She was drifting. Weightless. Suspended in darkness.
Then, like a swimmer rising slowly from the depths, Edwina felt herself pulled upward—through thick, heavy water. Muffled sounds echoed above her, distant and distorted. Her chest tightened, lungs burning—not for air, but for clarity.
And then…she broke the surface.
A gasp tore from her lips.
“Edwina?” The voice was low, hoarse, trembling with relief. “My darling. Thank God. You’re awake.”
She blinked against the candlelight. The shadows in the room flickered. Her vision was hazy, the world around her sharpening in slow, aching increments. Her head throbbed like a drumbeat behind her eyes. A face hovered close—so familiar it made her chest ache.
Lex.
His eyes were red-rimmed and hollowed from worry, his hair tousled, his cravat loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone. He looked every inch a man who hadn’t slept in far too long.
She tried to sit up. Pain seared the base of her skull. She let out a soft cry.
Lex was instantly there, cradling her shoulders as he gently guided her back. “Easy, now. You took a bad fall off your horse.”
Her brows drew together. “I…I don’t remember.”
“That’s just as well,” he murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from her forehead. “You gave us all a fright. The doctor’s been and gone. You roused a little while he examined you, thank God. Then you went straight back to sleep.”
She shifted slightly beneath the heavy covers. Her muscles ached, and her limbs felt like stone.
“The doctor instructed me to wake you every hour,” he added quietly. “Said it was important. People can…slip away. I’ve been making sure you didn’t. Wiggled your fingers and toes like a man possessed, just to be sure you were still with me.”
Despite everything, a soft laugh escaped her. “You fuss over me like a mother hen.”
“Only because I’m terribly fond of my favorite patient,” he said, smiling, his voice thick with emotion.
She let out a breath, eyes drifting toward the window. The night outside was ink-black and silent. “Did they catch the poor fox?”
“Thanks to you,” he said, “the fox will live another day. The entire hunt stopped cold the moment you went flying.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow. “Glad the fox lived, or glad you went flying?”
She gave him a weak but cheeky grin. “Glad the fox lived, you silly goose.”
He chuckled.
“I don’t think I can ever embrace the sport of foxhunting,” she added. “It feels so…needlessly cruel.”
“I agree with you. Wholeheartedly. It’s an abhorrent tradition, and I’ve had half a mind to put an end to it on my lands.” He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “But let’s debate ethicsanother day. Right now…” He leaned in, brushing his lips over hers in a tender kiss. “Right now, I’d rather kiss you.”
She sighed contentedly. “Mmm. More, please.”
“You’ll get plenty more once you’re fully well.”
“I think your kisses are just what the doctor ordered. I’ll be better in no time if you keep administering them.”
He grinned and dipped his head to steal another kiss, lingering just a moment longer.
“So much better,” she murmured when he pulled away. “You are—objectively—the best kisser in the entire world.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that front,” he said with a soft laugh. Then, sobering, he added, “But you need to rest, my love. Let your body mend.”
