“Is he any better?”
Eve glanced up to find Pickmore walking toward her. He held his side as if movement still pained him.
“No. Not really,” she finally answered.
“You should rest.”
“I can’t. Not until he is on the mend.” Eve glanced back at the closed door. “I just wish I knew what he was saying, or could understand more of his words, but I’m afraid even then, nothing would make sense.”
Pickmore frowned. “He’s talking.”
“He’s delirious, but some words were clear.”
“Come downstairs. Tea is waiting and we can discuss them while he is being seen to.” Reluctantly, Eve allowed Pickmore to lead her from the chamber door. Perhaps a cup of tea would restore her energy, though it would do little to restore her hope.
“So, what has Kilsyth muttered in his delirium?” Pickmore asked as they entered the sitting room.
Eve stopped and looked around. She’d forgotten that others were also at Harrington Manor. She’d met them, of course, when they came to check on Kilsyth and introduced themselves, but she’d not encountered his friends gathered in one place like they were now, and when they came to their feet at her entrance, it was all rather intimidating.
“I’m certain it’s not important,” Eve finally said as she took a chair.
“Humor me,” Pickmore insisted.
Eve was just as certain he wished to keep her mind off of Kilsyth’s fever and the direness of the situation.
“Very well.” She pulled a sheet of foolscap and spectacles from a pocket. “I started writing down the words I understood in hopes of them making sense, but they don’t.”
“Kilsyth is talking in his delirium?” Ashford asked with concern. “I hope it’s of current events and not reliving his days at Eton and Cambridge.”
Keegan laughed. “I doubt Miss Doyle would have mentioned it if he were.”
“She’d be too scandalized to do so,” Norbright laughed.
Pickmore had told her that Kilsyth had once been a prankster, but she found it difficult to believe. He was far too serious all of the time to have ever been free enough to try to make a fool out of another.
“Tea, Eve?” Lady Norbright asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Are you certain you don’t wish to rest?” Her blue eyes laced with concern.
“I’ll rest when Lord Kilsyth is better. I don’t want to be asleep if he should take a turn…”
“Fear not, Miss Doyle. Kilsyth is far too stubborn to die,” Pickmore insisted. “You, of all people, know how obstinate he can be.”
A smile pulled at her lips. Kilsyth was persistent and dictatorial. He’d not leave this earth until he was ready.
“Thank you,” Eve accepted the tea and took a sip.
“So, what has Kilsyth been mumbling about?” Keegan asked. “If you wrote it down, it can’t be so scandalous.”
“The words I was able to capture made little sense, I assure you.” She then picked up the parchment and read. “Hell, Pickmore, knew better, keep her, intelligent, good spy, Society, Eve, safe, devils, idiot, torture, Eve, run away, fool, eternity.”
She set it aside and looked up to find Kilsyths’ friends staring at her.
“As I said, the words make little sense.”
“He mentioned you twice,” Lady Norbright offered.
