This place was so exquisitely pretty, that Evie had to stop and admire her surroundings at every step. The carriage had driven them through the entrance of thesquare-shaped house, right into the courtyard. The servants were already waiting to help with the unloading.
Hartenberg strode to the second carriage and lifted Clara into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. Evie wanted to rush forward to check on her dear friend, but was told off with a snap. “Step back, Miss Honeywell.”
He tucked Clara carefully against his chest, gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and stared down at her for one moment with an arrested, softened expression.
Evie froze.
What was that in his gaze? Tenderness? Protectiveness? Concern? As though Clara were something infinitely fragile that he had to protect at all costs. It wasn’t directed at her at all, yet it whirled up a string of answering emotions that she did not understand. A rush of heat, confusion, and something else prickling under her skin, and deeper the slithering of an uglier sensation.
Jealousy.
That surprised her so much that she dropped the carpet bag she was carrying.
Nellie caught it in time. “Careful, miss, it nearly landed in a puddle, again!”
“Thank you, Nellie.” Evie blinked and shook herself. “Make sure you keep up with His Excellency.” Hartenberg had already stridden ahead.
“Come, Miss Honeywell, let us proceed inside. I believe it is about to rain again.” Schneider offered Evie his arm.
Evie took it, wondering what tangle she’d got herself into, now.
Chapter Ten
He’d madesure that Lady Evangeline was settled comfortably in the suite of rooms on the upper floor. They were newly renovated specifically for her. Who could have known that his betrothed would see them well before their wedding?
He’d laid Evangeline down on the bed and her face had been flushed and feverish against the pillow. He snapped an order to send for Dr Huber, a military doctor in whom he held greater faith than the quack who’d seen to her earlier at the inn.
When the maid had brought in a bowl with water and a cloth, he’d personally taken it and bathed her forehead.
She was restless, tossing and turning, murmuring something under her breath. When he leaned forward, he could decipher some unrelated words, English, no doubt, but he could make neither head nor tail of them. He took her hand, muttering that everything was going to be all right and that she would be well soon, but she startled at his touch and his voice and pushed his hand away, and turned her head back and forth, anguished.
That’s right, to her he was a stranger, still. He could not offer any comfort, any solace. That made him feel oddly helpless, a feeling he was entirely unfamiliar with.
He ran his hand through his hair with a frustrated huff.
How could he be so entirely unable to comfort his own future wife?
The doctor, who’d arrived promptly, confirmed the diagnosis of measles. “Thankfully, it doesn’t appear to be a severe case, and with proper rest and care she should be back on her feet well within a fortnight.”
Georg stayed with her until dusk, when he finally left the room, leaving Clara in the care of two maids. He felt unsettled and in strong need of a drink.
Georg found Miss Honeywell interrogating Dr Huber in the hall below, as he was pulling on a coat, clearly preventing him from leaving.
“But I do not understand why you would not administer Dr James’s fever powder to her. It is said to cure all manner of illnesses, especially fever. They say it is a miracle powder, indeed.”
“I have heard of that powder, miss. And let me reliably state that the only miraculous element about it is its persistent use in England given that it has been created by a quack and does one thing: namely, nothing at all.”
“But surely Dr Robert James is not a quack! And the fever powder is a household staple. It is widely used in England. I do not understand why you, a doctor of medicine, are not acquainted with it.”
“As I said, miss, this Dr James is a quack.” He pressed his hat on his head. “And instead of ingesting that fever powder, you might as well ingest a spoonful of flour. It has the same effect. If you truly want to help Lady Evangeline recover, stay away from such treatments and stick tomustard plasters, elderflower tea, and the most reliable remedy of all: rest.Ich empfehle mich.”
He gave her a curt nod and left.
Miss Honeywell remained standing in the hall, looking after Dr Huber, perplexed. “Flour indeed!” she huffed.
“Dr Huber is the best medical man in the entire Austrian army, with decades of experience in his field. His approach to medicine is no-nonsense and practical.” Georg looked down at her and found that her head barely reached his chin.
“I doubt it.” Miss Honeywell sniffed. “His experience in chopping off men’s limbs in the middle of battle is hardly the same thing as curing a gentle lady of the measles. Don’t you have any other doctor nearby? Someone who is a little more…refined?” She lifted her nose.
