Chapter One
His eyes wouldnot open, but Sam could hear talking. Amelia’s voice filtered through the haze of his dreams coming from somewhere far off. His own mind? He couldn’t discern the direction or if it was real or a dream.
Sam’s throat burned like a parched desert, his tongue thick and sandy.
Amelia’s voice came again, closer and sharper. He was... awake. Awake and inpain. Hot, it was so damn hot. His coverlet felt like a blanket of molten lead.
“Off,” he wheezed. Pain sliced through his gut, like he’d taken a sword through his belly. “Help me,” he gasped.
“Sam? I’m here. We’re all here,” Amelia said. Her voice was like cool water, and a cold cloth smoothed over his brow. Heaven, that cloth was heaven. His hand curled and he could feel the blanket scrunched between his fingers. He took a deep breath, that pain spiking, but damn it, he wanted to wake this time. To open his eyes, to see something real.
“My eyes, wipe my eyes,” he gasped, as more pain ripped through him.
That blissfully cold cloth dabbed lightly at his eyes, swiping across his lashes.
“Stop,” Sam ordered. He could smell whoever bent close to him and it wasn’t Amelia. Someone touched his right hand, and he knew instantlythatwas Amelia. His twin, his darling, hoyden sister.
“Amelia?”
“Yes, Sam!” she said excitedly. “Get Mr. Blakewood!” she ordered.
Sam focused on his eyelids.Open. Open, you bloody scraps of flesh.
It took far too much effort, but he opened his eyes. The light in the room was blindingly bright. He winced as blurry shapes appeared around him.
“Close the curtains,” Amelia bid.
Blessedly, the light dimmed, and he blinked several times. The blurriness melted away, and there stood Amelia, her pale blonde hair hanging limp around her shoulders, her light blue eyes filling with tears. Blakewood stood beside her, his arm around Amelia’s shoulders. His burnished brown hair was in disarray, like he’d been pulling at it, and his pale green eyes were red from lack of sleep, but they both smiled at him like he’d hung the moon.
It all came back to him. The fall from his horse, Blakewood putting Carson out of his misery, the look on Amelia’s face when she first saw him after the accident, Dr. Bradley, then Amelia and Blakewood being engaged, his aunt’s horrid face and Nelson’s belligerent whining, and more. They seemed more like nightmares than memories. Fear stole his breath as he tried to find the words to convey everything that he felt.
Their smiles faded, worry marring their brows.
“Take some water,” Amelia said as his valet, Petrov, moved closer and spooned water into Sam’s dry mouth. It trickled over his lips and chin, but the cool liquid was ecstasy. He swallowed,running his tongue along his teeth. Ugh, he needed to clean his teeth desperately.
“Ah, that’s enough,” Sam whispered. He winced as he drew in a breath. “Why do I feel worse than before?”
A man out of Sam’s view cleared his throat, and then a tall, slender, dark-haired, and rather pale man stepped into sight, a nurse by his side with brown hair covered by a white cap. But the man—he looked like an undertaker.
“Lord Alston, I am Dr. Sloan. I performed an experimental surgery to stop your spleen from leaking blood into your abdominal cavity. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for two weeks, fighting infection and fever.”
Sam blinked. His head grew light, and silver sparkles floated around Dr. Sloan’s slick black hair.
“How do you feel?” Dr. Sloan asked.
“Like a hot coal,” Sam wheezed.
Dr. Sloan nodded. “Lord Alston, you should know you have a very large incision along your right side. Miraculously, infection has been minimal and your fever has been manageable. Your pulse and coloring have improved. I am the best in my field. It was fortunate for you I was in London when your sister sought my help, but the odds of you living were slim. Your recovery to this point is due to my skill and your age and strength.”
“Not one for humility, are you?” Sam said in a gravelly voice.
Dr. Sloan shrugged.
“What do you remember?” Blakewood asked.
Sam stiffly turned his neck to face his friend. He now held Amelia’s hand. Amelia had her other hand pressed to her heart, and there was their mother’s ring on her finger.
“Mostly everything. You were engaged,” he said.
