Ellen slept through the night, the sleep of the weary. When she woke, the grey rays of morning crept through the window. She'd fallen on the bed with her clothes on, so she scrambled up, quickly washed her face and hurried into Noni's room.
Edmund was sitting in an armchair with his arms crossed and seemed to be dozing. The room still smelled wonderful and there were a number of small vials on the table.
His eyes opened as she approached the bed.
"The fever's broken," he said when he saw her.
Noni was asleep, his face covered with spots, his forehead wet with sweat.
"Thank you for staying with him all night. The nurse can take over the next shift."
Edmund got up and stretched.
The scarlet robe flowed around him and suited him so much better than the colourful padded vests he usually wore.
"I say. This little fellow will be well soon," he said.
"Thank you," Ellen whispered.
Edmund lifted his hand and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Everything will be well," he repeated.
Ellen knew he wasn't just talking about Noni.
She took his hand in hers and turned it. With her index finger, she gently drew the letter A into his palm.
He inhaled sharply.
"This is the letter A." Then she drew all the letters of the alphabet into his palm.
His breath had quickened.
He pulled his hand back and clenched it into a fist.
"I can teach you, if you want," she whispered.
He stepped back and left the room quietly.
Ellen looked after him with a squeeze in her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Noni's illness, fortunately, wasn't severe, and the doctor said he would recover soon.
In the meantime, they had to wait. It was odd for Edmund to be back at Penwick Park after all this time. Everything was familiar, yet strange to him. So much had changed; yet what had changed the most was himself. He'd grown up. He saw everything through fresh eyes; how efficiently his brother cared for the estate, and how lovingly his mother managed the house and the flower gardens.
Ellen loved to walk in the magnificent gardens, where the shrubs were trimmed into neat geometric shapes. Sometimes Edmund would accompany her, and they'd walk in silence, or he'd tell her stories about growing up in Penwick Park. She'd throw her head back and laugh, lightening his heart. Edmund wanted her to laugh more. He wanted to see her mouth curl into a smile, her eyes light up, her head tossed back to reveal a long, creamy throat. He wanted to plant a series of light kisses along that throat, down to the delicious little dent between her collarbones and then further down…
They no longer shared a room here at Penwick Park, and he had not visited her in her chambers. He realised with a pang that he missed the room at Dobberham Mansion, where they'd been thrown together.
He missed her, even though she was standing right in front of him.
Unbearable if she were to leave.
Unbearable if he ever lost her.
Desire and confusion rushed through him.
He pulled his arm away from her hand as he interrupted her mid-sentence. "I must go."
