“I trust you’ll be sensible, my lord.”
He put down the spoon. “I’ll leave common sense to you, Olivia. You have enough for both of us.”
“You’ve had enough broth?” She rose and removed the tray, placing it on the table. “Perhaps you might sleep a little.”
He laid his head back on the pillow, discovering he was still damnably tired.
“A dashed good shot,” he mumbled, his tongue thick.
She tucked the covers around him. “Who is a good shot?”
“If Onyx hadn’t stumbled, he would have shot me in the head.” He heard her gasp as he fell asleep.
When Dominic woke again, the doctor stood beside the bed with Olivia. Both appeared relieved. Judging by the level of the sun creeping over the carpet, it was afternoon.
“You’ve been out for twenty-four hours,” Manners informed him, feeling his pulse. “We feared you might turn up your toes, milord.”
Dominic raised a questioning eyebrow.
“You had a high fever and were rambling.” Olivia looked at him, concern in her eyes. It made him wonder what he might have said. An erotic dream? She would certainly feature in it. “But you’ve come through it.” She glanced at Manners. “Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
“On the mend. Fever’s broke.”
“I’m tougher than that.” Dominic struggled to sit up. Vague memories of lost hours returned. Olivia spooning nasty medicine down his throat, her soft breast resting against his arm as she sponged his brow with blessedly cool water.
His shoulder throbbed, and he gave up the struggle, falling back, weak as water. He gritted his teeth with annoyance. He’d be damned if he’d admit it. “When can I leave this bed?”
“Tomorrow, for a few hours,” Manners said in that infuriatingly calm way of his. “If you continue to improve.” He snapped his bag shut and walked to the door. “I’ll call in the morning.”
“Thank you, Manners. I owe you a good deal.”
“Thank your devoted nurse,” Manners said as he went out the door.
There were shadows beneath Olivia’s eyes. How long had she remained beside his bed last night, forgoing sleep?
She leaned over to adjust the sling on his arm. “You must rest if you wish to get up tomorrow.”
Impossible to remain in bed for even one more day. He needed to be his usual strong self now, more than ever. Find that gunman if he still lurked on the estate. And he wanted to throw back the covers, snatch Olivia up and twirl her around, make her laugh, and banish the fatigue around her eyes. With a faint grin, he promised himself he would soon.
“I’m not sure what you find amusing, my lord.” Eyeing him, she poured more of that awful stuff the doctor prescribed and held out the spoon. “I distrust it. I’m sure it was wicked.”
“Unfair, Olivia. I’m helpless as a babe,” he murmured, then swallowed the spoonful with a grimace. “No more of that tomorrow.”
She tidied things away. “Wait to see what the doctor says.”
He patted the bed invitingly. “I must talk to you.”
Ignoring his offer, she chose the chair.
“Has anything come to light while I’ve been abed? What does Williams say?”
“Williams and Phillips, the parish constable, have made inquiries. No one reported anything unusual.”
“Bah. Inquiries will get us nowhere. I need to speak to Williams. Send Jack up with a meal. I’m ravenous.”
She smiled. “That’s an encouraging sign. Sam will prepare you a hearty luncheon.”
He arched an eyebrow, a smile twitching his lips. “No chicken broth.”
