Sam glowered at him. “I don’t need pity from you. Report that back to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, why don’t you?”
Mr. Chase straightened. “As the doctor says, it takes as long as it takes, and I have no desire to rush the process. I was there when you were dying. It’s not a sight one forgets easily.”
“You’re only here to protect the interests of—” He stopped. In his periphery, he saw Daisy step back toward the door. “Don’t leave,” he said harshly. He took a breath and softened his tone. “You’re the only person I want here.”
If his nurse took offense to that, she didn’t show it. Mr. Chase turned his head to Daisy then back to Sam. “I’ll go make my report.” He popped his hat on his head and tipped it toward Daisy. “Good day, Miss Blakewood.”
“Good day, Mr. Chase,” she returned quietly.
“Are we done yet?” Sam said sharply to the doctor.
Bradley put his hand on Sam’s wrist and frowned at him. “Compose yourself, my lord. Overwhelming emotion won’t help your recovery. This is the time for patience.”
Daisy hesitantly approached and Sam closed his eyes, willing his anger to fade before he frightened her away.
“Sh-shall I read to you?” she asked.
Sam wanted to hit himself. He was being an ogre. Had he truly lost his good sense and become unable to behave accordingly in front of a woman?
“Please. That would be comforting and relaxing.”
She nodded and went to his desk to select a book.
Dr. Bradley packed up his things. “Reading is an excellent pastime, my lord.
I do recommend walking three times a day, after each meal. But don’t push yourself too much.”
“I won’t,” Sam said. “You have my word.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dr. Bradley departed,and Miss Smith, after shuffling things around, left too. Daisy dragged a spindly wooden chair over in front of him and sat with a book in her free hand.
“I’m so pathetic. I couldn’t move that chair myself, but you can,” Sam muttered.
Daisy hesitantly smiled. “Are you insulting me?”
Sam blustered. “No, it was a reference to my weakness, not yours. I—” She grinned at him, and his heart flipped over. “You’re teasing.”
“I figured you might need a bit of levity. At least the doctor gave you permission to do more. You don’t need me to help you in secret.”
“Oh, no. We’ll still be doing our secret work. If Amelia knew what we were doing, I’m sure she’d try to restrict me further. Everyone must believe I’m recovering slowly.” He prayed she didn’t ask him why. He did not want to reveal to her his contract and the specter of his unknown bride. It would cast a depressing pall over their time together and he wouldn’t have that. His time with Daisy were becoming the only bright spots in his day.
She didn’t question his reasoning, but pressed her lips together and looked down at the book in her hands.
Sam read the title and grimaced. “I don’t enjoy self-improvement. How about this?” He opened the drawer to his nightstand and pulled out a book. “Hesta Heartstone and the Graveyard Thief.”
Daisy cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never read it.”
Sam bit back his grin. “Oh, it’s quite thrilling.”
“Is it a mystery?”
“There’s nothing mysterious about Hesta.” He opened the book to his marked page from two nights ago and cleared his throat. This was a terrible idea. Blakewood would break his arms for having his sister read a salacious novel aloud to him, but Sam couldn’t resist. He needed distraction.
She reached for the book, but he held it back. Something was still bothering him.
“I must ask you something, and I want you to be honest. Don’t hold back. I need the truth.”
