Now she fretted with impatience, while the butler went to see if the family was “in.” After what felt like an eternity Viscount Penrhyd himself greeted the ladies.
Flo gave what she hoped was a creditable curtsy, and said, “May I inquire, my lord, if you’ve recovered from the shock of my last visit?”
His smile held only a hint of sadness. “Good shock is easy to bear. I’m well, but I think, perhaps, you actually came to see my brother.”
His blunt talk flustered her, and she studied the toes of her slippers, murmuring, “Georgie and I are concerned about him.” She peeped up and continued, “He was my brother’s guest before…”
“Before he came home. I know we have you and your brother to thank for that. He might have died on the streets without you.”
“Is he well? My brother told me a lung fever laid him low, but that he’s improved.” She held her breath.
“In body, yes. His fever has gone, thank the powers that be,” Penrhyd said fiercely.
The information lifted her spirits, but worry persisted. “And his mind? Has he spoken to you?”
“About his ordeal? No. We don’t know any more than your brother told us. He wants to see you.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
“Father and I were in the sickroom when they told us you had called. He overheard and asked—nay, demanded—to see you.”
Flo glance over to find Georgie frowning deeply. “My lord,” Georgie said, “I’m not sure it would be proper.”
“Strictly speaking, perhaps not. But if you could bring yourself to accompany Lady Flora, and my father and I are present, it might be acceptable. It would give my brother comfort.”
Flo used her eyes to plead with Georgie, barely controlling the urge to bound up the stairs.
Lady Georgiana sighed deeply. “Very well. For a few moments.”
The viscount escorted the ladies upstairs into a room at the back of the house. The rare sunny day poured light through windows overlooking the garden. A tall man rose from a chair next to the bed at their entrance.
Flo hardly registered his shock of white hair and a face that matched his sons’, seeing only the man on the bed, even as she heard Viscount Penrhyd introduce her and her companion to his father, even as she dipped a proper curtsy to the marquess.
“This is my savior, Father.” Ethan’s voice sounded weak, but it didn’t waver. He reached out his good hand to her, and the old man moved to stand against the wall with his elder son.
Flo dropped into the chair his father had abandoned and took the offered hand in hers, studying his pale face and haunted eyes for signs of improvement. “Are you, then? Saved, that is?”
He broke eye contact at that. “I’m here,” he murmured. “Isn’t that enough? It is what you wanted.”
“I’m not the one who can say so, my lord.”
He turned back to her then. “You are merciless.”
“On the contrary. You are the one who must show yourself mercy. And I suggested you talk with them, not that you sit in an icy garden until you made yourself ill.”
“I can’t—”
“Lady Flora, my son has just recovered from severe illness. This is not the time to press him.”
She smiled back to the marquess. “I understand, my lord. Perhaps in time Lord Ethan can put down the burdens he carries.” She would have risen, but he held her hand fast. She turned back to see his intense gaze bore into her.
“Now,” he said.
“Now?”
“Not later. I may not have courage,” he said.
She realized he meant to unburden himself in front of her, and felt like an intruder.Surely this is a private family moment.She turned to Georgie who took a step closer.
