Page 34 of How to Ruin a Rake

He took a glass bottle out of his bag and spoke in low tones to Mrs. Bridges while Allegra tried to work out why she felt so ridiculously weak and tearful.

“Is the dog unharmed?” Allegra asked.

“Yes, little Pippin is fine,” Mrs. Bridges assured her. “I’ll bring him up to see you later if you wish. I thought he’d gone in the cart with my husband to market and didn’t realize he was missing until he turned up with you, miss.”

“Is my brother all right?” Allegra asked.

“Yes, he was unscathed,” Mr. Tarleton said. “He came to fetch me in his gig, and now I hope he’ll take me home.” He bowed. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Foster. I’m fairly certain you’ll be up and about in no time, but please call on me if you need my services again.”

They both left the room, and Allegra was alone with a surfeit of feelings and the headache to match. When the door opened and Max came in, she burst into tears.

He took a hasty step toward her and then stopped. “Come on, now, this isn’t like you. Why aren’t you telling me off for not protecting you?” He sat on the side of the bed and offered her his handkerchief.

“You did your best.”

A shudder ran through him. “I wasn’t quick enough.”

“You turned me sufficiently to stop me getting shot in the face,” Allegra countered. “Thank you.”

He took her hand. “We are the most unlucky pair, aren’t we?”

“I’ll be better by tomorrow,” Allegra assured him. “And we can resume our journey.”

“Mr. Tarleton said you are not to move for two days, and that if you still have a headache, or if your wounds haven’t healed, you should stay longer.”

“I feel fine,” Allegra protested.

He squeezed her fingers. “Yes, that’s why you burst into tears when you first saw me. You’ll stay put until you’re better, and that is the end of it.”

Allegra sighed. “I must confess that I do feel quite awful.”

He lightly kissed her fingers and then stood up. “Mrs. Bridges says she’ll look after you until you’re fit to leave and that she’ll be bringing you up some broth for your supper.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at her. “It’s the least she could do, considering I could lay charges against that old man for shooting you.”

“You won’t, though.” Allegra held his gaze until he reluctantly nodded. “Promise?”

“Yes, now go to sleep and get well.”

The next morning, as Max enjoyed a hearty breakfast at the kitchen table, Mrs. Bridges went up to attend to Allegra. When she came down again, she was frowning.

“Is everything all right?” Max asked.

“Your sister has a bit of a fever,” Mrs. Bridges said. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

Max’s desire to eat fled. He put down his knife. “Should I fetch Mr. Tarleton?”

“Not just yet, sir. She could easily throw it off once she’s had her medicine.” Mrs. Bridges sat down at the table. “There’s no infection in the wounds, which is good news.”

“Might I go up and see her?”

“If you must, sir.”

Max went up the stairs, knocked on Allegra’s door, and went in without waiting for an answer. She lay in the bed, her eyes closed, her expression pained. Even from where he stood, he could see the flush on her cheeks and the slight sheen of perspiration on her brow.

“Oh.” She looked at him. “It’s you. I appear to have a fever, which is most inconvenient.”