She must have been staring pensively at the fire for some time, for when she next looked up, it was at three pairs of worried eyes. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
Emma cleared her throat. "I said, if you're sure your hair is dry so you don't develop a stiff neck, we'll let Clifford take you upstairs."
"No, really there's no need. I can walk."
But a few trembling steps belied her brave words, and Clifford in the room was at her side at an instant. He lifted her once more, and was up the stairs with her in a trice. Soon she found herself in a warm, pleasant, sun-drenched chamber at the front of the house.
The women left the pair alone. Vanessa would have protested at the impropriety had not Josephine returned a short time later with a tray of beef broth. Clifford patiently settled her back against some pillows, and offered to feed her himself.
"Thank you, no, I learned where my mouth was a long time ago, and even how to use a spoon," she said stiffly.
"Very well, but please let me tuck this napkin under you chin."
The intimate contact sent a thrill through her, and she looked away hastily, causing his fingers to catch in her silken tresses.
"I am sorry. How clumsy of me."
"No, it's my fault. I'm the one who moved abruptly."
He settled the tray on her lap and she ate a few spoons of the tasty broth, before leaning back against the pillow heavily.
"I'm so sorry. I can't seem to manage after all."
"Don't trouble yourself. I shall gladly help . And please stop apologizing. It's not your fault you're ill."
"That's just it. I'm never ill. Being so weak and feeble like this is really too embarrassing."
"It was a terrible storm last night," Josephine said soothingly, with a sharp glance at Clifford.
"Yes, we would never have ventured out of our house had it not been for this young miss. Her birthday, you know."
"Congratulations. Many happy returns."
"I'm just so glad Clifford found you before it was too late. Now, I shall sit here and tell you all about my presents, and who danced with whom, while Clifford makes you eat a few more drops of that broth."
Vanessa acquiesced meekly, and opened her mouth upon command as Clifford fed her slowly and steadily.
Thus a half-hour passed, with Josephine describing the gowns and jewels, and providing many interesting snippets of information about her new neighbors, in an entertaining but not at all catty way.
As she listened, Vanessa's admiration for the young woman grew. Surely she would not want to marry into the family of a rake if all Gerald had said about Clifford were true.
But why would her brother lie?
Vanessa's throbbing head could not make sense of it all. At least she was safe at the doctor's house for the time being. Clifford could not press any unwanted attentions upon her. In any case, she was not so sure they were entirely unwanted any longer, she admitted to herself candidly. He was most solicitous of her without being suffocating. It was a novelty for her to be the center of attention, to feel so cared about and treasured. He was most deferential to all the women he came into contact with at the house, from the housekeeper to the cook, and also Malcolm Branson's sister Claire, who arrived just as her eyelids were beginning to droop. Surely he could not be that good of an actor...
'I'll watch over her. Go on, all of you, and get some sleep. You've been up all night."
After making the introductions and patting Claire on the shoulder in an avuncular fashion, Clifford promised to see them both later.
Vanessa tried to chat with the pretty young woman with dark brown hair, but fell into a sound sleep in the middle of a sentence, utterly exhausted by the events of the previous day and night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Vanessa awakened after three, feeling quite refreshed, even if her throat was still achingly raw.
"Would you like me to read to you?" Claire offered. She was a fresh-faced young woman of about twenty, and Vanessa took an instant liking to her.
"If you don't mind, why don't you tell me a bit more about Millcote village, now that I'm going to be living here again?"
Claire told her about who was living in which house, and confessed she did not have any beaux. "We don't have a huge fortune, though we're better off than many. In any case, Father is in no hurry to marry me off. I'm an only girl. With Mama gone and Malcolm showing no inclination to wed, he needs me as the chatelaine of his household."
"I am sure any number of handsome young men will put forward their suit when the time comes."
Claire sighed. "Beggars can't be choosers. Though we have a good fortune now, we were not always so lucky. And may not continue so lucky. It is my duty to make a good match for the sake of the whole family. I cannot follow my inclination, much as I would wish to."