Julius chuckled. “It is completely unintentional, I assure you.”
After escorting the doctor out, he went into the dining room and had a cup of coffee to bide his time while awaiting Gory. He expected it would take a bit of doing before she was ready because she needed a good soak in a tub to thoroughly wash her body. She could not wash her hair because of the stitches, but the maid would do it up properly for her.
To his surprise, Gory walked downstairs on her own before he had finished his first cup. He set it down with a clatter and leaped from his seat. “Did you risk coming down the stairs on your own? Why did you not ask for help?” he muttered.
“I am not an infant.” She cast him that stubborn look again. “I was careful.”
He snorted.
“I held onto the railing and took the steps slowly and deliberately.”
“You could have blacked out and toppled down the entire length of the staircase.”
“But I didn’t. I know the workings of my body, Julius. I would not have attempted it if I did not feel strong enough.”
“You think you are as mighty as a lion,” he grumbled, offering her the seat beside his.
She settled into it with ease and smiled at the footman who poured her a cup of tea. “I am hardly mighty. The top of my head barely reaches your shoulders and I am half your size. Physically, you are the lion and I am but a mouse.”
He laughed. “You are no mouse, either. A mongoose, perhaps.”
“I resent that!” But she laughed. “All right, I never was a timid, nibbling little thing. In fact, I am starved.”
This was good, he supposed.
He liked that she had regained her appetite.
Still, a mere day of healing was not enough to trust she was fit again.
He had to admit she looked beautiful though.
She wore the gown of dark green wool that she had taken out of Adela’s wardrobe yesterday. The gown itself had little adornment. The only splash of color was the striking white of her fichu.
The fichu was a necessary attachment, he realized, because Gory’s bosom was ample and a little too much cleavage would have spilled over had it not been properly hidden by that strip of lacy cloth.
Although meant to ensure modesty, the fichu actually drew his gaze straight to her bosom.
Now his body was out of kilter.
He grabbed her plate and went to the silver salvers on the sideboard to serve her.
“I’ll have a little of everything,” she called to him. “Do not stint. Pile it high.”
He laughed. “All right, but do not overdo it. You’ll just give yourself a bellyache and I’ll have to bring you back home.”
“Never!” she said as he set the plate before her. “We are not coming back here until we’ve made every stop.”
“Stubborn chit,” he muttered, watching her devour the eggs he had piled on. She then dunked a biscuit into her tea and devoured that, too.
She nodded to the footman once she had eaten her fill.
The man cleared away the remains of her meal.
Next, she turned to Julius with a winsome smile. “I am ready. Let’s be on our way.”
Julius had called for his carriage earlier and it was waiting for them when they stepped outside. The Thorne family’s trusted coachman, Hastings, was perched in the driver’s seat and nodded to him in greeting. “Morning, m’lord.”
“Good morning, Hastings. Drive slow, will you? Lady Gregoria is in delicate health.”
