As if she read his mind, she gazed down at herself, and she gasped, her eyes wide in horror. “I must change.” She turned away from him and took a step away before adding, “I would be grateful if you could do as you said.”
“I’ll see to the mess and make certain someone else brings up your dinner tray. How is your cousin?” he asked belatedly.
She didn’t turn to face him. “Sleeping. Chilled but not feverish. Dr. Gratis said she could go home in the morning. I fear she may worsen, though. She isn’t herself. Thank you for your assistance.” She hurried to a room at the other end of the hall and disappeared.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered, staring at the closed door, letting her words warm his heart as her body had warmed his more primitive parts.
But you’ve behaved like a perfect gentleman, and I know better than to believe everything…
He quite liked this Miss Selwyn. More than liked. He shook his head. He had no time for flirtation, much less dalliance—not that Euphemia Selwyn was a woman one dallied with—and certainly not here. The sooner he got to the bottom of Woodglen’s finances, the sooner he could go home and shake the dust of the place from his feet. Unfortunately, the deeper he probed, the longer he was certain he would be there. He had found no major embezzlement, but something about the books was not quite right.
Chapter Ten
Gray light filteredthrough the curtains when Mercy came to Selina’s room without knocking and unceremoniously dumped a shuttle of coal at the hearth.
Mia groaned and rolled over. She rose on one elbow to glare at Mercy.
“Someone else best bring your tray. I’m not carrying it all the way up here again no matter what that Kendrick sez. Footmen fear him. They do as he says, even if Mrs. Morrit tells ’em different, so one of ’em will get to it.” The maid left without another word.
It would no doubt be as it had been the night before when Mercy and a resentful potboy had brought a new water pitcher and supper on trays, complaining they’d been forced to clean her mess. Supper had been lukewarm and scanty, leftovers from the servants’ meal.
Mia fell back and squeezed her eyes shut. She had spent most of the night sleepless on the thin pallet on the floor, uncomfortable and distressed by the previous day’s events. Touched by Gideon Kendrick’s kindness in this peculiar household and confused by the obvious heat in his eyes when they’d stood next to his bedroom door, she had tossed and turned well past midnight. Home at Selwyn Court, she’d have gotten up to read and calm her mind, but she had nothing to read here.
At least it was only one night. We’ll be home today.
She rose and rolled up the pallet. The gown from the day before that she had laid over the chair to dry was wrinkled but wearable. She dressed quickly for fear the blasted footman would come sooner rather than later. Only then did she realize what was odd. Selina hadn’t awoken even when the maid had made all that racket.
She studied her cousin, asleep in the bed, alarmed by the flush to her cheeks. The back of her hand to Selina’s brow confirmed what she feared. Mia knew fevers from nursing her parents in their illness. This was quite high. Selina stirred, moaned, but didn’t wake.Damn.She needed to fetch Mrs. Morrit.
A footman emerged from the stairs, carrying water, and put up a hand to scratch on Kendrick’s door when she was halfway down the hall. “We have an emergency,” she called. “I need Mrs. Morrit.”
“She’s in the housekeeper’s office,” he answered.
Mia glanced back to Selina’s room. “My cousin has a high fever. I need help. I don’t want to leave her.”
The footman glowered at her. Before he could respond, the door opened. “What is it, Jem?” Gideon Kendrick stood in the doorway, clad only in breeches and a white shirt, open at the neck, with sleeves rolled up.
“This…lady wants me to fetch Mrs. Morrit.” He managed to make it sound like her request was an insult.
Mia closed her mouth, which she feared had dropped open at the sight of Kendrick. Hair mussed, unshaven, and scandalously undressed, he took her breath away. Her expression must have alerted him, because he quickly closed his shirt at the neck and raised a staying hand.
“One moment,” he said, ducking back into the room. He returned quickly wearing a waistcoat and shrugging into his coat. “Now. What is the problem?”
“She—” Jem started, earning a glare from Kendrick.
“Miss Selwyn? What is the problem?”
“My cousin, Mr. Kendrick. She didn’t wake up even when Mercy made noise. She is burning with fever. I need Mrs. Morrit.”
“Get on it, Jem. Fetch the woman,” Kendrick barked, taking the pitcher of water the man carried. He stepped back, and she could see him put it on a rough table. His room was no finer than the one assigned to Selina. He tugged on the bellpull. If it was the same as theirs, a response, if any, would be slow.
When he turned back, he chewed his lower lip as if pondering a problem. “I would check on her myself, Miss Selwyn, but my presence in your room would compromise both of you. I will wait here for Mrs. Morrit or perhaps a maid to provide some protection.”
“I don’t need protection from you,” Mia said. She wasn’t certain how she knew that, but she did.
Sadness permeated his gentle smile. “Perhaps not from me, but from gossips most certainly. The place swarms with them.”
Before she could walk away, he spoke again. “Is the room they gave you the same as mine?”
