A tap came to the door. “Come,” Maxwell called, and Archer entered, her worried expression dissolving instantly.
“Oh, God be praised, ma’am. You’re awake and sitting up too. I’ve hardly slept for worrying.”
Louisa smiled at the maid. “I’m rather sore and have a monstrous headache, but I think I’ll live.”
Archer beamed. “Very glad to hear it, ma’am. May I attend you? Freshen you up a little? Order some tea, perhaps? A bite of toast?”
“Oh, yes,” Louisa replied. “That sounds quite lovely.”
Maxwell rose. “Then I’ll leave you for now. The doctor should be here soon. I sent word to Highfield too, so I imagine your parents will be here before long as well.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back shortly. Do not leave this bed, understand?”
*
“Pulse is alittle elevated, but not alarmingly so.” The physician released Louisa’s wrist and snapped his fob-watch closed. “No fever to speak of at the moment, though that might yet change. Your clavicle is bruised, but I don’t believe it’s fractured. There’s not much to be done about it if it is. However, do nothing to aggravate it further. I suggest plain food for the next few days as well. Nothing too spicy or rich. Some broth. Perhaps a little fruit. A glass of wine or sherry is acceptable. Some warm milk and honey at bedtime, if you like.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Louisa replied. “When might I leave this bed?”
He grunted. “Not for three days at least, and that’s assuming all goes well.”
Louisa made a sound of dismay. “Three days? Surely not.”
The man peered at her over the top of his spectacles. “You’ve had a nasty tumble, young lady. You must rest. Give your body time to heal.”
Maxwell, who’d been watching the proceedings, folded his arms and arched a brow at Louisa. “Have no fear, good sir,” he said, “I’ll make sure she behaves.”
The man nodded. “Then I’m done here for now. Good day to you, Mrs. Harlow.”
“I’ll settle with you downstairs, Doctor.” Maxwell winked at Louisa as he followed the doctor from the room. “I won’t be long, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Fresh tears arose in Louisa’s eyes, and she quietly berated her foolishness, for her response had been brought about by nothing more than a wink from her husband. But then, her husband appeared to have undergone a startling transformation and, consequently, her emotions were all over the place.
“He loves me,” she whispered, and released a happy, but weary, sigh. Although she’d carped about a three-day confinement to bed, she knew she was in no condition to leave it. Archer’s administrations—making Louisa as presentable as a lady could be under the circumstances—and the doctor’s examination, had left her utterly exhausted.
She closed her eyes and drifted into a sound sleep.
*
When next Louisaawoke, it was to the sight of her mother sitting beside the bed, and her father and Maxwell standing by the window, the two of them speaking in hushed tones.
Grace inhaled sharply and reached over to stroke Louisa’s hair. “There you are, dearest. How are you feeling?”
“Um.” She shifted slightly and winced. “A little bit sore, Mama.”
The men’s whispered conversation had halted, and her father spoke. “What a business,” he said, and moved to stand beside the bed, gazing down at her with obvious concern. “Thank God you’re all right. You gave us quite the scare.”
“Sorry, Papa,” she said, wincing again. “Believe me, it was not intentional.”
Her father grunted. “I understand you think Byron was startled by someone. Is that so?”
“Er…” Louisa’s eyes flicked briefly to Maxwell, who gave her a resigned smile. “I’m not sure, Papa.”
“Aldous, please, allow the child a moment to gather herself,” Grace said, frowning. “Are you thirsty, dear? Could you manage some tea? Or some broth, perhaps?”
“Some tea would be lovely, Mama.” Louisa winced as she shifted again. “And I should like to sit up a little, please.”
“Of course.” Her mother leaned over and arranged Louisa’s pillows. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.”
