“Adèle,” he murmured, and opened his eyes. Even doing that took great physical effort.
She had dark eyes and dark hair, worn rather formally in a topknot with wavy tendrils at her temples and neck.She wore no makeup. She was wearing a dress of someflimsy stuff, low and scooped at the neckline, drawn in bya wide ribbon beneath her breasts. The sleeves were shortand puffed. Empire style, he thought. Regency.
She was looking at him with such naked love in her eyes that his heart turned over.
Adèle?How did he know her name? How had he known he would open his eyes to see her? How did he know heloved her more than life?
“John?” She released her hand from his and lifted it to his face. She set the backs of her fingers against his forehead. They felt cool. He saw the ring on her finger—therings. They both looked very shiny and new. “You slept for a while. The fever seems to have cooled a little. Would you like a drink? Water? Lemonade?”
He did not want her to have to leave the room. She could fetch water from the bathroom. Had he had the flu? ‘‘Water,please,” he said.
She sat up and got off the bed and reached out to pull a strip of silk beside the bed. Of course, he thought, his eyesfollowing her movements. One of the servants would bringit. And, yes, definitely Regency. Her dress—it was madeof muslin—fell soft and straight to the floor from beneathher bosom. She was small—he knew that he had to raisehis chin only a little to be able to rest it on the top of herhead when they were both standing.
His eyes roamed the room, seeing with a curious mixture of surprise and recognition the ornate canopy above thebed, the finely carved bedposts, the velvet curtains, whichwere pulled back so that he could see the rest of the room.He could see the ornate Adam furniture, the gilding on thehigh ceiling.
He must have dozed again for a few moments. She was taking a glass from a tray held by a maid—the same maidwho had removed the blood-spotted cloths some time ago.
Flu?He had been coughing blood.
She turned back to the bed with a smile. He had never seen such luminous tenderness in anyone’s face as therewas in hers. She half knelt, half sat beside him and liftedhim—there seemed to be no strength in him at all—untilhis head nestled on her shoulder. The water tasted good,though it was not very cold. He half expected to feel it burnhis throat, but it did not. He drew a deep and careful breath,expecting to feel a burning in his lungs, but he did not.
“Thank you,” he said. “You are an angel, pure and simple, Adèle.”
“You will feel better for the rest,” she said. “The journey was a long and rough one, John. It was madness to come so far. But I know now what you meant about thisplace.” Her cheek was resting against the top of his head.“Itisthe loveliest place on earth. And I am glad we came.I think you will get better here.”
He could tell from the bright warmth of her voice that she did not believe her own words. He was dying. He hadcome here to die.
“I already feel better,” he said.
What he did feel was strange—a massive understatement. A few minutes ago he had been lying in this very room with another woman—with Allison, his fiancee. Bothroom and woman had changed. Even he was different. Hecould see his legs encased in tight pantaloons with silkstockings instead of in jeans and socks. He could see hiswaistcoat. He had seen the ruffles of his shirt cuffs whenhe had lifted his hand briefly to the glass—and his handwas thin and emaciated. Yet he knew he was not asleep.And he knew he was not mad. Heknewall this though hismind was sluggish on the details.
He saw her rings again when she set the glass down beside the bed. She washis wife.He held out his hand toher on the bed and she placed hers in it. He raised it to hislips and kissed the sapphire of her ring. Damn, but he wasweak.
“But I should not have done this,” he said.
He was not quite sure what he meant by the words, but she knew, all right. He could hear the tears in her voicewhen she spoke. “John,” she said, “please do not. Pleasedo not keep on saying that. Iknowthat it was I who askedyou to marry me. It was unpardonably forward of me to doso, and I never would have done it if I had not thought thatperhaps you needed me.”
“Adèle,” he said.
“No,” she said. ‘‘Talking takes your energy. Just rest. Please rest, my dearest love. John, Iwantedto marry you.More than anything else in this world. I love you so verydearly. I have always loved you, from the moment youlifted me down from that stile when I was four and youwere eight and the other children were jeering because Iwas stuck and frightened.”
He smiled at the memory of the infant with the soft baby curls and huge eyes.
The memory?
“This is what I have always dreamed of,” she said. “Being your wife, John. Being with you like this. I do not care for how long—” She broke off suddenly and he could hearher distress in the silence. “But you are going to get better.I know you are. I feel it. I am going to make you better.They said you needed a dry, warm climate and so you wentoff to Italy for a whole year and came back worse. I do notcare what they say. This place will be good for you. AndI will be good for you.”
He pulled on her hand until she was lying beside him again. He turned onto his side to face her.
“Youaregood for me,” he said. “You are all I could ever need, Adèle. How foolish I was to go to Italy andwaste a whole year I might have spent with you. But nomatter. We have the rest of our lifetimes together.”
Her eyes were bright with tears, brimming with love. The rest of a lifetime. How much longer did he have? A fewweeks? A few days? And yet, weak as he felt, he did notfeelill.He should, shouldn’t he? He had tuberculosis—consumption. Didn’t he?
“How long have we been married?” he asked her.
She looked frightened for a moment. Perhaps she thought he was delirious. Then she smiled. She had a dimple in themiddle of her right cheek. It had been there since she wasa child—How did he know that?
“For shame,” she said. “Have you forgotten the number of days? But it was a long journey for you—four days,with the wedding just the day before we set out. It has beenfive days and four hours, sir. We are an old married couple.”
