Busick held his breath and drew his arms together, folding them over his chest. “In fact, wear something fetching. I’ll recover faster, chasing you in my thoughts.”
“A nice dress will help you heal?”
“Yes, that and you agreeing to marry me.”
“Now I know you fell and hit your head.” She touched his temples as if to check for fever. “You need to stop this crazy talk. We’ll get you back to Hamlin, and you’ll recover, and everything will be normal again.”
Nothing would be normal, not for him, but he didn’t have the strength to convince her of the seriousness of his offer. It took too much to bite back the pain from the carriage wheels hitting every divot in the road.
“Fine. I’d rather be an invalid at Hamlin than any other place.”
He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the doubt straining her countenance. For the first time in a long time, he knew exactly what he wanted. Whether he could walk or not, he’d regain his strength and win Patience.
CHAPTER 27
CARING FOR THEDUKE
Istood outside Repington’s bedchamber, fretting as I had for the past three days. Upon returning to Hamlin, I’d sent for Lady Shrewsbury’s physician. This was against the duke’s orders, but I had to know how hurt he was. I didn’t understand everything the physician said, but he had my duke on laudanum and left instructions to keep him flat and isolated.
The duke hated it and begrudgingly followed the physician’s instructions.
Lord Gantry came out of the room and shut the door behind him.
“Is the duke any better?”
Gantry shook his head. “He needs to get back into his routine.”
Not knowing what to do with my nervous hands, I fiddled with my apron. “Can he see his men drilling from the window?”
“If he were up to it.”
The tone in his voice sounded too settled, too accepting of this fate.
I couldn’t.
A man who’d journey from a horrid injury back to riding a horse and had built a contingent force to face Napoleon wouldn’t accept it, either.
I glanced at his lordship. “Then maybe you should get his men drilling. We need to act like everything is normal.”
The viscount shrugged and went down the hall.
No one could be the duke but the duke. I should be mad at Lord Gantry, but he’d received a letter that left him brooding. I knew how deadly letters were, how they could kill a spirit, so I let him be.
Mustering my courage, I cracked open the door, hoping to see the duke sitting up and picking at the food I’d given to his valet.
Nothing was touched. The full tray was on the bed table.
Repington was flat on the bed. No pillows, no moving.
His eyes were closed. This quiet, this not declaring orders, unnerved me.
Moving to the bed, I arranged the sheers. “One word. Just one will do.”
No answer. Nothing for my hopes.
But what could I do?
I went into my room, the adjoining one next to Repington’s to check on Lionel. We didn’t move back to the third floor when he’d placed us here after the fallen chandelier. Now I couldn’t be far from the duke.
