Page 70 of Mail-Order Viscountess

The room beyond was dim, curtains drawn against the afternoon light. Kate sat against the wall beside the door, her knees drawn up and her face turned away. She didn’t look at him when he entered—just went still, like a deer caught in an open meadow.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” Her voice came out thick. “The doctor said⁠—”

“I know what the doctor said.” He crouched in front of her. “I don’t care.”

She lifted her head then, and the sight of her face nearly undid him. Red-rimmed eyes. Tear tracks cutting down her cheeks.

She looked exhausted, fragile in a way he’d never seen—this woman who would change her entire life to protect her sister, who faced down every challenge with that stubborn lift of her chin.

“Thomas—”

“Three days without a single symptom.” He settled beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body. “You’re not sick, Kate. You told me so a few minutes ago. And I’m done pretending a wooden door can protect either of us from anything.”

A sound escaped her—half laugh, half sob. “What if you’re wrong? What if I’m⁠—”

“Then I’ll be sick with you.” He slipped one hand around her shoulders and used his other thumb to brush a tear from her cheek. “But I’m not leaving you alone in here. Not anymore.”

The careful control she’d been maintaining shattered like ice beneath the blow of an ax head. A sob tore from her throat, raw and ragged, and then she was reaching for him, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as if he were the only solid thing in a world gone liquid.

He pulled her into his arms as something inside him broke too.

She came willingly, pressing hard against his chest. He gathered her close, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her waist.

She shook against him—great, wracking tremors that seemed to come from her deepest parts.

“I can’t lose her.” The words were muffled against his shoulder. “Thomas, I can’t—she’s all I have⁠—”

He tightened his hold. If only he could absorb her fear into himself. “Robert’s with her. He hasn’t left her side. Mrs. Wang is making sure she gets everything she needs.”

“But what if it’s not enough? What if she’s already too sick? What if I brought her all this way just to⁠—”

“Don’t.” His voice came out fierce. “Don’t finish that thought.”

“I have to face it.” Her voice cracked, and another shudder vibrated her body. “I have to be ready⁠—”

“No, you don’t.” He pulled her tighter, willing her to believe his words. “Not today. Not yet. Clara is still fighting, and as long as she’s fighting, so are we. Do you hear me?”

Something in her quieted, though her back still rose and fell with hard breaths.

Then she lifted her face to him. The movement brought her so close, the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes shimmered up at him.

“Thank you.” Her voice came barely above a whisper. “For these past days. For sitting outside that door. For reading to me. For...” Her words caught. “For not leaving me alone.”

His throat tightened. How did he tell her that those hours had been as much for him as for her? That her voice through the crack in the door had been the only thing keeping him tethered when everything else felt like it was slipping away?

He cupped her face in his hands, traced his thumbs over the delicate line of her cheekbones. “Kate⁠—”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and whatever he’d meant to say dissolved from his mind. Heat flooded him, chasing away the cold that had settled in his bones during those long nights of digging through snow and ice.

She wanted this. Wanted him.

The realization surged through his chest.

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away.

She didn’t. Instead, she rose up on her knees and closed the distance between them.

Fire flashed through his entire body. An avalanche—nearly overpowering.