The Marquis’s hand tightened on hers.
“Are you perhaps glad you did?”
“So – very – very glad.”
She looked up at him and there seemed to be no need for words.
Something was being said between them that filled the whole room with light.
“You are not in pain?” the Marquis asked as if he forced the words to his lips.
He looked as he spoke at the livid bruise on her temple, which Sir William had said would heal more quickly without a bandage.
“Is it – so very – ugly?” Lela enquired.
“You look beautiful,” the Marquis replied, “so beautiful, Lela, that I cannot bear to think of you being hurt or injured or having anything happen to you that might be ugly or frightening.”
Lela thought that he was referring to the fact that she had to hide somewhere and that she would soon have to leave hi
