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She was waiting for him in the sitting room, beautiful lips pouting as she surveyed him.
“The maid told me a beautiful woman showed up with bruises all over her face today.”
Elliot sighed, pouring himself a drink before sitting down across from his wife. Looking at her, he felt a familiar surge of desire, of attraction. Her beauty was undeniable; she had been using it to gain power since before he had met her.
“The maid said she was beautiful?”
The lightest of French accents augmented Katarina’s response.
“No, but when I asked, she would not answer. That means she is either unspeakably disfigured or…someone that you would offer sanctuary to.”
Elliot smiled, eyes narrowed over the rim of his whiskey glass.
“You know me well, my dear.”
She leaned back and crossed her legs, exuding the easy, sensual, appeal that made her relatively ordinary face into one that could seduce anything with legs.
“And you me. Which is why I wonder why you would bring one of your old playthings back into a house where I live.”
His face grew thoughtful, only a slight twinkle in his eyes revealing the same mockery that laced his tone.
“Oh and your plaything…the garden boy? He is acceptable, but Lavinia is not?”
Katarina laughed, a throaty chuckle.
“Touche. But that is not what I was asking. I do not mind if you want to…explore. I was wondering why you chose here? And why you choose her? You do not normally bring your old sex kittens home with you.”
Elliot looked at the ice melting at the bottom of his glass.
“She is not…a plaything. I do not intend to touch her.”
Katarina’s eyes narrowed, and Elliot sensed unease in her countenance.
“So…you care about her. She is more than exploration, she is-”
He cut her off firmly.
“A friend. A very old friend, who I intend to help and to honor. I had hoped you would extend her the same courtesy. She will not be here long.”
Katarina folded her hands in her lap, her skin startlingly white against the black of her dress.
“I see. Well then I will of course help the poor girl. Men can be so…”
She paused to give him a piercing glance that reminded him of her intelligence.
“…cruel.”
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The doctor was gentle, but thorough as he probed the bruises that covered Lavinia’s side. After a moment, however, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
“M’lady, I must ask you to give me an indication of any…discomfort you may feel.”
Lavinia pushed herself up in bed.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Carry on.”
His fingers resumed their probing, resting lightly on one of her broken ribs.
“That hurts.”
He moved slightly lower. She rolled her eyes.
“And that hurts. And that doesn’t.”
The doctor looked at her nervously, puzzled at her complete lack of emotion as he put pressure on her plethora of injuries.
“All right. You have some fractured ribs, but your nose isn’t broken. All you really need is bed rest. I will wrap your midsection for you, but it won’t do much if you don’t get plenty of sleep and allow healing time.”
She stood up, ignoring his half articulated protests as she removed her overdress.
“Thank you very much doctor, I can wrap myself.”
She had done it before. He hesitated, teetering between desire to do his job and to give her privacy.
“All right…then…here. Be sure not to wrap too tightly.”
He handed her a white bandage and bowed out of the room. Lavinia winced as she looked down at the purplish splotches that covered most of her stomach. It took her a moment to get up the nerve, but eventually, she took a deep breath and began to wind the bandages around her midsection, sending a myriad of screeching protests up her side.
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Elliot showed the doctor to the door, thanking him profusely for coming on such short notice.
“I really appreciate it, doctor.”
The man nodded, looking preoccupied.
“She’s an odd patient, if I may say so, sir.”
Elliot tucked his hands into his pockets.
“Oh?”
Doctor Saurenson nodded, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. It was a pompous habit, one that Elliot had always associated with doctors.
“No sign of pain, not even a wince. One has to wonder…”
Elliot raised his eyebrows, but couldn’t help a slight smile. Of course Lavinia had puzzled the poor man. She puzzled everyone.
“That is indeed strange, Doctor.”
Saurenson nodded emphatically, still looking concerned.
“Sir, I would ask you to watch her recovery as closely as possible, or ask a maid to do so. I worry she may not understand the extent of her injuries. Just…try to make sure she doesn’t push too much too soon.”
Elliot smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand heartily.
“I will. Thanks very much.”
As soon as the door had shut behind the man, he began to laugh. As if he, or anyone else could prevent Lavinia from doing to much too fast! But he conceded the doctor’s point. Despite the comedy of the situation, he resolved to keep an eye on his guest.
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The next day, Lavinia awoke to the presence of a lady’s maid who stood, holding a towel and a bar of soap.
“I have orders to draw a bath for your ladyship. The doctor said you could get the linens wet, they’d dry on their own.”
Lavinia closed her eyes for a moment, feeling slightly giddy. A bath sounded heavenly at the moment, a chance to relax her discipline for a moment.
“Thank you.”
She pushed herself out of bed, ignoring the pain that would come with movement for a couple of weeks, and settled into the familiar routine of dressing and bathing. Once she was presentable, the maid pulled out the stool for the dressing table.
“Sir Elliot asked that you be given everything you needed, M’Lady. He sent up perfumes and jewelry, and Lady Katarina asked that you be lent clothing from her own wardrobe, if you wished it.”
Lavinia, remembering that Katarina was Elliot’s wife, blinked in surprise. It was uncommon for women to appreciate housing their husband’s mistress and even less common for them to extend courtesies.
“Please convey my warmest thanks.”
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Dusk had fallen by the time Lavinia was released from the mountains of paperwork that awaited her. She sat at the small desk in her room for hours; writing letters, calling in favors, and drafting a perfunctory written statement for Henry. With a sigh, she at least tossed down her quill, pressed the last seal into place, and stood, surveying the pile of stationary. Slowly, she made her way down the stairs and out the door, looking around for her horse, who was in dire need of grooming. Star was waiting, tied to the fence. She nickered softly at the sight of her owner. Lavinia smiled, stroking her nose.
“Hello there.”
Star butted her gently, making her laugh softly.
“Yes, I’m terribly sorry I had to leave you, but setting one’s affairs in order can be extraordinarily tiresome.”
A soft voice behind her interrupted the one-sided dialogue.
“You must be Lavinia.”
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Lavinia turned slightly and gave the woman a cool glance. She was indeed beautiful; the rumors seemed to be true. Katarina smiled and extended a hand, which Lavinia shook stiffly.
“It was very kind of you to be so accommodating. Thank you.”
Katarina smiled, revealing a dimple in one cheek.
“It was my pleasure to welcome a friend of my husband.”
Lavinia looked away, suddenly ashamed.
“I…um…well your hospitality is appreciated.”
Katarina laughed, an unexpected sound for Lavinia, who raised an eyebrow. Katarina, still smiling placed a hand on her arm.
“I am not naive, ma petite fleur. Je sais vous etait….pardon. I know you were more than a friend. I have many playthings myself. I give you clothing because us women have to stick together. Men are not kind, are they?”
Lavinia glanced sideways at the woman, who was openly examining her bruises. Katarina was far more frank than anyone Lavinia had ever met, especially the rich ones. She found herself appreciating the blunt honesty in her blue eyes.
“Yes, I suppose we must.”
Katarina nodded.
“And now I must take care of you. The doctor says no walking, yes? I will call Inga.”
Lavinia sighed, but couldn’t bring herself to be quite as forthright as her new acquaintance. In truth, she had walked around with far worse injuries than these without the blink of an eye. Instead of protesting however, she followed the graceful footsteps of her host.