“I still don’t know howIcan help you.”
“I just need you to help steady me while I take steps, so I don’t fall and hurt myself like tonight. A little at a time. I’m not expecting miracles. But I need to regain my strength and stamina. Only movement will do that. And they can’t know I’m doing this, or they’ll try and stop me. I think Amelia would prefer to keep me in this bed forever if it meant I was safe.”
She pressed her lips together, her eyes creased with worry, but then she nodded. “I suppose I could. To keep you from getting hurt again.”
Sam raised both brows. “You’ll help me?”
“I will. I can see why they are scared, but I can also see that you are well enough to move. You look quite virile to me.”
Sam had to stop himself from saying something about demonstrating his virility. He’d already stopped himself from saying something about her nimble body because he knew she had not intended the innuendo. However much he meant to enjoy her presence, this wasn’t a proposition. He genuinely needed her to help him get out of this bed, not get her into it. She had a fresh perspective the others did not. They looked at him and remembered him dying. Daisy looked at him and saw him living.
“When do we begin?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. After breakfast, I’ll send Miss Smith down to the kitchens to do something while I rest. Petrov will be sent off to have my clothing tailored. And Dr. Sloan leaves tomorrow morning, so he won’t be a bother.”
Sam let go of her hand and he instantly missed the heat. Loneliness sat heavy in his stomach. He didn’t want her to leave, but she had to.
She stood and shook out her rumpled skirts. “Before I go, do you need anything? Water, perhaps?”
A hug. He wanted a hug now that his troubling emotions were bubbling up and he was about to be alone once again. But he didn’t want to pressure her into an unnatural closeness. They hardly knew each other, though he’d had the gall to ask her to secretly help him break Amelia’s rules.
“Why did you agree to help me?” he asked instead.
She bit her lip bashfully. “Lady Amelia taught me something today about good trouble.”
Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Oh no.”
Daisy smiled at him. “Helping you get better in secret seems like the sort of good trouble she described.”
Sam smiled back at her. “Good trouble indeed.” But even good trouble was still trouble.
“Goodnight, Daisy.”
“Goodnight, Lord Alston.”
He shook his head. “We’re co-conspirators now. Call me Alston.”
She stepped back but didn’t turn away. “Goodnight, Alston.” Then she turned and left, taking all the light in the room with her.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning,Daisy was in knots after she finished breakfast with Amelia and her brother. She’d hoped they’d eat with Alston, to have another chance to look at him in the daylight, but Amelia said he was still asleep. Afterward, they wanted to take her around London, but Daisy promised she’d rather stay in and read. She expected them to pressure her to comply, but instead they hurried off together.
The weather was looking dreadful now as Daisy paced her room. It had not begun to rain, but the sky was dark and brooding. She left her room and took the back stairs down to the second floor. When she peeked down the hall, there was no one outside Alston’s room. She’d brought a book, just in case Miss Smith was still there. That way she had a reasonably appropriate reason to visit him.
Approaching Alston’s door, she slowed, listening for voices, but all she heard was a soft, masculine humming coming from inside. Could Alston sing? She imagined him performing at a musicale, surrounded by swooning ladies. A charming and gorgeous man like him, with his delectable blonde curls, singing a romantic ballad would steal any woman’s heart.
Should she knock? Her heart was already making a racket in her ears. Daisy settled for a soft tap.
“Enter,” came his voice, and her stomach fluttered. Was this the right thing to do?
Helping someone in need was always the right thing to do, but this was different. She was defying Amelia’s wishes and, most importantly, entering a man’s bedchamber alone. To be caught in this situation would ruin her reputation. There was a mountain of consequences she would be taunting by entering this room. Her hand froze on the knob, and she rested her forehead on the wood and closed her eyes. Her heart was racing, a frightened fox being chased by a hoard of dogs. She drew in a breath, and cold sweat beaded on her lower back.
Walking barefoot on grass was one thing, but this? What had she been thinking to agree to help him?
“Daisy, is that you?”
Her heart skidded to a stop. Her feet would not move. He knew she was out here. There was a heavy thud, and Daisy wrenched the door open, visions of him sprawled on the floor in pain filling her head. She stopped just inside the entry, holding her breath.
