I love Warwick Sinclair.The thought both terrified and filled her with warmth.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
He hadn’t seen Samantha for five days. Warwick knew she’d checked on him because his family had told him. They’d asked her to visit with him, but she’d been too busy or had to look after a niece or nephew.
She was avoiding him, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. But what he did know was Warwick needed to see her with a desperation that hadn’t eased any in the days since he’d been shot.
Cam told him yesterday, when he arrived with a large meat pie because food was the medicine for everything that ailed you according to the middle Sinclair brother, that she was safe and being watched closely. So far Samantha had put up no fight at the restrictions her brothers had placed on her. In fact, she was being remarkably submissive.
Warwick remembered Samantha being there, holding him when Lilly and Hannah healed him. Heard her words telling him to fight. She’d kept him alive as much as any of them had. Opening his eyes, he’d found her above. Lovely blue eyes damp with tears had looked down at him, and he’d felt it. A surge of emotion so strong it nearly choked him. She’d left him with the promise she would not go far, which had been the truth as James’s house was close. However, she’d kept her distance from him.
It had been five days since he’d been shot, which, according to Essie, was how long he needed to stay in bed. He hadn’t of course, unless she was in the house, and he’d dived under the nearest blanket. He was paying his nieces and nephews in sweets to keep an eye out for his eldest sister’s arrival.
Today he would see Samantha, Warwick vowed.
He dressed and walked outside, needing to feel sun on his face. The children soon joined him and were now running about the place, getting the things he sent them to find. Like the greenest and smoothest leaf and anything shaped like a square. That last one was proving difficult.
“My foot is losing all circulation, Myrtle.”
Scratching a long shaggy ear, he listened as the dog at his side moaned in bliss. This was not the original Myrtle, but closely related. They’d gotten her on their last visit to Oak’s Knoll, the Sinclair family home. A local had pups, and as they’d looked identical to Myrtle number one, they’d brought her back to London with them. Warwick knew all the other dogs would likely be with Wolf as they usually were. But he’d also noticed that a few of them could be found at his house since he’d been injured.
Another weird thing about their family. Their dogs seemed to know when someone needed them, especially Hep.
Dev walked through the door with Dorrie but no Samantha. His siblings had been checking in on him constantly. Especially the eldest. Warwick sometimes woke at night to find Dev seated in the chair beside him. He’d told him to leave, but his brother had ignored him.
“How are you feeling, Warwick?”
“I am well, Dev.”
He exhaled slowly as he walked to where Warwick sat.
“I doubt you’re getting much peace with that lot,” he added.
The children were running about shrieking at each other, being chased by some of his older nieces and nephews.
“I have been sending them off to find things in a treasure hunt.”
“It’s a lovely day for a treasure hunt,” Dev said.
The sky was a clear blue, and Warwick should feel happy about the fact that bullet had not taken his life. He did. Knew how lucky he was to be here. But something inside him felt heavy. A weight had settled on him, and he couldn’t shift it or work out why it was there.
“You’re frowning.”
“Is frowning not allowed then, Dev?”
His brother dropped onto the grass on one side with another loud sigh. Dorrie did the same, resting her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence, watching the children. So much energy, Warwick thought. He wondered where they got it from. Right then, he felt as if he’d aged forty years in a week.
“No pain in your chest?”
“No, Dev. I have fully recovered, which when you consider what happened, is a miracle.”
“Don’t.” His brother’s voice was a rasp.
Warwick watched Hannah run by him, shrieking with Merry on her heels waving what looked to be a slug around.
“She has fully recovered from the healing?” he asked.
“She has. Lilly has spoken to her at length about healing by touch. Unlike my wife, my daughter does not have to wear gloves but will likely start doing so when away from the house.”
