‘What is the meaning of this, Mrs. Mead?’ he thundered, rounding on the housekeeper. ‘My every instruction has been wantonly disobeyed. If my patient has died, then on your head be it.’
Sebastian stepped forward. ‘How dare you speak to Mrs. Mead in that tone,’ he growled.
The doctor turned to face the tall soldier.
‘And who, sir, are you? Are you a doctor of medicine?’
‘I am Lord Somerton, Miss Alder’s brother,’ Sebastian replied.
The man’s face dropped, and he took a step back into the room. ‘LordSomerton? My apologies, sir.’
He bowed in a servile manner.
Sebastian’s lip curled and he said in a tone of voice that dripped ice, ‘But as you are here, doctor, you may as well see to your patient and make a proper diagnosis.’
‘Bas?’ The ruckus had woken Connie, who looked around at the assembled crowd with hazy, puzzled eyes.
The doctor listened to Connie’s breathing, took her pulse, and pronounced, with some obvious displeasure, that the danger appeared to have passed. Isabel, standing behind Sebastian, allowed herself a smile of satisfaction.
‘I will, of course, bleed her,’ the doctor announced, reaching for his bag.
At this, Sebastian rose to his full height, towering over the little man and narrowly avoiding hitting his head on a beam.
‘You will not lay another finger on her, you old charlatan. Now, out of my house.’
‘Well, really!’ The doctor began to protest, but his voice trailed off at the sight of Sebastian’s thunderous brow.
Sebastian followed the man down and slammed the door behind him. Isabel heard him stomping back up the stairs two at a time.
‘Thank God he wasn’t here six years ago, or I would be dead,’ he said as he re-entered the room, clenching and unclenching his hands.
Sebastian sat down beside the bed and picked up Connie’s hand, raising it to his lips. It looked small and frail in his big, scarred hand.
Connie turned her head on the pillow.
At the sight of her brother, she smiled. ‘It is you! I thought it was a dream. What are you doing here?’
His fingers tightened on the girl’s hand. ‘Mrs. Mead said I was allowed to sit with you and hold your hand. She also said I could adjust your pillows, offer you a drink of water, or read to you.’
He smiled and pressed her delicate hand to his lips, leaving Isabel with the suspicion that a secret joke had passed between them.
‘Did she? Well, I would like a drink of water,’ Connie whispered, her gaze not moving from her brother’s face.
Isabel poured a glass of water and passed the glass to Sebastian. He raised Connie’s shoulders, and the girl drank thirstily.
‘Now then,’ Mrs. Mead said, taking charge, ‘you leave Miss Connie to me and both of you get yourselves some rest.’
‘It’s you who should rest,’ Isabel said.
Mrs. Mead shook her head. ‘I’ll take to my bed this evening, my lady. For now, leave my girl with me.’
She shooed them both from the sickroom and shut the door behind them.
In the confines of the tiny landing, Sebastian loomed over Isabel. He took her hand and, even in the gloom, she sensed his gaze on her face, but could not bring herself to look into his eyes.
‘How do I thank you? You saved my life and now Connie’s. That is two debts I can’t hope to repay,’ he said. ‘I won’t forget what you did for me in London.’
Isabel bit her lip and looked down at the polished oak floor. ‘I didn’t think you knew that I had...’
