The truth of it was that she and Harry were one and the same. If anything, Harriet was all the more impressive because of the sacrifice she had made in order to care for her sister. By choosing to live as a man, she’d given up her identity as a woman, denying herself the chance to meet a man who might love her for who she truly was.
She was kind, caring, and utterly selfless while he… He was beginning to think he might be a bit of a moron. Because the more he sat there, allowing Finn’s words to settle more fully inside his thick head, he realized it wasn’t Harry he loved. It was Harriet. It had been all along. Without her, Harry could not have existed.
He stared at his brother. “That is shockingly insightful of you.”
“I have my moments.” Finn grinned.
“Apparently so.” Brody glanced at his desk where Finn’s will awaited. The hour was getting late. They ought to start with the necessary adjustments. He’d have to put the matter pertaining to Harriet Michaels on hold for the moment. With this in mind he told Finn, “The duel is in six hours. If we’re to get some sleep before then, I suggest we proceed.”
“Agreed.”
Finn reached for the papers and started reviewing, yet despite his best efforts, Brody could not get Harriet out of his mind. She was stuck there. During their acquaintance, she had become the person he looked forward to seeing most every morning.
She was more than kind, caring, and selfless. And he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
This notion stayed with him as he retired a half hour later. It made it impossible for him to sleep. The need to speak with her – to try and resolve their differences – kept him from rest. Which meant that he was awake and able to hear the rush of footsteps in the hallway at two in the morning.
Curious to know what was going on, he shoved the blankets aside and climbed from his bed. After getting dressed quickly, he left his room and paused to listen. A faint groan caught his attention, and he instantly worried Lucy had taken a turn for the worse.
Intent on checking to see if the doctor might have been sent for, he hurried in the direction from which the sound had come. But when he poked his head inside Lucy’s room, all was quiet. He closed the door gently and tilted his head. It sounded like someone was bustling about in the room next door where Harriet slept. Brody approached, stilling when he heard an agonized whimper. The muffled voice of a woman followed.
Determined to know what was going on, Brody gave the door a quick knock and nudged it open just enough to peer inside. What he saw nearly stopped his heart.
The vibrant person who’d muddled his mind beyond reason had been reduced to a sickly individual. Harriet’s face was pale and tears swam in her eyes. Wrapped in a simple dressing gown fashioned from coarse white linen, she clutched at her stomach.
“Looks like he’s got the same ailment his sister’s been suffering from,” said Betsy, the elderly maid who’d come to Harriet’s aid. “I’ve only just managed to um…get him back into bed. He was sitting on the floor when I arrived, over by the bell-pull.”
The words were barely spoken before Harriet retched and vomited into a vase. The flowers that had previously filled said vase were scattered across the carpet.
“Go away,” Harriet groaned. “I… Oh no…”
Brody’s chest tightened. Without thinking he rushed forward, perching himself on the edge of the bed and stroking her back while she vomited once again.
“I’ve got you,” he soothed before glancing at the maid. “A bucket, if you will, and maybe a cup of hot tea along with some water. I’ll stay with Mr. Michaels while you fetch it.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The maid left.
“Would you like me to send for the doctor?” Brody asked. He took the vase from Harriet’s hands and set it aside on the floor. She shook her head without meeting his gaze. Reaching up, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Something else perhaps?”
“No.”
“You’ll be all right in a couple of days. Lucy’s already faring better and you clearly have the same thing.” It was imperative he be as optimistic as possible even though his gut was twisted into a tight knot. It felt like his chest had been chopped open by a blunt axe. Seeing her in pain and feeling like he could do nothing but wait for her to recover was awful.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly released it while lying back. A tear appeared at the corner of one eye before trickling down her cheek. Brody swept it aside with his finger.
“Please go away,” she muttered.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
She swallowed and turned her head so she stared not at him but at the wall when next she spoke. “Why not?”
“Because…” He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Despite everything, there’s no denying I care for you as a person, whether that person be Harry or Harriet.”
She pressed her lips together, her entire body beginning to tremble as she started weeping in earnest. “You don’t have to treat me well just because I’m sick.”
“Harriet, I—”
She wrenched her hand free from his and turned onto her side, offering him her back. “You were right. Everything you said is true. I’m a horrible person for what I did. Our kiss should never have happened. I should have been honest with you and perhaps then… I don’t know. I’m so incredibly sorry.”
