"But you know how it is. My brother was so popular, knew so many people, it was not likely I would have paid much attention. I'm a few years younger than he, and was no doubt wrapped up in my own concerns.
She paused in her needlework as another idea struck her. "Perhaps Henry Stone might be able to help us, though. He's over in Millcote at Stone Court. He might recollect you, or remember his brother Clifford mentioning someone like you.
"Then there is our friend Dr. Blake Sanderson. He'll be coming home from the war soon. He's a doctor, but also went to school with the Rakehells. It's a lot to ask, I know, but I'm sure he would come down to Somerset to examine you if I asked him. He might even know you. He's served as an Army surgeon since the start of the war."
"He sounds a good man to know."
"Indeed." She resumed her darning. "Or there's Malcolm Branson. He and Henry are the youngest of the Rakehell set, but still. Someone is bound to know of someone who loves roses and speaks with your accent."
"My accent?" he said in surprise. "I wasn't aware I had one."
She put her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment, then resumed her needlework. "Yes, definitely from the South. Southwest is my best guess. It is not as broad as a Cornishman's, or even someone from Devon, but it's not quite Somerset either. Too musical. Of course, a lot of it would have been polished off at one or the other of the schools you evidently attended."
"You think I went to a good school?"
"I'm sure of it. You recall a college review, after all, so you must have."
"Not a private tutor?"
"Possibly, but you would have been a handful. You're exceptionally bright, as much so as any of the Rakehells. They went to Eton. Perhaps you knew them then, or at Oxford."
"I don't think I was that wealthy. Perhaps my father was a teacher?"
"Hmm. Perhaps, though at the risk of sounding snobbish, I would say you appeared to have been raised in a much more refined manner than a schoolmaster's wages would allow."
He kissed her cheek, no more than a boyish peck, but enough to peak her nipples and set her pulse quickening. "Thank you, I think."
"At any rate, we can take a ride over to see Henry in the gig one day when you're feeling up to it."
"That's fine. There's no hurry."
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm surprised to hear you say that."
Alexander sighed. "You're the person who told me to take things one day at a time, Sarah. And that I need to build up my strength first. So if you'll forgive me, I'm just going to eat and retire to my room."
She felt instantly bereft as she saw his retreating back. "Now who is keeping things from whom?" she accused gently.
Alexander turned, shaking his head slowly. "Not keeping things from you, no. Another headache is coming on. I don't want you to nurse me all night again. You've been up two nights running. I can't keep wearing you down like this."
"I don't mind."
"Well I do," he said in a firm tone.
"Would you like me to ask Jenny and Caleb to stay the night again?"
"No, they're weary as well."
"At least have something to eat before you go up."
"Aye, I will, thank you. Soup and sleep are the best medicine for me."
They talked of inconsequential matters as they ate, replaying the lovely day they had had around the Maypole.
"I just hope you didn't overdo it with all the dancing."
"I'm sure not. No, I think it's just my head that hurts."
"Shall I get the vinegar and--"
"No, really." He set his spoon down, wiped his mouth with his napkin, stood up and bowed. "Good night, Sarah. Sleep well." He smiled tightly.
"And you."
She listened pensively to his footsteps carefully ascending the stairs. Now all alone, she wandered through the suddenly empty-feeling house locking up. She headed into the kitchen to say good night and thanks to Caleb and Jenny.
"How is he?" he asked.
"He's not that well," she confided. "He seems to get terrible headaches whenever he recalls things. It's like a dam opening, I suppose. So much power, things just rushing though, well, it's bound to be unsettling."
"He's lucky to have you to take care of him. Do you want us to stay?" Jenny offered.
"No, it's fine," she refused, taking pity on the old couple, who had already done so much for the stranger who had come into their midst. "I'll see you in the morning."
Sarah locked up the back door securely after they'd left, and went upstairs. She peered in on Alexander, but he seemed to be sound asleep. She resisted the temptation to go over and check his heart and his breathing. He was going to be just fine. He had to be.