“Er, the young lady since her come-out ball.”
Sebastian gave a sharp incline of his head. “She is a dear friend of my younger sister. And as you can see, she is unwell. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.”
Rebecca’s eyes flickered and opened. She attempted to sit but couldn’t manage the feat. “Is there water? Serena?”
Sebastian leaned down to Rebecca’s side and helped her. “It’s all right, darling. I’ve got you.”
“Ma’am?” The innkeeper’s daughter was standing in the door weighted down by a heavy tray. Serena led her to the table by the window.
The duchess took a long look at the food. “This will not do at all for your wife,” she told Sebastian. She turned to Serena. “Prepare your mistress a strong cup of tea, heavy with sugar, no milk,” she said. To Sebastian: “I take it she hasn’t eaten a thing since I last encountered you?”
“No.” He smoothed Rebecca’s hair from her face and accepted a cup from Serena. He held it to Rebecca’s lips. “Drink slowly,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Like I fell out of my carriage and the horses trampled over me without a care.” Her voice croaked from lack of use.
“Is there broth on that tray?” the duchess demanded.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Serena snatched up the bowl of broth and brought it to Sebastian.
“Young lady! Are you out of your mind? A duke does not consort with the ill—”
“That’s enough, madam. You will not speak to my duchess’s companion so. She’s been invaluable.”
The rain had returned with a vengeance and pelted the windows, but Sebastian barely registered the noise, keeping his focus on Rebecca. The duchess was right. He knew he should put Rebecca in her maid’s care, but he couldn’t abide the thought of sitting by doing nothing.
~~~
The rest of the day went much the same. After Sebastian was practically forced to push Oxford’s wife from the chamber, he took a moment to get some air. He was halfway down the flight of stairs when the door behind him opened.
“Your Grace?”
He turned quickly and hurried back up. “Serena? What is it? Lady Rebecca—”
“She’s resting as you requested. Forgive me if I overstep, Your Grace. But Lady Rebecca… and… and—” she said, spearing him with a tentatively ferocious scowl. Almost as if she feared repercussions but was determined to have her say.
“Speak freely, Serena.”
“I saw you.”
“Saw me?”
“On the bed. Sleeping beside my lady.”
Sebastian rubbed his palm over his neck. “Oh. Well, as to that.” He stepped forward and looked her in the eye. He wanted no misunderstandings. “I have the most honorable intentions toward your mistress, Serena, but surely you’ll agree with me..”
She cocked her head to one side, yet her gaze remained suspicious. “What d’ye mean, sir?”
While Sebastian had every right to be affronted, he also silently applauded Rebecca’s maid for her diligence. “What I mean is, do you honestly see your mistress as being coerced into a marriage just because her reputation is at stake?”
It took a long moment for his words to sink in. Serena’s shoulders slumped, her lips pursed. “Aye, I see what you mean.”
“Everything will work out for your mistress. You run along and look after her while I stretch my legs and check on Barrett.”
“That’s just it, Your Grace. She’s burning up with fever again.”
Sebastian’s insides tumbled down the two flights of stairs. “It’s up?”
“Aye, sir.”
