Tonight, he was not worried about saying the wrong thing. There was onlyone thinghe needed to say, and that she needed to hear:
“I love you, Cassie,” he whispered as he held her.
She settled back into his embrace. “I love you, too, Wade.”
CHAPTER FORTY
He brought her tea with milk and sugar—exactly like Mama used to make. Sometimes, Cassandra drank it, though it often grew cold as she fought back nausea. She mostly slept a great deal, thanks to her hot water bottle and ‘soothing syrup’.
Cassandra recalled writhing and shivering, but somehow there was always a warm blanket added to the bed. She never needed to lift a finger, as Wade saw to her needs. He had even consulted with Dr. Goff, who’d come to call on their patient below stairs. The physician prescribed beefsteak, cow’s liver, and fresh fish to replenish Cassandra’s lost blood.
She ate, slept, and even bathed. The copper submersion tub had been a godsend. Hot water penetrated her cramps where the stoneware bottle failed. A steaming bath enveloped her in a warm embrace, taking the pressure off her muscles, relieving the swelling in her pelvic area.
Wenna washed and dried her mistress like a child. Cassandra was fussed over, catered to, and—when she needed it—left alone to rest.
All in all, her week of suffering had not been as miserable as expected.
Wade had stayed with her, getting up during the night to refresh her hot water bottle, massage her back, soothe her tears, or simply hold her as she fought through the pain. His devotion never wavered. Even through the worst of it, his hand was never far from hers.
Once, she had awakened in another room. Midway through her menses, Cassandra found herself enveloped in the softest mattress, wrapped in the most luxurious linens. The curtained bed had blocked out all light that might hurt her eyes.
“Wade…”she had called, softly.
“I’m here, Cassandra.” He pulled back one flap of the bed-hangings to reveal his shadowy face despite the afternoon sun.
She tried to spy the room beyond, but had no energy to fully explore. She could only recline against the mountain of pillows he’d provided. “Where am I?”
“We are in my room. This is my bed. I hoped you’d be more comfortable here.”
“I’m very comfortable, thank you.” She noticed a folded newspaper in his hand. “What are you reading?”
He glanced down at the paper. “There are some rather interesting things happening in the German War. It seems the northern states are seeking to form a confederacy against those in the south.”
She remembered poor Princess Helena had recently wed a German prince, and her two married sisters—Princesses Victoria and Alice—were in similar positions, to say nothing of the Prince of Wales, who was embroiled in the conflict through his own in-laws. “There is to be more fighting?”
“One step nearer to peace, ifthe Timesis to be believed.”
How fascinating! “Don’t throw that out. I want to read it when I’m better.”
“Surely, you’d prefer something more entertaining than the news…”
Cassandra shook her head. “I want to learn more about the world. There was precious little information available in Longstone. We did not getthe Times,you know.”
“Then I shall leave it on your chocolate tray at bedtime. You can tell me what you think of the North German Confederation.”
Wade bent to press a kiss upon her brow. He never admitted—though she later learned from Wenna—that the true reason for this relocation to his bedchamber was so the sheets could be changed in hers. Her lover was a true gentleman, risking his own costly linens.
A lesser man might’ve complained. He spoke to her of Prussian peace, instead.
She reached to touch his jaw. “Don’t go.”
Wade stilled above her, lips pressed to her forehead. “Shouldn’t you rest?”
“Yes, but…I always seem to sleep better knowing you’re near.”
He smiled and stripped off his jacket and boots. He climbed half-dressed into bed and crawled to the vacant side of the mattress. Once situated, Wade opened his arms to her.
Cassandra snuggled close to him and rested her cheek upon his chest. The warmth of his body soothed her swollen abdomen. The masculine, familiar scent of his shaving lotion filled her lungs as she closed her eyes. The room was silent save for the easy rhythm of his breathing and the occasional rustling of the newspaper as he turned a page.
