His Wicked Seduction novel Chapter 45

The entry hall of Rochester Hall was full of people. Lady Rochester had apparently been in the midst of welcoming the Cavendishes, who had arrived at the same time as Lawrence and Avery.

"Get out of the bloody way! Wounded man coming through!" Avery bellowed as he and Lawrence carried their brother through the crowd towards the stairs leading to Lucien's bedchamber.

Lady Rochester started to follow them but Lucien shook his head. "I'm fine, Mother. Please, stay with the guests. Horatia will see to me and send you up when I'm settled." His tone, while breathless, brooked no argument.

"I'll be up to see you soon, my dear," she promised him.

Horatia tried to follow after Avery and Lawrence, but Lady Rochester grabbed her arm, demanding answers. In a breathless rush she explained the events in an attempt to calm the crowd at large. Strangely, the act soothed her for the moment as well.

"He looks well," Sir John Cavendish said. "Don't fret. If he's walking and talking he'll be fine. I suffered worse during the war."

Sir John Cavendish and his wife Marie were old family friends of the Sheridans and Russells. Until Sir John had moved his family to Brighton four years ago, the three families had often spent the holidays together.

His calm words drew a trembling nod from Horatia. He was right. Sir John was always right. She'd never met a more level-headed man.

"Sir John, how lovely to see you again." Horatia greeted him with real warmth and embraced the lovely and Rubenesque Marie. The Cavendishes had two children, Gregory and Lucinda with them. Lucinda was Horatia's age with blond hair and blue eyes. She was a more feminine version of her impossibly attractive brother Gregory, who had been schoolmates with Avery at Eton and Cambridge, being only year apart in age.

"Excuse me, I must go and see how Lucien is." Horatia managed to slip away from everyone and dash up the stairs.

Lucien's door was open and he was lying in his bed stripped of his wet clothes. His eyes were closed and his chest bare with the blankets pulled up only to his waist. His muscles were smooth and sculpted and for a second her mind blanked before reality crashed in. Three pairs of eyes studied her and Horatia felt her face heat up.

"I..." she stammered.

Lucien stirred. "Horatia?" His voice was hoarse.

"Yes?"