a little concerned about those cousins of his. Things do not add up, what with an attack on his life, plus several on the next in line to inherit. It seems that someone is out to do away with both of them.”
Shalan was disappointed, to say the least. Lord Haloran. Why couldn’t this man be anyone except him? Having discovered that the man she had saved was indeed the earl, her attitude toward him altered considerably. Her anticipation of his coming to himself changed, but she still sat with the man, taking her turn bathing down his face and arms. That was as far as she would go. Addie took over at that point, in an attempt to fight the fever. Shalan could hardly look at the broad expanse of bare chest without blushing, much less touch him further. He said not another word, but she had heard him speaking to someone named Dolly, and then to a person by the name of Bart.
Lord Haloran was not left alone after the onset of the fever. Either Addie or Shalan was with him at all times, only taking their turns at rest. Shalan had trays sent up to them so they wouldn’t have to leave him to eat. There were other servants who could have taken over, but the two seemed to want to be there. And he would not respond, no matter what they did and although she had learned he was the loathsome Lord Haloran, she wanted him to live so badly, simply because she had discovered him and nursed him as best she could.
Early on the second day after the onslaught, the fever broke.
Shalan had been reading, and dozing, sitting in the wing chair near the bed, when she heard in a raspy voice, “Lady Shalan?” coming from the vicinity of the bed. She hurriedly rubbed her eyes and looked toward her patient. He was leaning up on his elbow, his head in his hand.
Having been awake for quite a while, he had been staring at the sleeping Lady Shalan. She was a very beautiful sight sitting there, her book splayed open on her lap, her long lashes lying ever so gently on her slightly tinged cheeks. He almost hated to wake her, but something dire had happened to him and he knew not what.
“I am suffering a devil of a headache. And I feel I’ve been ill for a time. What has transpired?”
“You developed a fever, sir, and Peterson said it must have been that you were hit quite heavily on the head. It is most fortunate for you that you have come out of the stupor. According to him, it could have gone either way. I am glad you have awakened.” Although her words were sincere, she delivered them quite tersely, which had him wondering why her attitude toward him had changed.
“I too, am glad. I believe I would have detested the alternative.” And a small smile showed at the corners of his mouth. “How long was I out? I don’t recall much. You, speaking with your father, and some woman who would not leave me alone.”
“That would be Addie, my maid.” She hung her head. “Unless, of course, you were referring to the woman in your dreams. Dolly, wasn’t it?” Why should she feel a small hint of jealousy at the mention of the woman in his dream? She straightened, determined not to allow anything of that nature to affect her emotions.
“I spoke of Dolly? She is my Cousin Bartholomew’s wife. Why would I mention her?”
“I do not know, sir,” she said breathily, relieved for some odd reason. “I only know what I heard. You did speak of Bart, also. You did not call him Bartholomew.”
“I wouldn’t. He has been my favorite cousin, although I have looked after Peyton since he was the weak one. Has he not arrived yet? As you must have gathered, I was on my way to him when we were so unfortunately waylaid. Peyton is almost a brother to me as we were raised up together. I am very distressed at what has befallen him.”
Could this man be so bad if he constantly had a worry for his cousin? But one concern did not make a man one way or the other. Perhaps he only had a penchant for this one Lord Peyton and cared nothing for anyone else. That could be the way of it as he did say the man was as a brother to him.
“Addie,” she said to the maid who had entered the room. “I am so glad to see you. Our patient has awakened, and he is suffering from the headache. Would the draught Peterson left perhaps ease it?”
Addie reached in her voluminous pockets and came out with the draught. “Perhaps. It is for pain, is it not? Would the potion know which way it was supposed to go inside the body? Who knows?” And Shalan laughed. Addie was always coming up with presumptions that no one could ever answer.
As soon as she had the dose in him, Addie ran to have Ardith prepare him a bite to eat and to arrange for his bath. His nightclothes, borrowed from Lord Kiley, were soaked in sweat, and she must take care of that as soon as possible. She would have to bathe him down; the bedding would have to be changed…
On the stairs she met Lord Kiley and another gentleman, a small, pale man, making their way up from the main floor. It seemed as if the man could hardly put one foot in front of the other on the long, winding stone steps, and was glad for the respite when his host stopped to talk with the servant.
“He’s awake, Your Lordship. The fever has broken and it seems that he shall be all right. I must get him some food, though, as I dosed him with the draught. If I don’t, he’ll be most dreadfully ill. If you have need of me, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Very well, Addie. Is Shalan with Lord Haloran?” And the servant answered that she was, as she ran on down the stairs to attend to her duties.
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