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shielding his face with his arms. Dimly he heard Celia s voice over his vicious curses.
Panic-stricken, Celia rushed to his writhing form. Oh, you stubborn fool, of course it is too soon for you
to see anything! Stop it, you ve hurt yourself!
He felt her touch his head and he shoved her away, maddened by the pain. Undaunted, Celia persisted
in prying his hands from his face, and she wrapped a towel over his eyes. Noeline entered the room,
having heard the commotion as she passed by. Her dark eyes took in the situation in one glance. Celia
looked at her wildly. A sedative, she said, somehow managing to sound calm. Quickly. Wordlessly
Noeline went to the dresser and poured fresh water into a glass. Justin groaned, feeling as if his eyeballs
had been ripped out.
Be still, Celia hissed into his ear, pulling his head against her soft shoulder. It was the only way to keep
him from doing more damage. You deserve this I told you not to take those bandages off! If you want
to be able to see again, you ll rest quietly and allow yourself time to heal!
Get the hell away from me& unfeeling bitch& he gasped, but his shaking arm stole around her waist
as if she were his only refuge. His breath burned through her dress like steam. She grasped the edge of
the sheet and yanked it over his naked body, feeling somehow protective of him. Ridiculous, considering
that Noeline had known him since the day he d been born.
Noeline brought the sleeping draft, and Celia took the glass in her free hand. Justin, drink this.
What is it? he asked through clenched teeth.
Something to help you. She forced it against his mouth until she heard the glass click against his teeth.
Some of the liquid sloshed onto her breast.
He choked a little and swore helplessly. No, goddamn
Drink this now, she said, her voice soft but unyielding.
He downed the contents of the glass in a few gulps, some of the liquid trickling from his chin to her
bodice. While Justin swallowed, Celia looked at Noeline despairingly. Please bring some more of that
balm you made for his eyes. And some clean strips of linen.
Noeline frowned at the pair on the bed as if such dramatic scenes were too much for her limited
patience. Oui,madame.
Celia set the glass aside and looked at the dark head cradled against her shoulder. Justin was quiet
except for his rough breathing. She could only guess at his suffering. His head dropped heavily against her
breast, then lifted as he tried to fight the oblivion stealing over him. Celia s aggravation was tempered by
a new feeling of tenderness. He was like a big, bad-tempered animal that lashed out at those trying to
help him. Justin, she said gently, cradling his head. It s all right. Rest now.
I won t be blind, he mumbled. I won t be& led around&
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No, you will be fine, she crooned. Quiet now. Quiet. She continued to murmur reassurances until he
sighed deeply and slumped against her, his arm loosening from around her waist.
They kept Justin sedated the next day, deciding that it was the only way to keep him still and allow his
wounds further time to mend. He is not going to make things easy for us, Lysette said ruefully. You
may have had experience with difficult patients in the past, Celia, but I assure you Justin will prove to be
the worst you ve ever encountered. Justin was too groggy to resist as Lysette and Celia administered
another small dose of laudanum.
Unfortunately, when Justin finally awakened he proved Lysette s prediction to be true. His mood was
ugly, every word spoken in a tone of pure meanness. He was even insulting to Lysette, snapping at her
irritably. Bring me something decent to eat, he growled. No more of this sickroom swill.
You can t have regular food yet.
Then don t bring me anything! To punctuate the sentence, he lifted a small bowl of clear broth in his
good hand and threw it across the room. Lysette left in a fury, sending up a frightened maid to clean the
mess.
Justin clasped his hand over his aching ribs as he heard the housemaid scuttling around the corner of the
room where the bowl had landed. His leg hurt. So did his shoulder and side and stomach. But worst of
all was the knifing pain in his head, a pain that drove deeper with every throb of his pulse. When he had
complained earlier, Noeline had offered to give him another sleeping draft, and he had cursed her out of
the room. He didn t want to sleep any more. He wanted to be able to get out of bed and move around,
he wanted his head to stop aching, and most of all he wanted to escape this relentless darkness.
You, he barked at the housemaid. Finish that and take a message to Madame Val to Celia. Tell her
she can t hide from me forever. He paused, thinking that the message might not be enough to get her up
to his room. And tell her the bandage on my side is slipping. It was a torturous ten minutes before he
heard Celia s footsteps and smelled her sweet fragrance.
You took your time, he sneered.
All your roaring and growling has upset the household, she said coolly. Noeline is muttering something
about evil loas, Lysette is red in the face, and the children are convinced we are keeping a monster in the
bedroom.
Devil take you all!
What is this about your bandage? She bent over him, pushed the sheet down enough to view his side.
It is not slipping. She noticed the deep lines on his forehead, and her voice softened. Your head aches,
doesn t it? After your tantrums I am not surprised. Here, I will change your pillow.
He grunted in assent. Gently she lifted his head, pulling away the flattened pillow and replacing it with a
fresh one. She moved around the bed, straightening the sheets, then opened the window to allow a
cooling breeze into the room. Are you thirsty?
Thirsty? Not when someone s pouring some foul liquid down my gullet every
Would you like me to read to you? she interrupted.
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