The Pleasure of Bedding a Baroness Read Online Free Page B

grimacing. “We kept having to stop on the way for her to be sick on the side of the road. It was very unpleasant. But Patience was bound and determined to reach London today. She kept saying she was all right. I—I didn’t know she had moldy mare!”
    “Miss Waverly, have you anyone else to look after you?” Max said. “Besides your elder sister, I mean?”
    “No,” Pru replied. “Our parents are dead. We’ve been on our own since we lost our grandfather. We have a trustee in America, and that is quite enough for us, let me tell you.”
    Dr. Wingfield frowned. “What about your sister’s husband? Lord Waverly, is it? Where is he?”
    Pru stared at him. “Oh, no!” she said. “Lord Waverly was our uncle, sir. Patience inherited the title from him.”
    “Oh, yes, of course,” said Dr. Wingfield. “I read about it in the papers. A suo jure baroness—and an American, besides. I thought the name was familiar.”
    “I see,” said Max, who rarely bothered with newspapers. “Well, Miss Prudence, we must find someone to stay with you until your sister is better.”
    “Will you stay with me?” she asked him, with sweet, trusting simplicity.
    Although he was a man of notorious personal habits, Max was deeply shocked by her suggestion. At the same time he was touched by the girl’s naiveté, which he judged to be quite genuine. “That will not be possible, Miss Prudence,” he said gently. “You must have a respectable lady to look after you. I would not make you a creditable chaperone.”
    “Oh,” said Pru, crestfallen.
    Dr. Wingfield cleared his throat. “As for the patient—if anyone is interested in her, that is—she’s going to need constant nursing for the next few weeks if she is to make a full recovery.”
    “Weeks!” cried Pru. “Is it as bad as that? She can’t still be seasick! Not on land.”
    “It will take time for her to regain her strength,” said the doctor. “She must have a nurse.”
    “I can’t!” cried Pru, clinging to Max. “I can’t do it! I stayed with her the entire time we were on the ship! I never left her side! But I can’t do it anymore! I’m simply exhausted! I hate the sickroom! The smell!” She lifted her face to look at the doctor. Tears stood in her green eyes. “You must think I’m horrible. But I just can’t do it anymore!”
    Max’s heart went out to her. “No one thinks you’re horrible,” he said, patting her shoulder. Searching his pockets, he was mortified to discover that he had no handkerchief to lend her. “Of course you can’t do it. You can barely keep your eyes open. Dr. Wingfield is not suggesting that you become your sister’s nurse.”
    “Indeed I am not,” Dr. Wingfield promptly agreed. “Despite what you may think, young lady, I have no desire to have two patients in Clarges Street, which is what I will have if you ruin your health while looking after your sister’s. I was thinking of a professional nurse, someone who is used to dealing with sick people.”
    “I know just the person,” said Max, brushing away Pru’s tears with his hand. “My old nurse, Mrs. Drabble. She’s very capable, Miss Prudence. There is no one I trust more.”
    “You needed a nurse, Mr. Purefoy?” Pru asked him shyly.
    He smiled at her. “Long ago, when I was a child. She lives here in London now, an independent lady, but I believe if I ask her, she will come.”
    “Would you, sir?” Pru said gratefully. “We don’t know anyone in London, except the attorney. Patience would know what to do, of course, but she—!” She broke off, her lip trembling. “I—I shall have to depend on you, sir,” she managed, after a slight pause. “I do depend on you.”
    Max exchanged an uneasy glance with Dr. Wingfield. The girl was terrifyingly naive.
    “I will go and fetch Drabble now,” Max said quietly.
    Pru squared her shoulders bravely. “I will sit with Patience until you return, sir.”
    “No,” Dr. Wingfield said firmly. “ I will sit with