A bitter taste filled her mouth when she sipped the coffee despite the sugar, cream, and cinnamon. “I understand.”
He cleared his throat. “You look upset. Something happened.”
Was it that obvious?
“Is it me?” he asked. “I understand if?—”
“Good gracious, no!” Her voice strengthened. “I’m not upset with you.”
His green eyes brightened. “So what troubles you?”
“Please do not worry.”
The answer saddened him if the way he lowered his eyebrows was any indication. “I can be of help. Or maybe Patrick’s departure upset you.”
“Oh, no. I mean, I’ll miss him, but I’m just tired.” She rubbed her forehead. In truth, she did feel peculiar, and the coffee smelt horribly.
“You’re pale.”
“I walked here. Perhaps it’s that.” The room tilted, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
When she opened them, a dark halo appeared at the edge of her field of vision. She stood up, but her head became light, and her knees buckled.
* * *
Anthony grabbedIsabella before she collapsed. “Isabella!”
“My lady.” The maid hurried to help.
He gathered Isabella in his arms and laid her on the sofa. “Is she sick?”
“No, Your Grace.” Her voice cracked, though. “Lady Isabella didn’t have lunch today, and we walked all morning. Just that. A moment of fatigue.”
“I’ll send for my physician.”
“Not necessary, Your Grace.”
“Lady Isabella needs help.”
Lawson paled. “It’s nothing. Please, trust me, Your Grace.”
Isabella blinked her eyes open. Her cheeks remained pale. She tried to sit up, but he stopped her.
“Lie down. You fainted.”
She exhaled. “I’m sorry to cause you trouble.”
“Not at all. Lawson, ask Rogers to bring a repast. Something to help Lady Isabella feel better.”
“Immediately.” The maid exchanged a glance with Isabella before leaving the room.
He held Isabella’s hand, checking her pulse. “I’ll have a carriage ready to escort you home.”
“I can hail a cab.”
“No.”
She gripped his hand with surprising strength. “Anthony.”
