"It will be even better after we put the liniment on."
Alexander struggled stiffly out of the tub, his back feeling as prickly as a cactus. After he had dried himself, Caleb rubbed the cream in with his strong hands. The cream gave off a pleasant warming sensation, and he could feel his muscles unknotting even further in his lower back.
Alexander felt more flexible and tested his shoulders, moving them up and down, and testing his arms. He pivoted from side to side with his waist, and felt a burning sensation, but forced himself to twist a little bit further each time, biting his lower lip against the searing pain.
After a few more repetitions of his exercises he declared in surprise, "Yes, I'm much more limber."
"Good. Glad to help, sir."
"You're a good man, Caleb."
"And Miss Sarah is the best of women."
"Not to mention your wife, the best of cooks. That breakfast this morning was splendid," he observed, tugging on his shirt.
"I hope you'll eat more. You're far too thin, lad."
Alexander grinned. "I think I can be persuaded."
"Tough over there, was it, sir?"
Alexander paused in buttoning his shirt. "From what I recall, yes. But I was injured in the head and back and really remember very little."
"I understand. Well, you're more than welcome here so long as you mind your manners around Miss Sarah."
Alexander smiled. "Believe me, I would never do anything to harm the fair lady. I would admit to being very curious about her, though. Do you suppose you can tell me, is she, well-- Is she pretty?"
Caleb gave him a glowing description which was accurate even if it was biased. Alexander listened in thoughtful silence, picturing her in his mind's eye, and once again feeling the first flutterings of nascent physical desire.
"Are you ready?" Caleb asked after a time.
Alexander yanked himself out of his rather warm fantasy, telling himself he did not dare even think about the vicar's sister in such an unseemly manner. "How do I look?"
"Just fine. I'll let Miss Sarah tie your cravat. It's more than these old hands can manage."
"Oh, I'm sure not, Caleb. You have a healing touch with that liniment."
"Thank you sir. Glad to be of service."
The two men left the bathroom, and Caleb led Alexander to the small sitting room.
"There you are. Feeling better?" Sarah asked, rising to take his hand, and leading him to the day bed. Once again she remarked inwardly on how stunning he looked in a dark blue suit.
"Much better, thank you."
"Anything else we can get you, sir?" Caleb offered from the doorway.
He decided to take his hostess at her word and treat this as his true home. It was easier than he had ever imagined possible. "I'd love some coffee."
Sarah nodded. "So would I."
"Yes, Sir, Miss."
Caleb withdrew, and Sarah looked at her companion for a few seconds as he settled himself on the day bed. Then she went over to Alexander's side and tied his cravat mail-coach style. "There, perfect." She gave his chest a lingering caress.
"Thank you." He kissed her hand tenderly.
She had him lie back and tucked him in under the covers, for though there was a good fire in the room, there was a brisk breeze blowing outside.
"I hope you don't mind being in here with me, Alexander. I do the accounts and ledgers in this little study. I thought it would be a good room for you to make yourself at home in. You're sitting on a day bed, and there are extra blankets at the foot of it. You can rest or nap as you like. I'll keep you company if you feel up to it. Or you can go up to your room to rest. Please don't be shy, or feel obliged to act like good company if you're tired or want to be alone. It's your choice."
"I'm delighted to be with you, Sarah," he said with perhaps more candor than he should have. "But I know what a busy woman you are. I don't want to be in your way."
"You aren't. I want you to treat this as your own home for as long as you're here. Which at the moment would appear to be indefinitely. Are you sure you're warm enough?" she asked, trying not to fuss over him but seemingly unable to help herself.
"I'm fine. I can feel a good fire."
She looked at him closely. "Forgive my asking, but can you see anything at all, or is it pitch black?"
He considered the question for a time, his handsome face rapt. "It's hard to tell. Sometimes I think I see things, then find I've been dreaming. Other times, for example, when I've had one of my terrible headaches, I see multicolored lights flashing and blinking."