“I don’t know what Sir James is going to say about this,” Littletree said mournfully.
“Nothing,” Laura said firmly. “Because he’s not going to know about it.” Laura fixed the driver with a stern look. “Do you understand? You are not to let a word of what just happened get back to Sir James.”
“But, Laura, James would want to know.” Graeme paused in the act of climbing up into the higher driver’s seat. “No man would want to be kept in the dark if his wife had been in an accident.”
“No doubt he would not,” Laura retorted crisply. “But that doesn’t mean he should. You didn’t see how ill he’s been, Graeme.”
Graeme nodded, his eyes dark with worry. “He’s no better? Abby said—”
“I hope he will improve,” Laura said carefully, mindful of the coachman’s presence and the likelihood of servant gossip. “But I won’t have James fret himself into another fever because of some silly accident that he couldn’t have done anything to prevent.”
“No, you’re right, of course.” Graeme nodded. “We’ll say nothing about it.”
chapter 21
James walked from the bed to the dresser to the far wall and back again. He felt like a fool, tottering around his room like a two-year-old. But Laura was right. He must get stronger; he was useless as he was. So he would eat, though food still was tasteless at best. He would take Laura’s bitter nostrums and drink the blasted milk. He would sleep—he’d already taken two naps since he awoke this morning.
And he would walk in the privacy of his room to regain his strength. At least he had rid himself of Owen after a brief argument over whether Lady de Vere would approve. Fortunately, a desire to remain employed overcame the loyalty Laura engendered in everyone. He had waited until Laura left before he started his treks.
Not that Laura would have been shocked at his weakness. Hell, he’d been flat on his back, it seemed, half the time she’d been here. Still, he had some pride. He had already embarrassed himself this morning when he awoke and found Laura’s soft body snuggled against him—and his own body in a thoroughly aroused state. He’d been dreaming of her, and in that dream Laura was warm and willing, even eager, and he had no longer been ill or weak. He had been himself again, hungry and strong.
But even as the sweet pleasure flooded his body, he had realized how appalled Laura would be to awaken with the unmistakable evidence of his lust pressing against her. She was not only an untouched maiden, but she had made it clear—rather too clear, actually—that gracing his bed was not part of their bargain. James was not the sort of man Laura wanted.
Then he had made the situation even more humiliating by jumping back from her as if he were some maiden aunt. The result was that now he had permanently lost her sweet presence in his bed.
James cast a jaundiced eye at the cot Owen had set up for Laura on the other side of the room. It seemed a very poor place indeed for her to sleep while he took her large, soft bed. But she would never let her patient take the cot.
It wasn’t really the inequity of the sleeping arrangements that bothered him. The thing was . . . he enjoyed waking up with her in his arms. He’d liked turning over in the night and feeling her beside him. He wasn’t sure why, for he was a man who had always preferred to sleep in his own bed. Alone. He made it a point to leave a woman’s bed, not linger through the night. He had no need to cuddle and utter honeyed, meaningless words.
But these past few nights had been different. Even though he had been in and out of consciousness, half the time not knowing what was real and what was not, he had been aware of Laura’s presence. The slow gentle sound of her breath. Her softness. Her warmth. It hadn’t been sexual. Or, at least, it had not been until this morning. James had the feeling he’d ruined things.
His less-than-happy thoughts were interrupted by a bark outside his door. James knew that particular bark, accompanied by several thumps of a large tail against the door. James turned, unsurprised when, after a short knock, Graeme opened the door.
More unexpected, however, was the square woman beside his cousin. “Lady Eugenia!”
“You needn’t sound so surprised, James.” The dowager countess stepped past Demosthenes, who was occupied with letting Graeme rub his ears. “One would think a beast like that wouldn’t have a place in a sickroom.”
“He keeps out unwanted visitors.” James sketched a bow. “Naturally, that would not include you.”
“Hmph.”
“James . . .” Aunt Mirabelle rushed into the room and engulfed him in a soft, sweet-scented hug. “I’ve been so worried about you.”