"It's just so unfair, him being so ill. He was always so hale and hearty, and I hate the thought of losing him. But no matter what I do for him, he gets weaker every day. I have to resign myself to his passing, but I'm just so angry and bereft. And so tired."
He had heard her confession in relative silence, but when she had finished he had looked into her eyes in such an intimate way that she had been torn between backing away and putting her head on his shoulder to weep.
In the end Jonathan had acted before she could do either, taking her hand firmly but gently in his own. She glanced down, blushed, and was fascinated by the way it fit so neatly into his enormous palm.
"You have no reason to feel guilty. There's nothing wrong with wanting some time to yourself. It's been a huge adjustment for you. You're very young, and it's been a terrible shock. Your emotions are in turmoil, as you said, grief and fear and loss. These are only natural, and do you credit as a good daughter.
"You've probably tried too hard to do your duty and show your love to him. You evidently haven't been looking after yourself. Long hours, scanty meals, it's bound to take its toll. You can't be can't be at ease in mind if you are not in body.
"Please, as soon as you feel calmer, may I go sit with him for a time? My sister Sarah will be happy to help as well. And perhaps there might be a nurse that the doctor can recommend? She can teach you to care for him more efficiently and relieve some of the burden you feel."
"Oh, no, I couldn't ask you all to--"
"I offered, Miss Ashton. Please, take a turn about the garden, or lie down, or pick up a book you enjoy and go sit in a place where no one will disturb you. Go away for at least an hour. I insist."
"But I've already been away for--" she began to object, looking at the clock.
He cut off her protestations. "It's all right. I'll ring for a servant if there are any problems. Show me to his chamber and I shall pray with and for him."
Pamela had hovered at the bedchamber door anxiously, but he had shooed her away with his hand. He'd given her a warm smile and wink. "Go on, little miss. Off with you."
"Are you certain?" she had asked in a doubtful tone.
"Go on now. I'll be here for as long as you need me."
From that day forward, Jonathan had kept his word. He had visited her father often, giving Pamela some welcome relief, some time to herself to rest, or to get some fresh air. His sister had helped as well.
The intimacy amongst the three of them had not increased, however, for she had usually been catching up on her sleep or just going out into the garden alone for half an hour. Some of the people she had considered friends of herself or the family had visited for the first few weeks, but gradually most of them had fallen off.
Only Sarah and Jonathan had remained steady visitors, and the Elthams and Stones had called several times to see if there was anything they could do. She was sorry now that she had not made a better impression upon them. She had been awed by the Duke and Duchess when they had come with Jonathan, and the Stones had seemed so wise and very different from herself.
Now she was friends with them, and the Duke and Duchess were to be her hosts just as soon as they were able to go to Bath. She was to have a second chance with them, show them that she was not some naive little girl. She was determined to make the most of it.
Pamela stretched and rose from the bed, berating herself for daydreaming when she could be doing something useful. She was also irritated at herself for being so worldly that she had not been as good a friend to Sarah as she ought to have been after all her many kindnesses. She had dismissed the dark-haired older girl as pretty but unfashionable, on the shelf, though not many years older, only in her early twenties.
As for Jonathan, she had always admired him, but she to admit now that she had expected to, well, charm him. That he would change for her, that she could make him fit into her world.
She had teased him about his clothes, tried to engage him in racy conversation, and been pettish when she had not coaxed the responses from him which she had hoped. It was very badly done, she admitted that now, but it was so hard to live up to his ideals.
As she went through her morning toilette, she acknowledged that they weren't his ideals personally, but rather the Lord's. Idle gossip could and did damage in her society. She though of the spiteful tabbies who gossiped about lovely young Penelope Winston even after all these years, whispering behind their hands because her name was forbidden to be spoken of aloud in her family's hearing for having had an illegitimate child after having been ravished. She shuddered again at the recollection of Jonathan saving her from Mr. Prine.