Love Drives In by Barbara Cartland Page A

could help me."
    She shot him a quick look, full of renewed suspicion. His eyes met hers, as innocent as a baby's.
    "I do not trust you, my Lord," Dorina said slowly.
    "How can you not trust me?" he complained. "You nearly killed me."
    "I should have done."
    "You're a heartless woman."
    A faint smile touched her lips, but she suppressed it instantly.
    "Let me help you," she offered.
    She was forced to let him slip an arm around her shoulders as they made their way slowly upstairs as far as his door. There was something strangely sweet about the feel of his weight, half leaning on her.
    She was uncertain what to believe. She had been shocked at herself for throwing a punch at him in the Alhambra, and even more shocked at his fall, although she had realised even then that it had been mostly accidental.
    She knew he had struck his head, and had been dazed for long enough for her to be hauled away. But how serious was it? She was no fool. It was clear that he had thrown himself on her mercy now, as a way of keeping her here. He was hardly pretending otherwise. But behind the pretence, might he not really be hurt?
    On the landing she saw two shadowy figures, and was relieved to recognise Blake, the Earl's valet and the butler, both in their dressing gowns, summoned by the strange noises they had heard below.
    "Is something wrong, my Lord?" Blake asked anxiously.
    "Yes, his Lordship needs a doctor," Dorina said. "He has been set upon by footpads and viciously clubbed half to death."
    "No, that was just in your wishful dreams," the Earl murmured in her ear.
    "Be silent," she told him firmly, handing him over to the valet, while the butler went about summoning the doctor.
    At the last moment the Earl tightened his hand on her arm.
    "You won't go?" he asked, and, although his tone was light, the anxiety in his eyes was real.
    "Not until the doctor tells me you are well."
    She hurried away to her own room, and began to tear off her evening dress, which she knew she would never wear again.
    In its place she donned a severe, striped blouse, with a white collar. It had a faintly mannish air, and she wore it when she wanted to be businesslike. When she had buttoned it up to the throat she set to work on her hair, drawing it back firmly against her skull in the grimmest style she could imagine.
    She emerged just after the doctor had arrived. Blake informed her in hushed accents that Dr. Jones had just gone into his Lordship's room.
    "I put him to bed, miss. He was looking very pale, and groaning a lot."
    Inside his bedroom the Earl was still groaning until the doctor said,
    "You can stop that. It was just a little bump on the head."
    "It's going to do its work very nicely, though," the Earl growled. "I shall need at least a couple of days' perfect rest and careful nursing."
    "If you say so," the doctor said, grinning. "Do you want me to notify Lady Musgrove or any other of the – ?"
    "No," the Earl said explosively. "All that's over. Things are different now."
    "I see," the doctor said, slightly startled by the Earl's forceful tone.
    He eyed his patient, his head on one side and mused,
    "You used not to have to go to these lengths to secure a woman's interest."
    "I don't know what you're talking about," the Earl riposted.
    "Don't worry, I'll say all the right things."
    Seeing wrath in his patient's eye, the doctor hastened into the corridor where he was met by a young woman of quelling aspect.
    "I am his Lordship's secretary," she declared. "How is his Lordship? Is his head seriously hurt?"
    "He'll benefit from a few days' quiet rest in bed and careful nursing," the doctor recited obediently. "He can see any visitors that he pleases. I'm sure I can entrust him into your capable hands."
    As he departed, the doctor wondered who was the lady whom the Earl was trying to attract. Doubtless she was the kind of voluptuous, melting creature that he had often chosen in his colourful romantic career. But if she was intending to visit his sick-room,