Page 12 of The Beastly Earl

“Ye are barely able tae stand, Master Ewan.” Mrs. Selkirk snorted with affectionate disgust as she berated him as she had when he was a child. “I want ye tae go tae bed. Ye have been up all night with the woman.”

“I should—”

“Get on with ye. We can see to her care well enough for a few hours.”

The woman’s firm, no-nonsense tone made him jerk his head in silent agreement, and he left the King’s Chamber. Once he reached his rooms, he undressed and slid beneath the covers. He had thought he would find it difficult to sleep, but he was asleep in seconds.

§ § §

“Argaty sahib.” Asadi’s voice echoed softly in his ear like a noisy fly. With a grunt he rolled away from the sound. Two scrawny hands rocked his shoulder. “Argaty sahib, it’s the woman. She is worse.”

Still groggy, Ewan lifted his head to stare at the young man. What woman was the boy talking about? He blinked several times as Asadi’s slender frame came into focus.

“You must come now, Argaty sahib. The woman is very ill.” Asadi’s words finally penetrated the fog of sleep, and Ewan stumbled out of bed to dress. In less than ten minutes he was crossing the floor of the King’s Chambers to bend over his patient as if he’d never left the room. He’d been wrong to think her fever had passed.

“I don’t like the looks of her fever, my lord.” Mrs. Selkirk was standing on the opposite side of the bed with a look of deep concern furrowing her brow.

“How long has she been like this?”

“Not long, Maggie called for me as soon as the woman’s fever started again.”

“And how was she during the day.”

“She was restless off and on, but not much. She seemed tae have been sleeping peacefully until the fever returned.”

Ewan bobbed his head in understanding as he pressed his hand against the woman’s forehead. If possible, she seemed hotter than she had last night.

“Did she take any broth or water today?”

“No, my lord. She was unwilling to take even the slightest spoonful.” Mrs. Selkirk’s answer made him frown.

“Have Asadi bring fresh water and towels. I’ll stay with her until her fever breaks again.”

“Very well, my lord,” the older woman said quietly as she left the room.

When Asadi appeared with fresh towels and water, Ewan renewed his efforts to end the woman’s fever. The hours passed slowly as dusk blended into the deepest night. Toward the early hours of morning, her fever broke for the second time. This time there was something about her coloring that made him think she was over the worst of her illness. Although she was still pale, a small bit of natural color had returned to her cheeks.

Wearily, Ewan sank down into the over-stuffed chair he’d pulled closer to the bed. The action made him grimace slightly as he moved his amputated limb in the wrong direction. Before going to bed yesterday morning, he’d removed the mechanical device. He’d not been surprised to find the leather of his artificial arm had rubbed the skin raw where the device was attached to what was left of his arm.

Ignoring the pain, Ewan studied the woman sleeping quietly in the bed. There was something so peaceful about her that he decided to let her sleep some before he attempted to give her any broth. Head pressed into the back of the chair’s cushion, Ewan closed his eye to rest for just a moment. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but when he did he slept deeply. A sound pierced his sleep, and he jerked upright in his chair. As his gaze focused on his patient, he saw a small figure opposite him standing beside the woman, holding her hand.

“What are you doing in here, Ross?” The sharpness of his tone made the boy flinch, but Ewan jerk his gaze away from the child.

“She was restless, my lord. She cried out for someone, so I held her hand to let her know she wasn’t alone.”

It was a quiet, fearless reply that made Ewan respect the boy for his refusal to be intimidated. No matter how much he ignored the child or how harshly he spoke to him, the boy never faltered beneath Ewan’s abrasive disapproval. The boy didn’t even seem to realize that Ewan wanted nothing to do with him, or if he did know it, the child was determined to ignore it.

Ewan rose to his feet to check on his patient. Her sheets were clean and crisp, and he could only assume Mrs. Selkirk had changed the woman’s sheets again while he slept. The clock on the mantle began to chime the hour, and he looked over his shoulder at the clock. He returned his gaze to his patient.

“The woman is fine now. You’re not to trouble her again. Now go. Mrs. Selkirk will be waiting on you for breakfast.” Ewan didn’t look at the boy as he spoke. Instead, he adjusted the covers over the woman. The boy didn’t move, and Ewan slowly turned his head toward the child. “Do as your told, lad.”

“Yes, Father,” Ross said softly. The child’s response aroused a fierce anger inside him, and Ewan glared at the boy, but remained silent. A chastened look crossed Ross’s features before he slowly laid the woman’s hand down on the bed then left the room.

When the boy was gone, Ewan bowed his head with his eye closed. He knew he shouldn’t be hard on the boy. The child was innocent. A familiar anger hardened his muscles. The boy might be free of sin, but the mother was not.

His patient stirred and murmured something unintelligible. He checked her forehead again for any sign of fever, but it was cool to the touch. He saw her eyes fluttering open, and he quickly stepped back into the shadows. It was irrational to desperately want to shield her from his deformities. Even worse was his need not to face her horrified gaze again. Aware she no longer needed him, Ewan strode toward the door.

“Wait. Where am I?” she asked in a soft, unsteady voice. He looked back toward the bed, and saw her looking in his direction with a sleepy-eyed, bewildered look on her lovely face.