The visible proof of his dishonor should fill him with shame. Instead, his heart lurched when he realized she was close to tears. Christ, he was an arse. He was so wrapped up in his own head, he hadn’t thought how she might be feeling.

“I’m sorry . . .” she said.

Why was she apologizing? It was his fault. He took a step toward the bed. “Nay, I’m . . .”

He stopped. What had he been about to say? He blinked a few times and then squinted through the haze that seemed to be fogging his vision. He reached out to grab the wooden post of the bed as the room started to tilt.

“What the hell?”

He was conscious of her taking his arm and easing him back down on the bed. “You’re tired,” she said in such a soft voice she might have been miles away. “Rest.”

It was the last thing he remembered before waking with his head feeling as if it had been split apart by an axe.

He rolled the pillow over his head to block out the offending light. Thank God, he didn’t have a bloody window. The sunshine would have been too much to bear.

Christ, how much had he drunk last night?

Last night. Suddenly it all came back to him, although with the grogginess it took him a few minutes to sort out the fantasies from the reality. He might have thought it all fantasy if his pillow didn’t smell like flowers.

What had he expected? That she would still be here in the morning? Had she slipped out of the room in the middle of the night or waited until morning?

Both images filled him with distaste, and neither was going to happen again.

He knew exactly what he had to do. Joan might not like it, but it was too late for that.

With grim determination, Alex fought off the blistering headache and swirling stomach with a dunking of cold water from the pitcher, and began to don his armor. He was going into battle, and this was a war he wasn’t going to lose.

Chapter 14

14

JOAN LOOKED UP at the sound of the door, her pulse jumping like that of a startled hare. The needle she’d been about to push through the piece of linen stilled in her hand as she waited . . .

Bess. It was only the serving maid, bringing refreshment.

Her heart fell from her throat back into its normal position. Returning her gaze to her embroidery, she finished the stitch.

The deflating sigh that settled through her body was one of relief. It certainly wasn’t disappointment. She was glad Alex hadn’t come bursting through the door to her cousin’s antechamber this morning after discovering her gone. Of course she was.