“Iamyour wife.” He noticed faint spots of color on her cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “And if you are not going to look after yourself, then it is my duty to make you do it. Both as a wife and as a friend.”
“If I had known this was the price of your friendship, I am not sure I would have agreed.” Alaric leaned back, his nose wrinkling as he looked at the tincture.
“Well, it is too late now.” Catherine picked up the bottle and handed it to him.
Her fingers brushed against his as she did so, and he heard her breath catch. His heart beat so loudly he was sure she would hear it, and every muscle in his body tensed, coursing with a fizzing energy. She met his gaze, and his stomach tumbled over and over.
“It is barely a swallow.” Beneath the firmness of her voice, he thought he heard a slight breathlessness.
I am imagining it.He scowled, downed the liquid, and made a face. “That is disgusting.”
He coughed, and Catherine rolled her eyes. Before either of them could say anything, there was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Langley appeared.
She dropped into a curtsy. “Your Graces.”
“Mrs. Langley. Is there something you need?” Alaric noticed the way Catherine’s back stiffened as the other woman entered the room and saw that the smile on her face was not her usual one.
His head began to ache, and the room faded. The sound of chatter filled his head, and an image of Catherine floated to the forefront of his mind.
That smile, I have seen it before.
“Alaric?” Catherine’s voice snapped him back to the present, the memory vanishing.
Alaric waved her away, forcing himself to smile even as the nausea threatened to overwhelm him. “I am fine. Really. It is probably just the vile medicine disagreeing with me.”
Catherine’s lips pursed, but before she could say anything, Mrs. Langley interjected. “If Your Grace wishes, I could prepare a tea for you. I have some skill with herbs and such.”
“A kind offer, Mrs. Langley, but not necessary. The tincture is foul enough; I do not think I could stand a teapot’s worth of the stuff.” Alaric suppressed a shudder at the thought of it.
To his surprise, Mrs. Langley’s smile broadened. “The taste of the tea would be inoffensive, Your Grace. It is an old family recipe; we give it to children and often sweeten it with honey. I find it easier to give things to them that are pleasing to the palate.”
“I see no harm in at least trying it, though, as I told the Duchess, I feel perfectly fine.” He shrugged.
Catherine muttered something too quietly for Alaric to hear, but he was fairly sure he caught the words “stubborn” and “oaf.” It was difficult for Alaric to hide the amused smile forming on his face.
Mrs. Langley gave no indication that she had heard Catherine; her smile remained unchanged, her eyes remained fixed on him.
“I shall prepare it at once, Your Grace.” Mrs. Langley clapped her hands together. “Cook should have everything I need.”
“Will you have time for such a thing?” Catherine interrupted. “I would not wish to distract you from your duties, Mrs. Langley. And the kitchens will be preparing for dinner, after all, we are expecting company this evening.”
“It is no trouble, Your Grace. Oliver is taking a nap, and this tea will not take long to prepare. I assure you, I have no intention of angering Cook. I will stay entirely out of her way, and I believe if I explain that it is for His Grace, all will be forgiven.” Alaric’s head began to ache again, but he forced himself not to show it.
“I do not want you to overstretch yourself, Mrs. Langley, that is all.” Catherine’s voice sounded friendly, but Alaric could hear an edge to it.
“Your Grace is far too kind. I assure you, it would be my utmost pleasure to prepare a tea for His Grace. And then I will return to Master Oliver,” Mrs. Langley replied, and nothing in her tone indicated that she had heard the edge in Catherine’s voice.
Though the exchange was pleasant enough, or at least that was how it sounded, Alaric felt like he was watching two people preparing for a duel, each sizing the other up.
Or at the very least, Catherine is measuring Mrs. Langley.
The air seemed to thicken between them, but Mrs. Langley gave no indication that it bothered her. Alaric glanced from Catherine to Mrs. Langley.
He cleared his throat, and both women’s eyes snapped to him; every hair on his body stood on end. “Mrs. Langley, check that the kitchens can accommodate you, and if so, make the tea and return to Oliver. If they cannot, it can wait until after dinner.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” Mrs. Langley’s reply was barely audible over the beating of his own heart. “May I be dismissed?”
“Yes,” Catherine replied, her eyes leaving Alaric’s.
