Sam winced.
“Give him time,” Blakewood said, taking her by the shoulders. He did it so tenderly that Sam’s heart ached. He’d missed a pivotal moment in his sister’s life—watching the two people he cared for most fall in love. Not that he wanted to be privy to every single one of those moments, but he would have wanted to celebrate them, celebrate with them, and it was too late. Just then, Petrov returned, carrying a tray of his broth, passing Amelia and Blakewood as they left.
“Why do I feel like I’ve woken up in a different life?” he murmured.
Petrov set a tray over his lap and lifted the cover over his bowl of soup. “Because you did. A man could not do what you have done and wake the same man.”
“That’s not comforting in the least.”
“It wasn’t meant to be, my lord. But it was honest. I am always honest with you.”
“That you are. So, tell me everything that I missed besides my own engagement.”
Chapter Two
Sam woke thenext morning as Petrov delivered his breakfast. After taking the broth twice yesterday, Dr. Sloan had promised him solid food today. Sam scraped his scaly tongue over his teeth. He couldn’t get enough water, but when he took more than a few sips, he grew nauseous.
“My lord, did you sleep well?”
“Well enough,” Sam replied. In truth, all he wanted to do was sleep, and yet every time he closed his eyes, panic that he wouldn’t open them again gripped him. He fought the exhaustion as much as he could, but it was futile. He was given laudanum for his pain and the medicine quickly put him into a drugged sleep. He hated how muddled his head was with the laudanum, but his whole body ached from the roots of his hair to his toenails—he couldn’t really do without it yet.
“You look better than yesterday,” Petrov said. “I’d wager you’ll feel like a new man with a stomach full of eggs.” Petrov slid his arm under Sam’s back and nudged him forward, stuffing pillows behind him so he could sit up to eat.
Sam gritted his teeth. The tight scar pulled, and his back screamed with the movement. The room spun as his new orientation settled, and then he could see straight once more.
“Bloody hell, who knew lying still could be so detrimental to one’s health? I will go mad, Petrov, just you watch.”
Dr. Sloan strolled in. “Eat slowly.”
“Yes, doctor.” Sam saluted him. The doctor was an odd man, but his straightforward demeanor soothing in a way. There was no fuss, no exhausting emotions to wade through with him. His presence didn’t tax Sam’s energy.
Dr. Sloan sat and opened his books. He scanned Sam’s plate of food and made notes. Sam downed a full glass of water before taking his first bite, which might have been a mistake. The deluge hit his stomach, and it rumbled angrily.
“What happens if cast up my accounts?” Sam asked Dr. Sloan.
“We’ll find out only if you do.”
Sam took a small bite of toast and chewed slowly. His stomach settled and Sam ate at a slow and steady pace. With more than half his food still left on the plate he was full.
“I was dizzy for a spell when I sat up. What does that mean?” Sam asked.
Dr. Sloan set down his quill. “Dizziness is the least of your worries.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Dr. Sloan stood and approached. Petrov set the tray aside, and Dr. Sloan lifted the coverlet, exposing Sam’s bare upper body to the chill room.
Sam could hardly look at the vicious scar without gagging, but he made himself do it. He’d be seeing it for the rest of his life.
“Have I not been clear?” Dr. Sloan asked. “Everything you do is the first time it’s being done. There are no expectations here. This is a new frontier for both of us.” Dr. Sloan pressed his fingers along the scar. Sam sucked in a breath. The pain burst to life, but as Dr. Sloan’s fingers moved lower, it faded.
“Why does it hurt at the top and not lower?”
Dr. Sloan cocked his head sideways, reminding Sam of a raven.
“Your bleeding injury is healed. Your fractured rib is still healing. Ribs take at minimum six weeks to heal properly. There is nothing to be done for it but rest.”
Sam scowled at his scar. “You call that healed?”
