“Yes, Your Grace. She’s cool to the touch. I believe she’s on the mend.”
As relieved as Brody was to hear this, his heart still hurt over having to leave Harriet’s side. In one short fortnight she’d become everything to him. He couldn’t stand the idea of being parted from her while she suffered, of not knowing whether she was improving or…
No. He could not think like that. It was just a stomach upset brought on by something she’d eaten. She’d recover, all would be well, and he’d…
Brody stared at her sleeping form.
In his anger, he’d said things that couldn’t be unsaid. He’d deliberately lashed out with every intention of wounding, and he was fairly certain he’d succeeded. What difference did it make if she’d wronged him? Right now, his greatest concern was whether or not they could find a way past all of this. Did she even care for him as deeply as he cared for her?
“Brody?” He turned at the sound of his brother’s voice and blinked. “What are you doing in here?”
“She’s sick, Finn.” God, he could barely speak, his throat was so hoarse.
“With the same thing Lucy’s got?”
“I think so.”
Finn glanced at the bed. “When did you find out?”
“Right before coming to wake you.” He swept one hand across his brow and hung his head while attempting to work up the strength required to leave this room. “Her fever seems to be rising.”
When Finn said nothing, Brody tightened his muscles and forced his body to straighten. He could not – would not – fall apart on account of this. He’d faced worse. This would pass. He turned to the door with decisive movements. “We need to get going.”
“Ineed to get going,” Finn said. “You’ve got to stay here.”
“Impossible. You need me there as your second.”
“I’ll wake Rhys and ask him to come in your stead.”
“No.” Brody shook his head. “You’re about to engage in a duel, Finn. What sort of brother would I be if I weren’t there to support you?”
Finn placed one hand on Brody’s shoulder and met his gaze. “The sort who attempted to stop me from ending up in this situation to begin with. I should have listened.”
“Finn, I—”
“She needs you too, Brody. More, I’ll wager, considering she’s feeling wretched in a strange house. It would be good for her to find you here when she wakes. Besides, what brother wouldIbe if I made you choose me over the woman you love?”
“It’s my duty to be there for you when you need me, Finn. I have to protect you.”
“Not anymore.” Finn, moved to the door. “She’s your future now, Brody. I’ll fetch Rhys and then I’ll be off. I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t get yourself killed,” Brody warned.
Finn waved him off as he disappeared into the hallway. “It’s only to first blood. I’ll be fine.”
Brody dearly hoped so. He was still considering hurrying after him when the front door slammed shut ten minutes later. After crossing to the window, he glanced down at the street below where Finn proceeded to flag down a hackney.
Poor Rhys, who’d been dragged from his bed one hour too early with no time to dress, was still buttoning his jacket before climbing into the carriage Finn had acquired. The conveyance set off and Brody’s shoulders slumped in response to the guilt that now gripped him.
He should have gone with his brother. It was wrong of him not to.
A soft murmur rose from behind him. Turning, he saw that Harriet squirmed beneath the covers. He rushed to her side and felt the washcloth he’d draped across her brow. It was warm to the touch and would have to be soaked in cool water once more.
But when he prepared to see to the task, Harriet produced such an agonized groan, it froze him in place. He stared at her, unsure of what he should do as her breaths quickened and she moved her head side to side. “I need…”
Snapping out of his trance at the realization she faced the wrong way, Brody rushed to collect the bucket. He barely managed to get it under her head before it was too late. Convulsive movements shook her as her stomach attempted to rid itself of additional contents, but there was hardly anything left.
“I think you should drink something,” he said once she’d settled against her pillows once more. He collected the washcloth, which had fallen into her lap, and used it to wipe her mouth. “It will make it easier on your muscles if there’s something for you to cast up.”
