Pippa stayed by his bedside the entire morning. When Drimmel came in to shave him, he found her leaning against the bedpost, her hand in the Archduke’s. Both his eyebrows shot up.
“He is ill and requested me to stay,” she informed him quietly. “Some tea or hot soup would be good for him after he wakes.” She attempted to pull her hand away gently. But he grabbed her sleeve and held her back. “I have not given you leave to depart,” he mumbled. “Drimmel, she isn’t to set a foot outside of this room until I’m well again.”
Drimmel stared at Pippa with a puzzled frown.
“Kovacz is to cancel all the meetings for this day.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness. I’ll call a physician.”
Klemens dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand. “No physician.”
“Very well, Highness. I’ll bring some willow bark tea, and then soup,” Drimmel announced and withdrew.
After tea and soup, he seemed to improve. Colour returned to his cheeks, and his spirits lifted.
“You must relinquish my hand, otherwise I can’t attend to you,” Pippa informed him, after Drimmel had brought the soup, but he refused to let go. “In that case, feed yourself.”
“Very well,” he grumbled, and released her hand.
“Are these very important meetings you’ll be missing today?” Pippa enquired between two spoonfuls of soup.
“Nothing of importance. Lunch with the King of Denmark, tea at the British Embassy with Castlereagh and a soiree with some musical entertainment in the Metternich salon.”
“That sounds awfully important.” She lifted a napkin to dab at his chin.
“Trust me, they won’t be happy to have me sneezing and coughing all over the place. There, I’ve finished the soup. Won’t you tell me I was good?”
He had been unexpectedly good. He could have, if he’d wanted to, made things difficult, like he had previously—complained about the temperature of the soup, the taste, and that it was too little or too salted. But he’d allowed her almost docilely to feed him.
“You were.” She plumped up his pillow and arranged it behind his back.
“I’ll be sick for a while longer,” he said contentedly, “for I rather enjoy being fussed over by you.”
She placed her hand on his forehead. “Your temperature appears to have gone down somewhat, so I daresay you are not on your deathbed after all.”
“You are mistaken. I must have high temperature as I feel rather hot. My head hurts like a thousand blacksmiths are hammering on my skull. My entire body hurts, including my teeth. And look, I’m coughing something ferocious.” He coughed, and it sounded dry. “It might even be a lung disease. I need you to stay by my side and nurse me back to health.”
“You have a mere head cold, Your Imperial Highness, not the measles.”
“In that case, I’ll get up as I appear to be well enough to go about my duties.” He pushed back the blankets.
Pippa pushed him back. “I didn’t say you’re well enough to get up. I agree that some bed rest is in order.But you hardly need a nurse. I daresay by tomorrow you’ll be recovered.”
He shook his head emphatically. “No. I shall not make it through the night if you leave.”
“It’s barely afternoon, Your Imperial Highness.” She pulled the curtains aside, and the sunlight flooded through the windows. “I have many duties to attend to.”
He sighed. “How cruel you are. I am bedridden, suffering most terribly, yet, as you so cruelly claim, not ill enough to warrant a nurse. You’d rather leave me to attend to your duties, which, no doubt, must be something as important as sweeping the floor and dusting the chandeliers.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “It is important. I can’t let Henni do it all on her own.”
He massaged his temples. “Henni? Who is she? Ah, I remember. That timid-looking creature who is to help you clean. Is she sufficient help to you? Should I demand more? It’s terribly strenuous work to sweep floors and dust chandeliers,” he mused. “In fact, it’s outright dangerous. You truly ought not to do it on your own. In fact, I prohibit you from doing either of the activities.”
“But as your chambermaid, I must sweep the floors!” Never mind about the chandelier.
“I disapprove.” He shook his head. “No, no. This Henni henceforth shall sweep the floors and dust everything else in the room.”
It seemed he’d pivoted from his standpoint of making her do everything on her own to not wanting her to lift a finger.
