Color rushed into Nora’s face.Damn it.Jamie clutched her hand.
“She lost her brother. She’s far from home. She worries for her niece. She shouldn’t have to put up with bullying,” Jamie spat over at Castellimonte.
“Quite right.” It wasn’t an apology, but Jamie doubted Castellimonte would ever come closer to one.
A man in a gray silk suit entered the salon. He pushed Jamie aside. The count rose and urged Jamie back down. “She will need your skill,” he said.
Jamie blinked for a minute.Skill? What good can I do?The physician took Nora’s hand and asked a question. In Italian. She needed a translator of course, Jamie’s skill. He leaned close.
Jamie explained the man’s question and described the event.
“Does it happen often?”
“No.” Jamie didn’t wait to ask Nora.
“Has it happened before?” the physician asked.
Jamie ran his hand through his hair. He asked her. “No. Never,” he told the man.
“Has the signora recently become pregnant?”
“No!” Jamie snapped.
“What is it?” Nora asked. He told her. Her eyes darted among the three men. “How can he think that?”
“Is there no possibility?” the physician asked.
“No, none,” Jamie responded. He glared at the count.If that old wolf attempts to have this man examine her, he will regret it.Castellimonte returned his gaze serenely.Is that why he sent for a physician, to check if she is pregnant?
“Tell him,” Nora said. Jamie raised a questioning brow. “Tell him I’m a widow. No children. Ever. I can’t.”
Jamie translated her words. He didn’t need to translate the bitterness.
The physician seemed to accept that. He checked her pulse, peered into her eyes, felt her forehead, and sat back on his heels. He stood with a shrug.
“A faint. The crush perhaps. She is well. She will recover momentarily.” He addressed the count directly and ignored Jamie. He left as quietly as he had come.
Jamie sat on the edge of the settee, took her hand, and related the physician’s conclusions.
“Of course,” she said tartly, “but I never faint. It must have been the heat.”
Jamie grinned down at her. “Mrs. Eleanora Haley is not so easily put down.”
“Help me up,” she demanded. He did.
A liveried footman appeared with an ornate silver tray carrying water, tea, and cakes. He set them on a table within reach. The count dismissed the man.
The count himself poured her water. She gaped at him; he smiled back. “Do you think me incapable of something so simple as pouring a glass?” he asked. Nora colored further; it seemed to please the old man.
“Come, Major,” the count said. “Let us give Mrs. Haley a moment to recover.”
The count led him to chairs on the other side of the room.
“You care for her,” the old man said.
Jamie would have denied it, but he couldn’t. “We are betrothed,” he said.
“This marriage will take place.” It wasn’t a question. Castellimonte’s eyes held Jamie’s. Jamie looked away first.
