Page 23 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

She thought she remembered her mother sitting in that chair. It must have been delirium due to the fever. Here she was lying in bed in no more than a nightgown, and he sat not two feet from her. If she wasn’t so sick, it would disturb her. Instead, she shifted once more, turning her back to him, and fell into a deep slumber.

She was so cold, her body racking with chills. No matter how many clothes she put on, she was still shaking. She stood in her nightclothes at the top of a hill with the wind whipping her, freezing her skin. Snow gathered at her feet, chilling her further. Was there nowhere she could go to get warm? She cried out.

“Arabella!” A gentle shake brought her out of the disturbing dream.

“Nash?”

In the darkness, he leaned over her. “You were thrashing about and moaning.”

“I’m so c-c-c-cold.”

Nash lit a candle by the bedside. He was partially undressed, his hair wild from where he must have been running his fingers through it. “Your fever must be going up again. I’ll get you more blankets.”

“Th-th-thank you.”

Nash piled two more blankets on her, but she still shook. He watched her for a few minutes, then said, “The best thing I can do to warm you up is climb into the bed with you.”

“Yes. I’m really c-c-c-old.”

Her eyes grew wide as he yanked his shirt from his breeches and pulled it off over his head. Golden, muscled flesh, covered with a scattering of dark brown hair down the center of his chest, disappearing into the top of his breeches. If she weren’t sick, she was sure any chill would have disappeared.

He lifted the covers and joined her. “Come here.” He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. She settled her head on his shoulder and laid her arm around his middle, relishing the warmth from his body. He’d been correct, he was much warmer than all the blankets he’d covered her with.

“Is that better?” He looked down at her, the darker flecks in his blue eyes illuminated by the candlelight.

“Yes, much better. I don’t understand how I can be so hot one moment and so cold right after that.”

“It’s how your body handles a fever. When my grandmother and cousins were so sick with influenza, I read as muc

h as I could about fevers.”

“Influenza. Is that what I have?”

He hesitated, which raised her fears a bit. “No. The doctor said it could be, but it could also be a common cold. He mentioned nerves, and considering how the last week has gone, there is a good chance this is merely a cold brought on by nerves.”

“I’m not troubled by nerves.”

Grinning down at her, he said, “This has been quite a different week for you than I imagine you’ve been used to.”

“Yes. But it has been for you, as well.”

“Indeed. Hopefully, I won’t catch your illness. But then, I am not a nervous young lady.”

Despite the pounding in her head and pain in her throat, she rallied enough to take umbrage at his remark. “I am not a nervous young lady, either.”

He cupped her cheek and smiled at her in a way that made her stomach do somersaults. Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with her illness, either. “I think it is best if you try to return to sleep. You need as much rest as you can to heal yourself.”

“Yes, I am tired.” She settled against him, then asked, “Was my mother here earlier?”

“She sat with you all evening. I sent her to bed and took over your care. Now go to sleep, wife.”

“Perhaps I will.” Sick or no, she was reluctant to use the moniker husband.

…

Nash would probably sleep but naught this night. He’d been uncomfortable in the chair, true, but now that he lay next to his warm, soft wife, discomfort had turned into torture. At least her shaking had ceased. She had seemed coherent just now when they spoke. He remembered his grandmother delirious for most of the time she suffered from influenza, which encouraged him to think perhaps Arabella suffered from no more than a cold.

He ran his fingers up and down her arm. Glancing down at her, he caught a slight smile on her face. She was truly a lovely woman. It annoyed him that her mother had been so unsure of her daughter’s appeal she had foisted old men on her. Arabella could have easily attracted a young, handsome, wealthy, and titled gentleman. Well, it turned out she had—except for the wealthy part. Certainly not to her mother’s credit, but her bumbling ineptitude, instead.