“A fungus wouldn’t insist on making breakfast for the family while she was suffering from a brick to the head, so that is a most unfair comparison.”
To her surprise, Emily cracked a smile. “I suppose I shall attempt to be more fungus-like, then.”
He adopted a shocked expression. “Was that ajoke?You truly must have hit your head.”
“Very funny.”
“Thank you—I like to think so.” He took her hand again, toying with her fingers as though the gesture were perfectly natural. “How badly does your heart hurt?”
“Only a little.”
“For you to admit any pain at all must mean you are in agony.”
She rolled her eyes, which did nothing to ease her headache, and closed her fingers around his. “Help me sit up, please.”
“As you wish.” He slid a hand under her shoulders, and she did her best not to notice the warm press of his palm as he levered her upright. Her head pounded, and at the look on her face, Oliver leaned over to a case on the table she hadn’t noticed before. “Willow bark,” he explained, measuring out a little of the powder and handing it to her. “In case you have a fever. And for the pain.”
At home, she had a similar little medicine box, although its ingredients had all run out some time since. After accepting the little spoonful of powder and the water to wash it down, she rested against the bed’s headrest. Oliver fussed, rearranging the pillows, and when she frowned at him, he raised a brow.
“Not had someone look after you before? It’s quite simple. All you have to do is sit back and let it happen, then thank me. A smile is appreciated, but optional.”
All her previous amusement and humour vanished. Her chest felt too tight. Whenwasthe last time someone had looked after her? Not since her mother had died, that was for certain—Isabella had been too young to care for anyone at first, and then . . . Well, Emily had got into the habit of not letting her weaknesses show.
But she recalled how it felt to be cared for—the memories were quieter now, faded against the everyday worries of her life, but still there. Her mother’s cool hand on her forehead. Feeding her broth. Curling up with her on the sofa, telling her endless stories as the fever sent her imagination soaring.
But back then, she had been a child, and her only responsibility had been to grow up healthy and strong. Both parents had been around to guide her.
Embarrassingly, she found tears start to her eyes, and she did her best to blink them back. This was not how she behaved. She did not have the time and space in her life for weakness.
“Emily?” Oliver looked as though he wanted to reach for her, but thought better of it. “What did I say? I’m sorry.”
“I’m just thinking about my childhood. Isabella.” She didn’t dare give him too much of herself. “When you marry her, please don’t introduce her to Lord Marlbury.”
“Marlbury?” His face creased in confusion. “What’s wrong with Marlbury?”
Everything. She closed her eyes, knowing she had already revealed too much with her request. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you acquainted with him?”
In the most intimate of ways—along with half the girls in the village. “It doesn’t matter,” she repeated, more forcefully this time. “I should never have said anything. Thank you again for fetching the physician for me.”
“I must now take him back,” Oliver said. “In the meantime, I forbid you to leave this bed.”
Something sparked inside her, past the misery that came from being so exhausted and aching—a certain awakening. Curiosity about what it could mean to be commanded, and how it might feel to command.
No, no,no.
She shook her head, dislodging the thought. Such things did not belong attached to Oliver of all people. He was destined for her sister—hersister.And she was destined for no one at all.
Marlbury had made sure of that.
Oliver watched her as though he could read every single one of her thoughts, perverted as they may be. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and a line appeared between his brows.
“Forgive my wording,” he said. “But I mean it. Stay where you are, Emily.Rest. And feel better soon.” He raised a hand as though to brush it across her face, then let it drop and strode from the room.
Chapter Twelve
WhenOliverreturned,heate a warming dinner with the family—precisely what he needed after such a long, frozen journey. Night was already settling over the land by the time he ventured upstairs with a pack of cards. Emily was just finishing the tray of food Mrs Chambers had brought her earlier.
