Danice Allen by Remember Me Read Free Book Online

moment.
    “Oh, la, milady,” she blurted, her cheeks aflame. “I’m sorry! I thought ’is lordship was knocked out from a bump to the noggin, or I’d not ’ave rushed in so—”
    The mobcapped, plump, fair-haired maid stopped midsentence. Her gaze had strayed to the face of the prone nobleman, prepared to be cowed by the angry look in his eyes for having interrupted a passionate interlude, but any idiot could see that the gentleman was in no condition for hanky-panky. He was out cold.
    The maid turned with a bewildered expression back to Amanda, frozen in the same precarious position she was in when the maid first entered the room. Amanda was sure her own complexion rivaled the chambermaid’s for rosiness.
    “This is not what it looks like—” Amanda began.
    “Now that I see that ’is lordship is truly knocked out,” said the maid, clearly confused, “I’m not sure what it looks like, milady.”
    “I need some help, you see—”
    The maid backed away to the door. “I’m sure I can’t help ye, milady.”
    Amanda gave a huff of exasperation, pushed herself up, and sat back on her heels. Still straddling one of the gentleman’s thighs, she put her hands on her hips and said with asperity, “Don’t be a ninny, girl. I was simply trying to take off the man’s —my husband’s —coat. I have to get him out of his wet clothes and into bed before the doctor arrives. I don’t know if you’ve ever undressed an unconscious man—”
    The maid’s eyes widened. “I’m very sure I ’aven’t, milady.”
    “—but it’s extremely difficult. Especially when he’s as large as this—er, my husband. Come here and help me get his coat off. Don’t worry, I shan’t expect you to help me with his trousers.”
    The maid set down the bundle of wood and cautiously approached. Amanda climbed off the bed and shook her skirts into respectability, then directed the girl in helping her remove the stranger’s coat, his cravat, and his dove-gray pinstriped vest with all its fobs and chains still attached. As it had been protected by the jacket and vest, his shirt was dry enough to leave on, and Amanda was grateful that she could in good conscience avoid stripping him down to his bare chest. His trousers were another matter, unfortunately. They were soaked through and had to come off.
    At this point the chambermaid excused herself, built up the fire with extra wood, then scrambled out of the room.
    “Coward,” muttered Amanda under her breath as the door shut behind the hastily retreating servant. She turned back to the bed and pursed her lips.
    “I daresay, my good man,” Amanda began musingly, “that I shall be able to pull off your trousers without putting myself to the blush again if I cover you first with a blanket. You might be wearing drawers, but then again perhaps you aren’t. I don’t intend to find out.” She paused, her brow wrinkling. “However I will have to unbutton your trousers before I can pull them off.”
    Hopeful that she was about to finish up what was proving to be the most awkward and unsettling experience of her life—ranking right up there with her terrifying introduction to Lady Jersey at Almacks—Amanda leaned over the bed and, with trembling fingers, proceeded to undo the man’s trouser buttons. She averted her gaze from the obvious bulge behind the buttons, and she tried not to think about the part of his anatomy her fingers worked so closely to.
    The shirt was still tucked in, so she was spared the embarrassment of seeing the man’s exposed abdomen. Still, she’d never expected in a dozen lifetimes to be in such an odd position—unbuttoning the pants of a strange man! And such a handsome one, too….
    Her eyes strayed to his face. Fear twisted in her stomach. He was as white as the pillow case. Even his pale scar stood out more glaringly. And he still hadn’t moved much or spoken at all since he’d called her a minx … mistakenly, of course. She was no more a minx than