A man who spoke to her heart and her soul without speaking at all. Odette once asked her about what kind of man she wished to marry. He fit the mark in every way, and in ways she could never even dream.
Since when did she prefer a hairy chest?
She preferred his, that was certain. He attracted her in ways she never expected, and though she longed to reach London and the safety of her family, she also feared that time. What truths would be revealed once they got there? How much time did they have left together?
He moved around the room with more energy and returned to his side of the bed. Willa jumped to her feet and went behind the screen to alleviate herself of her most urgent needs and put on her dress. There was a knock on the door, and she came out from behind the screen, quickly braiding her hair. He opened the door to reveal Dr. Smith.
“Good morning,” he said.
“My lord, I’m unsurprised to see you on your feet so soon.”
“I feel much better after your medicine. My wife and I have both enjoyed a sound sleep after a rather arduous journey.”
“I can only imagine,” the doctor said.
“No apprentice today?” Knightly asked.
“He is monitoring a woman in labor for me. This visit shouldn't take long. I'm just going to check the progress of the wound and see if the swelling has gone down in that time. Has the fever broke?”
He shrugged. “I can't feel my forehead.”
The doctor chuckled. “Lie down and I'll examine you.”
Willa waited, chewing her fingernail as the doctor went through his motions, listening to his lungs and feeling around his neck.
“A little warm but better. I'd say you're almost back to a normal bodily temperature. This next part might hurt. Would you like to take some medicine?”
“I think I ought to. I still have a steady headache, though it is tolerable, but more so with your medicine even if it makes me tired.”
“A good choice, my lord.” The doctor mixed up the medicine and handed it to Knightly. He swallowed it down in one gulp and set the glass aside.
Next, Dr. Smith wrapped a bit of cloth around a thin rod and wiggled it inside the helmet.
Willa covered her mouth as Knightly went rigid on the bed.
Dr. Smith withdrew the rag, and it was covered in blood. “Better than I imagined.”
“What does that mean?” Willa asked.
“There is less infection,” the doctor answered, “and a bit more room than there was yesterday. I prescribe more rest. What we’re doing is working, and I will check again with you tomorrow, barring no changes in your condition. Lady Knightly, it is up to you to watch him closely.”
“I will,” Willa said. She wasn't going to leave his side. Not for anything. Knightly was breathing hard as the doctor packed up his things and mixed another dose for later that evening.
She went to his side. “Are you in a lot of pain now?” How stupid, of course he was.
He was still as tense as piano wire, his knuckles white at his side.
“The medicine is taking effect. It is getting better.”
A bit of blood rolled down his neck, and Willa grabbed a cloth to wipe it away.
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“I'm starving. I'd like to eat some breakfast before I go back to sleep. It's a pity, I felt so good. I could finally walk on my own without falling over.”
“But I think you still need rest.”
He nodded.
