"Pardon?" she gasped.
"I don't wish to sound impertinent, Miss Deveril, but are all the men you know fools? Even blind I can see what a wonderful woman you are. Can they not see your sterling character? Not to mention your beauty."
"Really, there's no need to flatter me," she said with a lift of her chin which was lost upon him, sightless as he was.
"I'm not. Your figure is most pleasing, lithe, and graceful. Your hands are delicate, elegant, light. Your intelligence and decency speak for themselves. I can't imagine any man not desiring you."
"Mr. Deveril, really, you are much too bold, sir." She rose from her chair to pace by the window.
His face fell. "I'm sorry. I've been too outspoken. I was merely making these observations from a spirit of friendship. I shall spare you any further blushes by keeping my opinions to myself. If you do not choose to wed, I quite understand. A woman as clever as yourself has every reason to wish to be mistress of her own fate."
She turned back to look at him but could seen no ulterior motives mirrored in his expression. "Thank you for the kind words. You make me sound like quite a paragon indeed."
Alexander sighed. "I'm sorry if my statements of warm regard have made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention. I really didn't mean to sound, so, well, sparkish with you."
"No, I imagine a well-spoken gentleman like yourself could have managed a more flirtatious mode of address than that. After all, you did primarily compliment me upon my character, and you've said as much before."
He laughed. "I hope that hasn't got your amour propre piqued. But to be fair, I can't accurately comment on your physical beauty, now can I, though I'm sure it's prodigious. The bald truth is that I wouldn't care what you looked like. I prefer a woman who has beauty of spirit to one who has simple feminine pulchritude."
"Ah, but the two together would be nice, would they not?" she teased.
He smiled broadly. "In that case I'm so glad I met you, aren't I?"
She slapped the back of his hand lightly. "Oh, you're crossing the line into boldness again, sir."
"I'm sorry. That's not the way to repay you for all your help."
She grasped his hand gently now. "I don't seek any payment other than to see you better, and about two stone heavier in weight some time in the near future. You're much too lanky for a man of your size." She blushed at her words and clamped her mouth shut once more.
Alexander too held his tongue, though he was sure he looked decidedly sheepish. The last thing he wanted was to say something risque which would shock her. Really, the woman was too good to be true. She was kind, bright, shapely, with a heavenly feminine scent, a lovely voice, musical talents, and fascinating conversation. She was also remarkably innocent for all her air of cool competence and worldliness.
No, not worldliness, he decided, but rather a practical grasp of the perils and pitfalls of their society. Sarah was no sheltered damsel, but a real flesh and blood woman. She had offered him friendship when he had been all alone in the world, at his lowest ebb. The last thing he wanted to do was have her pin her hopes on him, or he on her. Not when his entire life was so uncertain, as real and solid as a mirage.
"What is it, Alexander? Have I said something wrong?" she asked when she saw his expression alter.
"Not really. I was just thinking about how I was when I first came out of my coma. I was far worse then. Much thinner."
"How did they feed you all that time?" she asked, wonder in her tone.
"The monks put a long flexible hollow reed down my nose and poured broth and so on down into it with a funnel. They took care of my every need like I was a helpless infant."
She sat back down by his side. "Oh my. And they did that for a whole year?"
"That's right," he said with a curt nod.
"I've heard of the practice, but never seen it myself."
"No reason for a young lady like you to do so."
"I help in a clinic in London when I'm up in Town," she explained. "It's my penance for enjoying myself when I do go."
"A clinic?" he asked with interest, returning to his food once more just to please her.
"Yes, for fallen women," she informed him, for once managing not to color up under his surprised if blank stare. "We tend to their health and also try to help them if they wish to reform their lives."
His brows lifted. "And does your brother approve?"
"Most heartily. And all of his Radical friends the Rakehells do as well."
"That is most progressive of them all," he said in a surprised tone which nevertheless indicated approval.