Thank you so much for your continued support for this story. Posting daily is a lot of fun, but the break was nice. My granddaughter and I had a lovely time, though it did take me a while to get the crumbs out of my keyboard and wipe off the sticky juice and glitter before I could use my computer again!

I think you'll enjoy this chapter. It has some sad moments but some sweet ones also.

xx Elise

~P&P~

Chapter 12

Compromised

Caring for Edward reminded Isabella of the one and only time she was invited on a hunt. One minute, she was enjoying the thrill of galloping flat out across an open plain, a pack of baying hounds off in the distance and the thunder of hooves echoing in her ears. The next, she was flying over a log—side-saddle, no less—a style of riding she had only had opportunity to attempt a few times. Unsurprisingly, she ended up sprawled in a creek and requiring rescue. It was not one of her more pleasant memories, though it had certainly been exciting.

Time spent with Edward shared similar degrees of highs and lows with his moods swinging like a lantern in a storm. While she understood his insistence that Seth be the one to assist him with his more personal care, there was no excuse for reverting to his previous use of profanity. Unfortunately, his language turned all colours of the rainbow when she offered to demonstrate the correct way to massage the healing liniment into his thigh.

"I am sorry if you feel robbed of your dignity, my lord, but you are making altogether too much fuss. I performed this service twice a day for ten days while you were unconscious." Her reminder earned a particularly piquant curse, and she huffed. "You have said yourself that your leg is more mobile than it was before your arrival, but the treatment must be done properly to garner the most benefit. Seth needs a demonstration."

"Miss Swan 'as the right of it, my lord," the footman said. "What with me 'aving a few fingers missing, I think a demonstration would be wise."

"Miss Swan can demonstrate on somebody else."

"Very well." Isabella turned to the only other available candidate. "Seth, drop your trousers."

"Dawkins, you will do no such thing!" Edward roared.

Isabella placed her hands on her hips.

"I have to demonstrate on somebody, my lord."

"Not on my valet," he muttered, throwing the blanket off his right leg and dragging a pillow over his groin. "Damned impossible woman."

Isabella rolled her eyes. She had no intention of going near his private area. The man took modesty to ridiculous lengths.

Her pique at Edward's overreaction passed when she discovered massaging his thigh while he was awake was not the same as performing the task when he was insensate. Acutely aware of his warm, bare flesh beneath her fingers, she began to feel quite unlike her typically pragmatic self. To her embarrassment, her voice shook when she told Seth to take over. Excusing herself, Isabella fought the urge to run from the room.

Fortunately, Edward could also be congenial in his manner. Having shared his extraordinary tale, he was keen to have her input on matters relating to the manor and estate. The respect he showed her opinion was gratifying, and she enjoyed her new role as his interim personal secretary. When her patient was reluctantly forced to rest, she spent her time making lists and writing letters to bankers, lawyers, current and retired officer friends of Edward, and various tradespeople. He insisted she send requests for specific individuals to meet with him at their soonest convenience, a topic that put an end to their truce.

"It is too soon." She gave him a censuring look. "If you become overtired, you could suffer a setback."

"I need to speak with the authorities, and the sooner I employ a new estate manager, someone I can trust, the sooner I can begin to set things right."

"An admirable endeavour, my lord, but the problems have existed for many years. They shan't be fixed overnight."

"All the more reason not to waste time," he insisted before his expression turned pleading. "I need your help, Miss Swan. Dawkins has trouble writing, and I doubt any of the new maids or footmen have the requisite penmanship."

"Oh, all right," she said with a shake of her head. "But at least allow Mr and Mrs Cope and me to handle the preliminary interviews."

He relented, and the Copes carried most of the burden when it came to enlightening the magistrate from Thornton as to events spanning the previous decade. The man had been suspicious for quite some time but powerless to do anything, as he had assumed the current Viscount Masen was party to proceedings.

"Might I suggest you maintain the status quo for the meantime, my lord?" the magistrate asked, regarding the mines that were running illegally, their titles and permits having been forged. "I'm pleased to hear you plan to address the lack of safety, but you would cause much suffering if you shut them down cold."

Edward grimaced then gave a reluctant nod. "I'll be needing workers to get the farms producing and to begin repairs on the neglected cottages and buildings. As soon as I have a new manager in place, I will have him inform the mineworkers that those who would rather be employed in farming or construction may make the change. It will take time to determine if the mines can be made safe, but I will keep them operating if possible."

The magistrate's expression turned thoughtful. "May I spread word of your intentions? There is a lot of uncertainty in the district between your unexpected return and Crowley's disappearance. This news will go a long way towards allaying the workers' fears."

"Do what you think is best."

"Thank you, my lord. Your return home is welcome, indeed."

The magistrate bowed and departed, leaving Isabella alone with Edward.

"Rest," she ordered, placing a hand to his brow. "You have gone quite grey."

"Yes, Miss Swan." He captured her hand before she could move away, and his eyes closed almost immediately. Affected by both the sight and feel of their entwined fingers, Isabella waited until she was sure he was asleep before she reluctantly withdrew.

~P&P~

Three days passed before Alice sent word she would be coming to check on the viscount. News had already reached the manor that her patients, the mother and child burned in the fire, had not survived their terrible injuries. The infant had died the first night, and the mother earlier that morning. Isabella waited in the parlour and wordlessly drew her friend into her arms upon her arrival.

"You did everything you could," she murmured, suspecting Alice's tears were the first she had allowed herself. "Was it very bad?"

Alice straightened and removed a handkerchief from her reticule. "Yes, very," she said, releasing a ragged breath. "I have scrubbed myself raw, but I can still smell the smoke and the . . ."

Isabella knew what her friend had been about to say. If Isabella hadn't been busy caring for Edward, Alice might have asked for her assistance. It wouldn't have been the first time she had stood by, horrified and helpless, while her friend tried to ease a patients' suffering. The smell of burned flesh was not something one ever forgot.

Alice squared her shoulders. "How is the viscount?"

"He is much improved," Isabella said with a smile. "I removed the stitches a few days ago, and he is working tirelessly to restore the use of his arm. A little too tirelessly. He is very determined and more difficult to manage than a gaggle of Rosalie's orphans."

Just as Isabella hoped, Alice laughed. "If he wasn't such a stubborn individual, I doubt he would have survived. Has he lost much movement or sensation?"

"Quite a bit, I'm afraid." Isabella's heart ached to think of it. "He can't bend his wrist back or fully straightening his elbow, and there's some tingling and numbness down the outside of his arm extending to the tip of his thumb and his first two fingers."

"I see." Alice released a breath then straightened her shoulders. "Considering the extent of his injury, it is a wonder he has any movement at all. How is he coping with the loss?"

"A bear with a sore tooth comes to mind."

"He may improve with exercise. We'll just have to prevent him from overdoing it while the wound continues to heal."

"Good luck with that," Isabella muttered.

"He's not wasting any time bringing the old place to life." Alice gestured to the bevy of servants, those passing by in the hallway and the ones visible in the gardens through the parlour windows, all in the process of restoring the manor to its former glory.

"He has given instructions only to open up the central wing of the house but, believe me, it is a large enough undertaking. I don't think it is a stretch to say the manor could house the entire village."

The two women exchanged glances. The cottage Alice shared with her elderly aunt was little more than two tiny rooms, and the vicarage was modest by any standards. Even the stately home Alice had been raised in, Brandon House, paled in comparison to the grandeur and scale of Masen Manor.

"Whatever will he do with himself, rattling around in this monstrosity?"

Isabella felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of Edward living all alone in the rambling mansion, a full retinue of servants notwithstanding.

"There is an impressive library," she said in response to Alice's mostly rhetorical question. "I am not sure if the viscount will want to open up the ballroom. It is very grand, but I don't imagine dancing will be on his agenda. Once the gardens are restored, the manor could hold the most spectacular house parties. What? What is it?" Isabella asked, catching sight of Alice's scowl.

"Pray tell, whom are you picturing in the role of the viscount's hostess?"

"Not me, if that's what you're inferring. I am just saying the place has lots of potential."

"And the man? You are a compassionate soul, Isabella, but you mustn't delude yourself. The only potential in a relationship with the viscount is for disaster."

"Everybody needs a friend, Alice. You of all people should know that." As soon as the words left her mouth, Isabella regretted them, but her companion merely raised a brow.

"A friend?"

"Yes, a friend. You can hardly begrudge me. It is not as if a man such as the viscount would want anything more from a woman like me."

"Oh, don't start that again." Alice flicked her fingers. "He hardly deserves the pedestal you have placed him upon. Aside from the fact he is cursed, the man isn't even remotely attractive."

Isabella held her tongue, deciding to allow Alice to draw her own conclusions regarding Edward's transformation. Shaving off his beard had rattled her composure, but the haircut he had received from the barber the afternoon before, revealing a fashionable degree of curl, had left her reeling. He was yet to request a second shave, but not even the stubble that now adorned his jaw detracted from his rugged good looks. As far as Isabella was concerned, his facial scar was barely an issue.

~P&P~

"Lord Masen, may I introduce Miss Alice Brandon?"

Isabella curtsied, the first time she had done so without his interjection or complaint. Alice hesitate a moment before copying the action, first needing to snap her mouth shut.

Dressed in a white ruffled shirt, black breeches, and soft-leather slippers, all retrieved from storage and previously belonging to his father, Edward was seated in the chair beside the bed. Awake, alert, and at least somewhat more decently attired, the combination of his military and noble bearing was unmistakable.

"How do you do, Miss Brandon?" He bowed his head. "Please forgive me for not properly offering my respects. It has been a tiring morning, and I fear I would need Miss Swan's help to stand, which would rather defeat the purpose."

"That's perfectly all right, my lord," Alice said then shot Isabella a look. "It is a pleasure to formally meet you and good to see you looking so well."

"Thanks to your skill as a healer and Miss Swan's excellent nursing care."

Edward's smile could only be described as charming, and an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of Isabella's stomach.

"May I examine your arm?" Alice asked, a surprising hint of deference in her manner.

"Of course." Edward unbuttoned his shirt and slipped the sleeve off his shoulder.

"I think we need to remove your shirt altogether," Alice said after struggling to unwrap the bandage.

"I'll do it." Isabella stepped forward, ignoring Alice's startled expression. Seth would normally have been the one to help Edward with his attire, but Isabella had excused him to take his morning tea. Her fingers skimmed over Edward's heated skin, and she raised a hand to his brow.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You feel warm."

"It's nothing." He glanced aside, colour rising in his cheeks. "I have been sitting here exercising my arm . . . if one can call it exercise."

"That explains it, then."

His gaze returned to Isabella, and they shared a smile before she helped him remove his shirt.

"Might I have permission to inspect my patient now?"

Alice eyed Isabella reprovingly, and she stepped back. Realising she had been behaving in a possessive manner, she crossed to the writing desk she had requested be set up by the window.

"I don't think you will get back the full use of your thumb and first two fingers," Alice said after examining Edward's arm. "The nerve has been damaged that runs to that part of your hand, I'm afraid."

"But there is some sensation and a little movement. The damned, I mean darned"—he sighed heavily, shooting Isabella an apologetic look—"thing can certainly feel pain."

"Stranger things have happened," Alice agreed mildly, but her expression remained doubtful. "It is a miracle you survived such an injury. Who knows? I suppose the Lord could have another in store."

"More miracles?" Edward looked to Isabella.

"Keep working it," Alice said. "The more you build up the muscles in your arm and hand, the better. But don't overdo it."

Isabella harrumphed, and Edward's lip curled in a smirk.

"Anything else?" he asked, returning his attention to Alice when she remained silent.

"No, that's all." Her gaze flickered from Edward to Isabella and back again. "Rest, gentle exercise, and keep rubbing in the liniments I've prepared. How is the leg?"

The heat Isabella felt in her cheeks matched the colour that rose to Edward's, and she was relieved when he didn't look her way this time.

"Much better," he said gruffly.

"Excellent." Alice nodded. "You can leave the bandage off the arm, as the wound will benefit from some fresh air. I suggest you remove the sleeves from a shirt or two to keep them from becoming stained by the ointment or any residual discharge."

"You will see to it?" he asked when Isabella crossed to his side to help him with his shirt. The ones Edward was wearing were well out of date, so sacrificing them would be no great loss.

"Of course." Isabella's smile faded when she saw the way her friend had drawn her lips into a grim line.

"Miss Swan will return shortly, my lord. I have something to give her, but I have left it downstairs."

Alice had only brought the one bag, the one she was holding. Suspecting Alice's words were a ruse, Isabella wasn't surprised when her friend turned on her the moment the bedroom door closed behind them.

"You promised me," Alice hissed before grabbing Isabella by the arm and dragged her along the wide carpeted hallway until they reached a recently prepared guest bedroom.

"Promised you what?"

"That you wouldn't become infatuated with your patient." She released Isabella and began to pace. "I warned you to beware. Nursing a man creates a false sense of intimacy, which can be dangerous enough, but this particular gentleman is not a safe prospect for matrimony. You cannot fall in love with him."

"Love?" Isabella stared at her friend, aghast. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Have you?" Alice's green eyes flashed. "I saw the way you were looking at him. You were jealous when I started to remove his shirt."

Isabella was shocked to silence, eventually responding in a whisper, "I'm not. I, I wasn't."

Feeling faint, she sat heavily on the bed. The thought of Edward believing that she, the daughter of a lowly vicar and a spinster at that, was pining over him was too dreadful to bear. Her purpose had been to help him, nothing more.

"Do you think he noticed?"

Alice crossed her arms. "He was too busy ogling you to notice much of anything."

A flicker of something warm ignited in Isabella's chest. "You think. Do you think he might have feelings for me?"

"Of course not." Alice's eyes widened with alarm. "The man's a lecher. He was even pouring on the charm with me."

Isabella didn't believe for one minute that Edward was guilty of lechery, but she couldn't deny he had been particularly gracious when greeting her friend. Alice was a beautiful woman and might have made an excellent match if she were not devoid of dowry and burdened by the stigma of illegitimacy. To Isabella's horror, a stab of jealousy twisted her gut once more.

"Oh my, you are right," she murmured. "My sentiments run deeper than mere friendship would allow. It is time for me to leave Masen Manor."

Alice nodded. "That is probably wise."

"He has Seth to help him, and his military valet will be arriving soon. The manor is almost fully staffed, and Edward—I mean, the viscount—expects to have a new estate manager employed shortly."

"He will be well taken care of."

"Yes, of course."

Tears welled in Isabella's eyes, and she blinked them back. She was a mature woman, prone to neither weeping nor histrionics, but the thought of saying goodbye to Edward caused a pain in her heart she suspected would remain with her for a very long time.

~P&P~

Oh no! She's thinking of leaving him! Who thinks he'll let her go without putting up a fight?

The fox hunt story at the beginning is a true one...mine. It was many years ago when I was a reasonably accomplished horsewoman (well, I could stay on if the ground was flat). The hounds were running down a kangaroo (beggars can't be choosers, I guess) which I thought was horrible. When I spotted the poor roo, I took the risk of pointing in the opposite direction and shouting the requisite, 'Tally Ho!', sending the hunt on a wild goose chase, not that we had any of those either! My good deed didn't save me from an ignominious and painful fall shortly thereafter, or maybe it was punishment for my deception? Needless to say, it was my first and only hunt. ;)

xx Elise,

PS Anyone else suspect Edward had a reason other than excessive modesty for where he positioned the pillow while she massaged his upper thigh?