very sorry for that, my dear.” He stopped at the point where the contour of the covers indicated her feet lay. Stealthily, he wormed his hand underneath the bedclothes. “But it would be even more unpleasant for you to remain lame indefinitely.”

“I won’t be lame—why is your voice all the way down at the end of the bed?” The suspicion in her voice made him burrow faster, searching for her good foot.

“Geoffrey!” Her voice, no longer muffled, shouted out his name.

He turned toward her to find she’d flung the covers from over her head and was glaring at him, her hair standing out around her like a glorious haze.

“What are you doing?” Diana managed to jerk her foot back just before he could close his fingers over it. She struggled to move the left one as well. “Ouch.”

“Don’t move that one,” he growled.

“I wouldn’t if you weren’t trying to grab me.” She’d succeeded in sliding the left foot away from him, but she was grimacing as she did it.

“Do you think I would risk injuring you further, Diana?” He glared at her, although it was difficult to maintain as she looked so charmingly disheveled sitting in the bed, glaring back at him.

“No, I don’t, but I know you like to have your way as much as I do.” She screwed her face up at him so hard she looked almost fierce—and utterly enchanting. “And I’m going to have my way this time.”

Sighing, Geoffrey sat on the edge of the bed, not ready to capitulate quite yet. “Your ankle is not going to get better unless you do as the doctor says.”

“I have done as he said for the past two days, enduring the torture of that icy bucket until I thought my toes would all fall off.” She pulled the covers up tight around her as though she was freezing. “My ankle is just fine as it is.”

“You said ‘ouch’ only a moment ago when you tried to move it, if you recall.” He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look stern. “I’d say that meant it was not fine at all.”