She shrugged. “Honey helps everything.”
“I’ll get it,” Emmaline said as she pushed to her feet. “I hope it helps.”
It could hardly hurt. She was quick to find a footman and ask for a pot of honey. Then as she returned to the bedroom, she heard Kimberly speak. Her words were formal, as usual, her tone matter of fact, but Emmaline heard how her words faded away in surprise.
“Wake her gently. We’ll need to… lift…” She stopped speaking and Emmaline stepped into the bedroom to see what had silenced her longtime friend.
Max had settled on the bed, a place that was wholly inappropriate for an unmarried man. He was leaning forward while one finger gently stroked the lady’s face.
“Yihui,” he said. “I’m here with the medicine.”
Emmaline had never heard her brother croon to anyone and a glance at Kimberly’s face saw the same shock.
The Chinese woman’s eyes fluttered open. Her skin was flushed pink, but her eyes appeared clear as she focused on theman above her. Her mouth curved into a soft smile even as her brows drew together.
“Medicine?” she rasped.
“I have it.”
He supported her head and shoulders, easily lifting her up then holding her there while he looked to Lady Kimberly.
“Kim. The pillows, please?”
It took a moment for the lady to realize what he wanted. She rushed to do as he asked, fumbling a bit while he cradled Miss Wong.
Emma saw what her brother did not. She saw that Kimberly’s cheeks had turned hot with embarrassment. That the lady served—as she always did—while damning herself for not seeing the need beforehand. And while Max gently lowered his charge, Kimberly stood by awkwardly, her gaze hopping between Max and Miss Wong.
“Tell me what I must do,” Max said to the patient. His tone was soft, almost pleading, and Emma gaped at her normally brusque brother.
Miss Wong pointed at the jar of mold, gesturing for him to hand it over. He did, his movements rushed as he opened the jar for her. She sniffed, she nodded, then she looked to the sideboard.
“Tea?”
Max’s head snapped up. “Bloody idiots,” he muttered. “Where is—”
“Right here,” Emma said in the same voice she used when her mother was on the verge of hysterics.
A footman entered carrying the tea tray. Max pointed with impatience at the bedside table.
“Damn it, Em, you’ve got too many fripperies here to fit the tray.”
She had too many…? “Have you taken leave of your senses?” she snapped. And then she belatedly realized that she’d just been incredibly indiscrete in front of Kimberly and the footman. Good lord, what had happened to everyone today, herself included?
She hurried to clear a space and then personally moved the teapot, honey pot, and other items to the table. When it was done, she gestured the footman away. He disappeared quickly, no doubt eager to carry the tale of Max being besotted with the Chinese witch.
After all, there was no other explanation as to why her normally unflappable brother was suddenly gathering mold in jars and acting so solicitous of a woman he’d met not more than a few hours ago.
Meanwhile, Max was continuing his idiotic behavior. He held out the teacup, cradled in his enormous hands while Miss Wong pinched out a large amount of mold.
“Honey?” he asked as he passed the pot to her.
She sniffed it and nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”
You would have thought her brother had been gifted with the crown jewels, so wide was his smile as he dropped in several thick dollops of honey.
Emmaline stared at her brother. “It was Kimberly’s idea,” she said firmly.
He nodded absently. “Yes. Thank you, Kim.”
