Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 146 - Hundred And Forty Six

Carcel opened his eyes slowly.

The first thing he noticed was the light. It was not the gray, gloomy light of a London fog, nor was it the harsh, artificial light of the carriage torch. It was soft, golden sunlight streaming through a window that faced east. It danced on the ceiling, painting patterns of warmth that felt foreign to him.

He blinked, trying to clear the haze in his mind.

This was not his bedroom. His bedroom had dark green curtains and heavy mahogany furniture. This room was airy. The walls were papered in a delicate floral pattern. The air smelled of dried roses and ink—a scent that was distinctly, undeniably her.

Ines.

Carcel tried to sit up, but a dull throb behind his eyes stopped him. He groaned softly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His body felt heavy, like he had been trampled by a horse. His muscles ached with a deep, lingering soreness.

He raised his hand to rub his temple. He stopped when he saw something white.

His hand was bandaged. Strips of linen were wrapped expertly around his knuckles and across his palm.

The memories came rushing back in a chaotic flood.

The fight in the fog. The sound of his fist hitting Mr. Finch’s jaw. The cold wind biting through his thin shirt as he rode back to the city. The desperate climb up the trellis to Ines’s balcony because he couldn’t risk being seen at the front door.

He remembered standing in her room, shivering so hard his teeth rattled. He remembered her face—pale, terrified, but beautiful.

And then... darkness.

"I blacked out," Carcel whispered to the empty room. His voice sounded rough, like he had swallowed gravel.

He felt a pang of guilt sharp enough to cut through his headache. He had come here to tell her... to reassure her. Instead, he had collapsed on her floor like a dramatic invalid.

"I made her worried again," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "I am supposed to be the shield, not the burden."

He turned his head to the side.

His breath caught in his throat.

Ines was there.

She was sitting on the floor beside the bed. She had rested her arms on the mattress, burying her face in the crook of her elbow to use it as a pillow. Her hair was loose, spilling over the white sheets like a river of silk.

She was asleep.

Carcel watched her. He forgot about his headache.

She looked exhausted. Even in sleep, her brow was furrowed slightly. She was still wearing her nightgown, and he noticed a small smudge of ink on her wrist. She must have been writing when he arrived.

She had nursed him all night. He realized with a jolt that he was undressed—wearing only his trousers—and his skin felt cool and clean. She must have washed the fever sweat from him. She must have sat in that uncomfortable position for hours, watching his chest rise and fall, terrified that he might not wake up.

Carcel’s heart swelled with an emotion so powerful it almost hurt. It wasn’t just desire. It was gratitude. It was awe.

He wanted to reach out and touch her hair. He wanted to wake her up and tell her that he loved her more than life itself.

But he hesitated.

"She must have been exhausted nursing me all night," he thought. "She needs rest. I should not disturb her."

He decided to get out of bed. If he could stand up, maybe he could carry her to the bed properly so she could sleep comfortably.

He shifted his weight. He tried to slide his legs toward the edge of the mattress. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Creeeak.

The bed frame groaned under his weight. Ines moved instantly.

She didn’t wake up slowly. She shot up like a soldier hearing a cannon blast. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and panicked.

She looked at the empty pillow where his head had been. Then she looked at him, sitting up.

"You’re awake!" she exclaimed.

Her voice was thick with sleep, but it beamed with joy. The fear in her eyes vanished, replaced by a light that warmed Carcel down to his bones.

"Ines..." Carcel began, his voice raspy.

Ines didn’t let him finish. She scrambled up from the floor, not caring about dignity. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for him immediately.

"How are you feeling now?" she asked, her hands fluttering over him.

She placed the back of her hand against his forehead. She held it there for a long moment, biting her lip in concentration.

Carcel closed his eyes at her touch. Her hand was cool and soft. It felt like heaven.

"It is normal now," Ines announced, letting out a huge breath of relief. Her shoulders slumped. "The fever is gone. You were burning so hot, Carcel. I thought... I didn’t know if the water was working."

She grabbed his wrist, checking his pulse.

Then she looked at his chest, inspecting the bruises he had gotten from the fight.

"This one looks purple," she fussed, touching a spot on his ribs gently. "And your shoulder... the skin was scraped. I put ointment on it, but I should probably add more..."

Carcel watched her with overwhelming gratitude. She was rambling. She was worried.

She reached for his bandaged hand.

"And your knuckles," she said, frowning at the linen. "I hope I wrapped them tight enough. I didn’t want to cut off the circulation, but Edith said—"

Carcel moved.

He caught her hand in his. His grip was firm, stopping her frantic examination.

Ines froze. She looked up at him, shocked.

"Carcel?"

He didn’t speak. He simply pulled. He pulled her forward.

Ines gasped as she lost her balance. She tumbled forward, landing softly in his lap.

She tried to push back up. "Carcel, you are injured! You shouldn’t be straining—"

"Hush," he whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, trapping her there. He didn’t let her go. He held her hands—the hands that had cleaned him, medicated him, and saved him—and brought them to his lips.

He kissed her knuckles.

He kissed her palm.

He kissed the ink stain on her wrist.

Ines stopped moving. She stopped talking. She stared at him, her breath hitching in her throat.

Carcel looked up at her. His eyes were clear and serious.

"Thank you," he said.

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything that had happened between them.

"I don’t know what I would have done without you," he confessed. He leaned his forehead against hers. "Some men attacked Gladys but she’s safe now."

Ines reached up and touched his face, tracing the line of his jaw.

"You are a fool," she whispered, though she was smiling through her worries. "Riding in the night without a coat. You scared me to death."

"I know," Carcel said. "I am sorry."

He pulled her closer. He buried his head in the soft fabric of her nightgown, resting his face against her stomach. He just needed to hold her. He needed to feel her warmth to banish the last of the chill from his memory.

Ines wrapped her arms around his head, stroking his dark hair. They sat there in the silence of the morning, bathed in sunlight, survivors of a long, dark night.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

A soft, hesitant sound came from the door.

Carcel stiffened. His head snapped up. The peaceful bubble burst instantly.

Ines froze, her hand still in his hair. They looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Who is it?" Carcel mouthed silently.

Ines pointed to the door. She quickly scrambled off his lap, smoothing down her nightgown. She tried to make her voice sound normal, though her heart was pounding. She started unwrapping Carcel’s bandage.

"Who is it?" She asked.