Page 35 of How to Ruin a Rake

“Typical,” he said as he came to sit beside her. “Mrs. Bridges assures me that you will be fine, but if you want me to fetch the physician right now, I will do so.”

“I’ll be better soon,” she murmured, her eyes closing again. “Leave me to sleep.”

He touched her cheek, which was indeed hot. “As you wish.”

Max had so little to do that he ended up helping Mr. Coggins with the chores in the farmyard. But nothing stopped him worrying about Lady Allegra’s current state of health and about what Roberts might be saying if he’d reached London. Max wasn’t the kind of man who sat around thinking too deeply, but once again, he found he couldn’t escape his thoughts and his sense of guilt for involving Lady Allegra in his stupid wager.

Agreeing to the wager had seemed one of the least dangerous ways to humor his friend Landon, who had recently complained that Max had lost the devil in him. But experiencing even more folly, as a result of that stupidity, was yet another reason for Max feeling too old for such foolishness.

Max forked new hay down from the loft into a wheelbarrow and took it around to the stalls.

And while he was thinking about things to worry about, what in God’s name had happened to Landon? The last time Max set eyes on him, he was mounting the box of the carriage before they headed to the Musgrove residence. Had he been injured in the crash or had he jumped clear? There hadn’t been any sign of him near the wreckage, but Max hadn’t been in any fit state to search more widely. Surely if Landon had died, Roberts would’ve mentioned it? All of society knew that Max and Landon were the best of friends. …

“Sir!” Max looked up as Mrs. Bridges came out of the farmhouse and ran toward him. “Begging your pardon, but your sister’s fever has risen considerably. Would you mind fetching Mr. Tarleton to see her?”

Max put down his tools. “I’ll go at once.”

Of course, Mr. Tarleton wasn’t at home, and Max had to put up with an hour’s pointless conversation with the vicar and his wife where he told so many lies about his “family” that he surely should’ve gone straight to hell. When Mr. Tarleton did return, Max whisked him away immediately and drove the gig back at some speed to the farmhouse.

He waited until Mrs. Bridges took the physician up the stairs and then paced the kitchen until Jane, the maid, came in and offered to make a pot of tea. He’d have preferred something stronger, but it gave him something to do until Mr. Tarleton came down the stairs again.

“Well?” Max demanded. “How is she?”

“Miss Foster has a high fever, which I suspect will get worse before it gets better, but there is no real cause for alarm.”

“No cause? You just said she is extremely unwell.”

Mr. Tarleton’s eyebrows went up. “Calm down, sir, or else I’ll be treating you for apoplexy next. I’ve checked her wounds very carefully, and there are no infections or swellings present, which is a very good sign. If her fever doesn’t come down by tomorrow, I’ll bleed her.” He picked up his hat and glanced inquiringly at Max. “Are you able to take me home?”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be staying here?”

“Good lord, man, I do have other patients.” Mr. Tarleton patted Max’s shoulder. “Your sister will be fine, you have my word on it.”

Max drove Mr. Tarleton to another part of the hamlet, where he had a patient to visit, and then returned to the farm.

Mrs. Bridges met him in the kitchen. “Ah, there you are, sir. Did the good doctor reassure you that your sister is in no real danger?”

“He did, but I struggle to believe it,” Max replied.

Mrs. Bridges regarded him sympathetically. “I’ve nursed many patients through a fever, sir; I’ll do the same for Miss Foster.”

Max belatedly remembered his manners. “Thank you. May I see her?”

“I think she’s best left alone, sir. It would be too much of an effort for her to speak to anyone when she’s already so exhausted.” Mrs. Bridges hesitated. “But I might need your help later, sir, if you’re willing?”

“Of course,” Max said.

“Jane will sit with her while I make dinner, but perhaps you can keep an eye on Miss Foster while I clear up and Jane eats her own meal?”

“I’d be more than willing to help.”

Three hours later, Max was ushered into Allegra’s bedroom and suffered an immediate shock. She was moving restlessly, her face flushed, and her hair was coming free of its braid as she murmured under her breath.

“If you’d like to sit here, sir,” Jane said. “You can mop her brow to keep her cool.”

Max sat down without a word, his entire focus on Lady Allegra, who, despite the doctor’s cheerful words, did not look very well at all.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” Jane said. “Thank you, sir.” She quickly left the room.