“I’m good thanks. Put those things away.” Mantis didn’t put much stock in the practice. On the few occasions he’d witnessed it, the patient had seemed weaker after the treatment than before.
“Afraid to be cut?” His father’s gaze flicked to Mantis’ face with a sneer. “I’m not sure we’ve a drawer big enough for you in the family vault.”
“Not when it isn’t necessary. Although I thank you for your kind consideration.” Nothing unusual in any of this. Why had he remained under the same roof as his father for so long? He’d been kidding himself hoping to earn the man’s approval.
Would it be worth his trouble to look into a boarding room for his remaining weeks in London?
Cornell ushered the doctor out, thanking him and promising he’d call if his lordship took a turn for the worse.
Mantis downed the water in two swallows. “If you allow them to bleed me, consider yourself sacked.” The threat was an empty one, but just in case his father saw fit to bring the physician in a second time, he’d make his wishes perfectly clear.
Even if it put Cornell in a difficult situation.
But his valet seemed to agree. “It’s a senseless treatment,” he said.
“Lady Felicity?”
“You’re the only person who took ill, my lord. She sent word back earlier this afternoon. Right here, in fact.” Cornell handed over a small envelope, recognizing the same pretty handwriting from the missive she’d sent before. Just a few days ago, but so much had changed since then. The hint of her perfume teased him as he tore it open.
Moving the candelabra closer, he studied the words on the page.
Dearest Axel,
I’m dreadfully disappointed to be denied your company this afternoon, but our outing is not worth risking your health. Please send word tomorrow if you are not greatly improved. Vauxhall isn’t going anywhere.
Regardless, I will count the hours until I see you again.
Yours,
Felicity
I will countthe hours until I see you again.
He read the words three times over until deciding that she must have added the last part in the event someone other than he was to read it.
Because the narrative was that they were in love.
Even so, the words elicited a humming feeling in his heart.
Yours.
In three weeks’ time, she would be just that—his. Even in his weakened condition, that buzzing, tingling sensation moved from his heart to his lower regions.
If the physician returned to bleed him, Mantis doubted he’d have any success. All the blood seemed to have gone to his cock.
And on that thought, Mantis brushed a hand down his face, too weak to laugh at his own joke.
“What should I do about tomorrow’s lessons? I considered posting a sign but none of those urchins can read.” Cornell handed Mantis a plate that held a single slice of bread.
“Blast and damn.” Not fulfilling his obligations wasn’t something he wanted to teach his little charges. “Why don’t you fill in for me?”
Cornell frowned. “Who’ll protect you from the leaches?”
“I think I can manage to protect myself.” He’d already disappointed his betrothed. “I can always lock myself in here.” He spoke the words in jest but didn’t expect the spidery sensation that trailed down his spine. “Just be back in time to help me dress for Vauxhall.” He’d be damned if he stood her up again.
He was going to have to give Cornell another raise. Before years end, it was likely his valet would be the highest paid in all of England.
Exhausted, Mantis was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow again.
