“You think too highly of me, my lady.”
“You’re welcome to think so, but it won’t alter my opinion.”
He huffed a breath. “I’m terribly sorry.”
“I know.” Deciding she’d had enough of his self-deprecation, she chose to change the subject. “My maid brought me some tea and biscuits. Do you think I might be able to prop myself up a little so I may enjoy them?”
“That should be fine as long as you don’t lean forward. What we need to avoid is adding pressure to your eyes.”
Louise felt her pillows shift in the next second, and then she was being hoisted into a slightly more upright position before being settled back onto a larger pile of pillows. Mr. Berkly seemed to turn in his seat. “Allow me to help you with your snack, my lady. Which would you like first? A spot of tea or a biscuit?”
“Tea, please.”
A faint clink of china suggested he’d picked up the cup. Soon after, she felt the thin brim against her lips. One large hand swept in to support the back of her head. “Take a slow sip.”
Louise did as he asked while trying to come to grips with the pleasure she took from his touch, his assistance, and his general nearness. It was so very different from how Mr. Fairbanks made her feel. The earl could transform her into a giddy bundle of nerves, but with Mr. Berkly, there was something deeper - something she could not explain, much less comprehend.
He helped her eat a biscuit next, then to take another sip of tea. When she’d finished, he eased her gently back against the pillows and…
She knew she didn’t imagine it this time when he brushed his fingers against her brow. Every cell in her body tightened as if on sudden alert. There was no mistaking the tender caress and to her consternation, she wished he’d repeat the gesture.
Instead, he withdrew. “The first few days will be especially trying for you,” he said, his tone a touch crisper, more matter-of-fact, than before. “You’ll have to adjust to a different way of life. While temporary, it will without doubt test your patience. That said, I know you are very determined or we wouldn’t be here right now. Please know, I’m happy to help you pass the time by reading for you, or simply by chatting.”
“Thank you. I discussed this with the Winterlys over breakfast. They’ve offered to entertain me as well.”
“I see.”
Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? Surely not. And yet, just in case, she said, “Of course, they have the household and estate to run, so if you are able to spare the time, I’d rather have your company.”
It was the truth anyway, in spite of how she’d phrased it. Mr. Berkly interested her. His history was riveting, his success in the face of adversity worthy of great admiration. She wanted to know all there was to know about him.
“In that case,” he murmured with a hint of levity that warmed her skin while distracting her from her severe discomfort, “perhaps I should fetch—”
“Here it is,” said Mr. Winterly. “Took me a good while to find. Apologies for that, my dear. I thought it wasThe Barber of Sevilleby Pierre Beaumarchais for some reason, but it turns out to beCandideby Voltaire. Not a very long story, I’m afraid.”
“May I see that please?” Marcus held out his hand and Mr. Winterly gave him the volume. It was the chunkiness of it that caught Marcus’s interest. For a novella only a little over one hundred pages in length, the binding’s thickness was surprising. Unless this wasn’t an ordinary book. He opened it and ran the pad of his thumb across the embossed text. “This book is intended for the blind.”
“Which is why Mr. Winterly offered to fetch it.”
Marcus glanced at Lady Louise. “Do you know how to read it, or are you hoping to learn?”
“I’ve been practicing with a book of my own, in the event my eyes would one day fail me completely. Learning to read with my fingers for guidance seemed simpler while I still had my sight. It made it easier for me to spot my mistakes and correct them.”
“Hmm…” Marcus placed the book in her lap. When she flinched and raised her hand to her head, he caught it. “Don’t touch your eyes. I know it may be tempting, but you need to resist.”
“It hurts and itches at the same time,” she complained.
“I’ll change the compress. That’s what I’m here for.”
“If you’ll both excuse me, I have a few things to sort out with my secretary,” Mr. Winterly said. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“You mustn’t concern yourself about us,” Lady Louise told him. “I am fine and I am sure Mr. Berkly is too. Please, attend to your business. We shall keep each other company in the meantime.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Indeed, it is I who should thank you, Mr. Winterly, for your assistance this morning.”
“I was happy to help.” Mr. Winterly glanced at Marcus, gave him a nod, and departed.
