Read Online Forbidden Love by Karen Robards - Free Book Online

Megan answered, bewildered at the abrupt change of topic.
    Justin stared at her. “For God’s sake, didn’t they teach you anything in those schools? I paid them enough money!” He sounded thoroughly annoyed, and Megan felt her bewilderment grow. What on earth did her education have to do with it?
    “My lord?” The words were a soft question. Her eyes were puzzled as they searched his lean face.
    Justin looked at her sharply, saw the uncomprehending innocence in her eyes, and sighed. “Never mind,” he said roughly. Then, taking a deep breath, he asked, “Where’s Mrs. Donovan?”
    “I sent her to bed. She’s old, and she was tired.”
    “So you thought you’d play the ministering angel for a while, did you?” Justin asked sardonically. Harsh lines of what Megan assumed to be pain appeared around the edges of his mouth. “Well, you can take yourself off to bed, too. I assure you that I won’t expire in the night if I’m left alone.”
    “But what if you should want something? You can’t possibly get out of bed to get it yourself,” Megan pointed out. Justin, looking at her impatiently, saw that she was shivering, and that she had wrapped her arms over her breasts for warmth.
    “You’re freezing. Go on to bed,” he ordered abruptly. Megan’s mouth took on the stubborn curve that he was beginning to know all too well.
    “I have a quilt over there in the chair,” she said. “I’ll curl up and be very quiet, but I’m not leaving you alone.”
    The spark in her eyes told him that she would not be persuaded, and he was in no condition to argue about it. Sighing, Justin gave it up.
    “Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered furiously, trying not to look at her. He closed his eyes. “Give me the damned sleeping draught!”
    •  •  •
    When Justin awoke at last it was to find the bright autumn sunshine streaming in through the many-paned windows that gave him an excellent view of the Irish countryside even from his bed. He was relieved but a little sorry to see Mrs. Donovan sitting in the chair Megan had occupied the night before. When she saw that he was awake, she put down the mending she had been working on and bustled around making him comfortable in a way that was a great improvement over Megan’s inept ministrations of the night before. There wasn’t much she could do for him besides straightening his bed and settling his breakfast tray, but at least she presented no threat to his peace of mind. When he had eaten, he sent Mrs. Donovan away, preferring her husband’s assistance in performing his morning ablutions, and helping him into his dressing gown.
    By the time Megan put in an appearance, Justin was sitting up against his pillows, a book of plays forgottenon the bedspread beside him and a decidedly peevish look on his face. Dr. Ryan had been in to see him, and had ordered him to stay in bed for at least the next few days; with his leg out of commission—and it pained him damnably!—he had little choice but to obey. Without the aid of a crutch, which would take perhaps three days to make, he had no way of getting around. To add insult to injury, Mrs. Donovan seemed convinced that his injury relegated him to nursery status, and she addressed him in motherly tones that annoyed him unbearably. She called him Master Justin, which she hadn’t done since he had inherited the title at the age of sixteen, when she brought him his lunch she warned him to eat it all like a good boy! She had told him that he was feeling cross because he was tired, and that he should try to take a nap. And then, thankfully, she had left him alone. That had been perhaps three hours before; by the time Megan tapped on his door, he was facing the fact that he was utterly bored.
    When she entered in response to his curt summons, she looked so young and unconsciously appealing in her jonquil-colored day dress that Justin glared at her. She came to stand at the foot of the bed, her hands curving around the ornately