Your house is on fire,
And your children are gone.
The nursery rhyme infiltrates my mind, and I want it to cease. Yet it’s relentless, as if the person is singing it to soothe me—or to make me forget.
My right arm throbs, and my mouth is parched.
‘Water,’ I croak.
The singing stops, and a figure emerges from a dark corner and sits on the side of the bed. My head is lifted, and a cup placed to my lips. The liquid that fills my mouth isn’t water, yet it tastes delicious, and I gulp it down.
After finishing, I’m lowered back to the pillow, and Dr Dryden comes into focus. My eyes rove over him, drinking in his handsome face greedily.
My master.
A strange and slightly painful prickling sensation rushes over my skin, making me gasp. Then it sinks through my flesh and courses through my entire body.I must have a fever—my veins are on fire! And why am I thinking of Dr Dryden as my master? How embarrassing. Thank God I didn’t say it out loud.
I catch sight of a cream bandage wound around my arm almost up to the elbow, which shocks me even further.
‘Wha-what happened?’ I attempt to sit up, and the room tilts alarmingly.
‘Hush now. Just lie still and rest,’ Dr Dryden says. His deep voice is silky smooth, and I’m comforted by the sound of it.
He presses me back into the pillow, and I sink willingly. There’s a brief touch of cool fingers on my hot skin as he smooths back a strand of hair from my forehead.
‘Why is my arm bandaged?’ I ask him, struggling to remember.
‘You had an accident, Florence.’ The way he says my name, like he’s savouring it on his tongue, makes me shiver. ‘In the kitchen. You were cutting slices of cheese for your supper, and the knife must have slipped. I found you on the floor ... bleeding.’
A hazy memory surfaces and then dissipates.
‘Bleeding? Oh.’ I lick my lips, tasting the remnants of thedrink he gave me, and look at my arm. I wiggle my fingers. My hand still works, thank goodness. But I can feel the wound pulsating.I must have cut it very badly.‘What a clumsy klutz. Did you look after me? Thank you.’
His wintry hand returns to my forehead, gently stroking, and it feels so blissfully refreshing that a small whimper escapes before I can stop it.
The corner of Dr Dryden’s mouth lifts slightly. He trails a finger down the side of my cheek and under my chin, tickling it like I’m a cat. A pleasant feeling pricks between my legs, causing my hips to squirm. I nuzzle into his hand, almost purring in pleasure, which shocks me.What am I doing?
‘You gave us quite a scare,’ he says softly, his thumb caressing my lower lip.
A strong urge to suck and bite his thumb arises, which I push aside immediately.What would he think?
I refocus on his face with difficulty.
‘Us?’
‘Yes, me and Charlie.’
Charlie was there? I try my hardest, but I can’t remember him at all. I’m so confused, and Dr Dryden lightly stroking along my jawline isn’t helping.
‘Did I meet him?’
‘Briefly.’ His voice is distracted and hiseyes, now a darker shade of brown, are locked on my throat. He presses his fingers against my neck, feeling for my pulse.
He must be doing another health examination to determine how I am,I think.I must have lost a lot of blood from cutting myself ...
His cold fingers are now tracing the column of my throat and dancing lightly along the neckline of my chemise.
Oh!
