“Impressive cock!” Charlotte cried.
“Stop! Not another word from either of you,” she commanded.
“Are you ordering an injured man to be quiet after he hasn’t spoken in, what, a week? A fortnight? I honestly have no idea how long it’s been, but I would think you would be ecstatic that I was talking at all.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He was the talkative sort, and she was overjoyed by his sudden burst of health. It was as if he had willed himself to live, and so he would.
But she was also embarrassed beyond compare. Perhaps if she just ignored him, he would fall back asleep and she could go back to taking care of him.
“Toss up her skirts! Impressive cock!”
“Even the door can’t hide the fact that you’re smiling.”
Blast it all, she was smiling and somehow, he knew it. In the past several weeks of caring for him, she had begun to see him as a man with weaknesses and strengths. He was a son, whose mother wrote daily. He was a brother, whose siblings wrote letters for him to read, but said not to worry about writing back. He was loved. He was a hero, but he was also a rake. She didn’t like rakes. “I’m going over my list of chores for the day, be quiet.”
“How am I supposed to eat my broth?”
“I’ll send one of the maids in to assist you.” She couldn’t face him yet.
“I’d rather you do it.”
“I’d rather poke my eye out with embroidery needle.”
His voice grew somber. “I’ve seen something very similar to that. It’s not a pleasant fate.”
God in heaven, what kind of person was she? Reminding a man, barely this side of the grave by mere days, about the atrocities he’d witnessed and endured. What kind of woman did that? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“I’ll make a bargain with you. You don’t apologize for losing your patience with me, and I won’t apologize for my rakish ways. Agreed?”
“How about we agree to be more sensitive to each other’s danger zones.” There was silence on the other side of the door and Caillen looked up and down the edge of the frame as if he might be standing on the opposite side.
“Astley?” When he didn’t respond, her heart tripped in her chest. What had she been thinking? The man hadn’t conversed in so many days she’d nearly forgotten the sound of his voice. What if he…what if he’d died? The doctor had warned her about some patients having a burst of energy before they expired. Oh, God.
She opened the door to find Astley slumped back in his pillows, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly agape. Her gaze flew to his chest as she slowly made her way across the room. It didn’t move. He didn’t move and her fear of the worst possible outcome coming true made her freeze in her tracks. Astley was dead. He was dead. After everything he had suffered at the hands of the French, he had died under her care. Alone. She had failed him. She’d failed his family. She’d failed his son. A tear trailed down her cheek as she stared at him.
He snorted.
She jumped. And Astley took a large breath, filling his lungs and exhaling in an exhausted slumber.
More tears fell, but for a very different reason. She couldn’t wait to tell him he’d agreed to be a perfectly proper gentleman in her presence from this day forward.
Charlotte chattered as if she were irritated that Simon was no longer talking.
“He needs his rest, Charlotte. Let him sleep.”
The yellow-naped amazon parrot shuddered. Her bright green feathers plumed twice her size with the movement, before she began silently cleaning her plumage as if she understood. Quietly, Caillen picked up the bowl of now cold broth, backed out of the room and silently closed the door just as the housekeeper, Mrs. Bernard ascended the steps.
“How is his lordship this evening, my lady?”
“Good news, he’s doing better. He was just talking, but he fell asleep before eating his broth. Could you have one of the maids sit with him for a while and then ring for more broth when he awakens?”
“Oh, my word, that’s wonderful news. Most of the staff have been given the evening off. It’s his lordship’s habit to allow them to go home early on the sabbath to spend time with their families, but I will be happy to sit with him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bernard.”
“The countess will be so happy to hear her son is on the mend. May I thank you for taking such wonderful care of the earl? He would not have survived without you.” The older woman’s eyes filled with unshed tears and Caillen felt the need to turn away. She could not deal with anyone else’s emotions when her own were so very raw.
“I appreciate your kind words. If you need me, I will be in the earl’s study writing to his mother.”
