“How long?” she croaked.
“Two days. The physician came by yesterday again and said you were through the worst of it, but I confess, I thought you would never be free of it.” He stretched, and she noted once again that he had been on a chair by her bed.
He had been resting beside her bed.
Fortwodays?
“Don’t frown,” he told her, and she realized some of her thoughts must be showing on her face. “And don’t fret. I have something for you.” He held out a large, rounded orange, which she stared at, uncomprehendingly. “If I cut this into segments, will you eat it?”
An orange? She knew they were not so rare in London now—the Duchess of Fenwick even had a pineapple adorning her dining table for a few weeks before she had deigned to eat it. And she often ate bananas. Yet still, Aurelia couldn’t help staring at the orange in wonder.
“Forme?” she croaked.
“I wouldn’t have sent for it merely for me.” He took a paring knife from the side and deftly cut it into quarters. Then, glancing at her, he cut each quarter in half. When finally satisfied, he handed her a piece, placing it directly into her mouth. His fingers brushed her lips, and she held back another shiver.
It was as though she had stepped into another world—one where she had married a man who cared for her, who knew how to be gentle and kind and considerate.
Her experience with the duke thus far had been far from that.
Yet as the tart, sweet flavor of the orange exploded on her tongue, she felt heady.
Sebastian rose and rang the bellpull. “Now that you’re awake, you ought to eat,” he said to her.
“I don’t understand,” she breathed around the peel against her teeth. “Why are you being so…niceto me?”
“Aurelia.” His tone went grave, and so did his eyes—great pools of somber dark. “Why do you suppose that I would fail to care for my wife? I was the one to bring you here, and you fell ill in my house.”
“But—” If the rumors were true about his first wife, then why would he go out of his way to stop it happening again?
Unless, of course, the rumors werenottrue. But he had made it so clear that he cared nothing for her. She was here as a breeding mare.
Well, she supposed one could not be a breeding mare if one was ill. And it would doubtless be difficult for him to find another wife after he had gone through all the trouble of locating her.
She closed her eyes, a trifle pained.
Sebastian strode to her side. “You think I am too proud to do the work myself? Is that it?” He sat on the mattress this time, his weight on the covers pressing her legs more firmly to the bed. “Or do you not think yourself worthy of my attention?”
Finally, she removed the orange skin from her mouth, having taken all the sweetness from its juice. “I thought you too dismissive of me and my role in this house to offer it to me,” she mumbled. “That has nothing to do with my perception ofmyworth.”
An expression crossed his face—if she hadn’t known better, she might have felt it was pain.
“It is true I have not been the best of husbands to you thus far. There is no happiness that might be found with me. But that doesn’t mean I care nothing for your well-being.” He possessed himself of her hand, and she had memories of this, too. Why had his touch been so gentle?
Everything felt so very confusing.
“I’m sorry for the things I said to you the last time we spoke,” he managed. “They were said in anger and not indicative of my true feelings.”
Well, what was she to say to that? She had wanted to set him down a peg or two, but instead, in the two days she’d been asleep, he had tumbled down himself; humbled and even apologized. Leaving her nothing to do now but accept it with as much grace as she could.
He had, after all, nursed her back to health.
“You were cruel,” she whispered pointedly. “And Idislikedit.”
“As well you might.”
“But… I do appreciate your apology. And I appreciate you staying here with me.” Her gaze flitted back to the chair, which must have been exceedingly uncomfortable. There had been no need for him to remain with her, especially when she had maids and others who would have taken his place—but he had.
Truth be told, she didn’t know how to feel about that.
