“Damned if I know,” Myles replied, his voice hoarse.
Dawn approached quickly, and the only change in Amesbury was that his coloring took on more normal tones, which Thomas took as a good sign. The skin on their patient had gone from a sickly blue to a pasty white.
Someone knocked on the door, and two servants hurried in carrying trays of food. After they left, Thomas pushed the eggs around on the plate. He chewed a piece of pastry, then settled down with his mug of coffee. He did not know about Myles, but his own stomach churned, and what little he ate settled like a brick inside. So he continued sipping the coffee, praying his sick friend would wake up on his own.
Thomas thought about sending for his own mother as Amesbury had lost his parents and his younger sister in a tragic carriage accident several years ago. What did he, Thomas Seabrook, Duke of Wentworth, know about nursing someone back to health? But something made him think Amesbury would not want an outsider to know of his plight––even Thomas’s mother. Myles agreed.
So it would be up to the two men to nurse their friend back to health and see him off the laudanum for good.
The doctor came and pronounced their friend strong enough to live. He would, however, suffer greatly for many days without the laudanum in his system. He gave more instructions and left.
Myles rang for Amesbury’s valet, Simon, who came immediately. Dark circles under his eyes indicated his own worry.
Myles said, “We’ll need you and two of the marquess’s most loyal and trusted servants to help us. No others. And they must remain silent about this.”
“That would be Mrs. O’Connell, the housekeeper, and her daughter Erin,” Simon said.
“Please send for them quickly,” Thomas added to Myles’s request.
“Yes, Your Grace. Your Lordship,” Simon replied, bowing first to Wentworth then to Norwich.
While Myles stayed by Amesbury’s bedside, as soon as they arrived, Thomas gave instructions to the housekeeper and her daughter. They would need plenty of sheets, a bedpan, and washcloths for bathing the marquess’s face––and warm broth to warm his body.
When Mrs. O’Connell came back with everything he had requested, she told them with the authority of a housekeeper confident in her position and ability, “If I may be so bold as to say, Your Grace, my daughter and I can care for the marquess. A sickroom is no place for Your Grace and His Lordship.”
A smiled almost curved Thomas’s lips at the concern and worry etched on the housekeeper’s face. “Lord Norwich and I are not leaving.”
She bowed her head. “As you wish.”
***
Staring at herself in the mirror, Emma watched her cheeks flush when she thought about her soul-seeking, tongue-tangling kiss with the duke. How would she ever face him again? Or go on as if it never happened?
“Stop it, stop it Emma,” she scolded herself.
Surely a duke in his right mind would never have kissed her. It must have been the brandy. Pretend today is like any other day in which I greet Wentworth and his family for breakfast––as if last night never happened.
She refused to think of him as Thomas. Calling him the Duke of Wentworth would put what they shared last night in perspective.
Her eyes anxiously scanned the sunny morning room as she entered…and her stomach sank to her knees. Obviously, the duke had chosen not to have breakfast with them. He would probably avoid her for the rest of her life...
Emma told herself the absence of Wentworth was a good thing, but alas, that was a lie. As much as she dreaded coming face to face with him today, she wanted to see his handsome self. Glimpse his deep blue eyes as they met hers. And find out what was there–if anything. Did what happened between them have any impact on him? Would it change things between them?
Emma did not know if she even liked the duke. From their very first acquaintance, she had been drawn to him even though he was moody, self-assured, and demanding. During the weeks aboard the ship, if it had not been for Lord Norwich she would have torn her hair out. Wentworth had barely spoken two words to her on any given day. He let his feelings for her be known through his condescending actions, his rules, and his disapproval. So when had his feelings for her changed? Or when had he seen her as a woman rather than as a tiresome ward?
This attraction she tried to ignore would not go away. She attributed it to the excitement of the season. It would end soon enough. It had to. She just had to keep reminding her inexperienced body, which had other ideas. Ideas and desires and needs she did not understand.
While she sat down with her plate of eggs, sausage, and toast, Emma caught the end of Amelia and Bella’s conversation about their relief to finally have money for new gowns. Surely the duke was a wealthy man? All she had to do was look around her to see the extent of his fortune. Before she could stop herself she blurted out, “What do you mean about finally having enough money?”