24
A log dropped in the fireplace, sending a shower of sparks onto the hearth. The noise jerked Theodora awake.
She blinked hazily, uncertain where she was, or why. She was still dressed, with a shawl draped over her shoulders; curled on her side in a deep wingback chair, her cheek numb from resting on the thinly padded arm.
She slowly sat up and rubbed her cheek, grabbing at the book that tried to slide off her lap to the floor. A treatise on crop rotation? Ah, yes. I was reading to Jane. The plan had been to read a boring tome to put the girl to sleep. It had clearly put the reader to sleep, as well.
Yawning, she set the book aside and stretched, looking wearily at the clock. It would be dawn within the hour. It was a good thing she’d awakened now; Jane’s medicine was due soon.
Theodora arose and went to her patient’s side. Jane slept deeply, her cheeks flushed, her lips cracked and dry. It had been two days since Jane had taken ill. Two long, endless days and nights.
Theodora smoothed her hand over the girl’s forehead. She still had a fever, but Theodora thought Jane’s labored breathing was a trifle easier now. Thank heaven for Dr. Murray’s medicine. It seems to be working.
But poor Jane was still restless, kicking off the covers one minute, shivering beneath them the next. She’d become very emotional, too, growing tearful whenever Theodora wasn’t nearby.
Theodora rubbed her aching neck. Since they’d arrived at Dunskey, she hadn’t gotten more than three or four hours of sleep in a row. And considering the lack of sleep she’d gotten the night before Jane had fallen so ill, it was a wonder Theodora could stand upright. She put her hands on the small of her aching back and stretched, fighting a yawn. She’d never been so tired.
A log fell in the dying fire and drew her gaze. Sighing, she went to add a log and stir the embers back to flames before she returned to the winged chair, looking longingly at the settee as she walked past it. She’d lie down and sleep, if she thought she would awaken in time to give Jane her medicine.
Determined to stay awake, she sat in the wing-backed chair and waited for the clock to chime seven. Her head heavy with tiredness, she leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes to rest them from the light. Even the warm glow of the fire seemed too bright just now.
It seemed as if she’d just closed her eyes when Conner crept into her dreams, his deep, lilting voice tickling her ear. She frowned and shifted.
“Thea, lass.”
His voice was as seductive as hot chocolate on a snowy winter day.
“Lass, wake oop.”
Why would I want to do that? She frowned and shifted, curling deeper into the chair.
“Lass,” Conner persisted.
He’s demanding even in my dreams. Eyes tightly closed, she muttered, “Go away.”
A warm hand cupped her cheek. “I will nae.”
Her eyes flew open, and her blurry gaze locked on his face. It wasn’t a dream.
He was stooped before her, one hand on the arm of the chair, the other on her knee. “You’re aboot to fall oot of your chair.”
Chair? She blinked and looked around. Jane. Oh no, her medicine! She immediately pushed herself upright, her stiff neck protesting. “Good God, I feel like I’ve been kicked by a horse. What time is it?”
“Almost seven.”
“Thank you for waking me. Jane’s medicine is due.” Theodora stood, but due to her cramped position in the chair, her left leg had gone to sleep, and it gave way.
Conner caught her, sweeping her to him easily. Her chest was pressed to his, the scent of his cologne tickling her nose.
Her senses, sound asleep a moment ago, roared awake, and she stifled a moan.
He chuckled and his breath, warm against her ear, sent another shiver through her. “Lass, if you wished for a hug, you’d but to ask.” He rubbed his cheek to hers.
She loved being in his arms. He stroked her back, easing the tension in her tired muscles, and it was tempting to let him continue. If she just stayed still . . .
But Jane needed her medicine, and the doctor would arrive soon.
Disappointed, Theodora pushed free of his arms, her gaze finding the mirror over the fireplace. “Good God!” She patted her disheveled hair, strands sticking out because so many of her hairpins had fallen out while she’d slept. “I look like a pincushion!”
He captured her hands, and brushed each with a kiss. “You’d look beautiful had you nae hair, lass. You’re all big brown eyes, lashes that curl to the moon, and a mouth—” His gaze dropped to it and he groaned. “God, lass, that mouth. I wish—”
“Theodora?”
Jane! Theodora pulled free from Conner’s mesmerizing hold and hurried to the bed, pausing at the washstand to wring out a fresh cooling cloth. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”
The furrow between Jane’s eyes said it all, and Theodora placed the cloth on the girl’s brow. “That bad, is it? Fortunately, it’s time for your medicine.”
“No,” Jane croaked, making a face. “It’s so bitter!”
“Yes, but it calms your cough. Perhaps I can convince Mrs. MacAuley to make some of her famous scones. She hasn’t made any since we’ve been here, and they’d be just the thing to chase away the taste of that horrible medicine.”
Jane turned her face away. “I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t tried these scones. They’re the best I’ve ever had.” When Jane didn’t respond, Theodora leaned down to the younger girl and whispered, “You have a guest.”
Jane turned back to Theodora. “Who?”
“A gentleman.”
Jane’s gaze moved past Theodora to where Conner stood by the chair. “Mr. Douglas!”
“That’s Conner to you, lass.” Smiling, he came over to stand beside the bed. “I will nae keep you long; you’ll wish to get ready for the doctor’s visit. But I wanted to see how you are doing.”
A pleased smile flickered over Jane’s thin face. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Did you hear that, Thea? I’m kind,” he teased.
“I heard, but since Jane has a fever, we cannot hold her accountable for everything she says right now.”
Jane blinked. “I meant it!”
Theodora smiled. “Of course you did. Lie back and let me tuck these blankets in. I just heard a coach, which must be the doctor.”
Jane clutched at her blankets, tears instantly appearing in her blue eyes. “Tell him to go away. I don’t like him.”
“None of us do,” Conner said in a soothing tone. “But he knows what he’s aboot. Be guid for the worthy doctor, and dinnae take his manners to heart, and maybe—just maybe, mind you—once he’s gone, someone will come and read to you.”
“Someone?”
“He means himself,” Theodora said. “He’s just being mysterious.”
“Och, I’d be failing miserably at being mysterious were I that obvious.”
Theodora waved him away. “Go fetch the doctor.”
He winked at Jane, who went pink with pleasure, and then he headed to the door. Theodora followed, saying in a low voice once they reached the hallway, “That was well done. Hopefully she won’t take the doctor’s harshness so to heart today.”
Conner’s gaze moved over Theodora’s face. “You look tired, lass. You need to have a care. You’ll be ill, too, do you nae get some proper rest.”
It was hard not to read the softening of his expression as having more meaning than it did, but she managed. “Once Jane’s better, Alice can sit with her for a few hours at a time. But for now, she’s more comfortable with me than anyone else.”
“Bloody hell, you’re a stubborn wench.” Conner didn’t like the faint circles under Thea’s eyes, or the way she kept rubbing her neck as if it ached. It was plain to see she was exhausted. Dammit, why would she not listen to reason?
He looked past Thea to where Jane rested, her eyes closed, although her frown belied any idea she might be sleeping. “She dinnae seem to mind my visit.”
“All women enjoy a dose of flirtation.”
“You think that’s what brought Jane around?” At Thea’s nod, he said in a firm tone, “I’ll be back to watch over the lass as soon as Murray has left.”
Thea’s eyes widened. “You?”
He frowned. “Why nae me?”
“Because . . . well, you’re—” She waved her hand.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m what?”
She bit her lip. “Nothing.”
He snorted his disbelief. “I’ll be back. If ’tis propriety as worries you, I’ll leave the door open and have Alice sit ootside.”“It’s not that. It’s a lot of work. Jane sleeps a good bit, but when she’s awake she’s quite peevish, like a small child.”
“It’ll be guid practice for when I visit my nephew.”
Thea opened her mouth to voice another objection, but he placed his finger over her lips. “As much as I like to hear you speak, you’re wasting time. Just agree and I’ll fetch the doctor.”
She captured his hand and lowered it from her lips, though she clung to his fingers for reasons she dared not explore. “Conner, I don’t mean to be ungracious. I just didn’t expect you to offer to help, that’s all.”
“Bloody hell, lass! How can you say such a thing? Have I nae been helping all along?”
“No. Most of the time, you’ve been doing the opposite—trying to stop my elopement, trying to show Lance in the worst light possible, trying to complicate matters by adding numerous chaperones, and—”
“All right, that’s true aboot your elopement, but nae this.” He took a deep breath and gently untangled his hand. “As far as your elopement goes, I’m done.”
Her eyes widened, her expression cautious. “Done?”
“Aye. I’ve given oop on winning your hand. Now I just want to make certain you dinnae ruin your life by marrying Lance. He’s a nice mon, but is nae the one for you.”
Her gaze locked on his face. “You’ve given up? Then . . . you no longer wish to mar—”
The doorbell chimed, deep and melodious, and Mrs. MacAuley’s voice could be heard raised in greeting.
Theodora’s expression closed. “The doctor.”
And just like that, the moment was gone. For now, anyway. “I’ll be back later.” With a final, lingering look, he left, but his mind raced. Is there hope? If only he could be certain.
“Ah! Just the mon I was looking for.”
Lance, who’d been standing in the library in front of a shelf of likely books, took an eager step forward, a slender tome in one hand. “I heard you come downstairs. Has the doctor left? Is there any news on Jane?”
“Jane’s with the doctor now. I just saw her though, and she seems more alert.”
“That’s something.” Lance bit his lip, his brow furrowed. “It’s been a long two days.”
“So it has.” Conner came farther into the room and cast a swift glace around. “I dinnae think I’ve been in this room since we arrived.”
“Really? This is an excellent collection of books. What do you read?”
“Mainly books of a nautical bent, which I keep on ship. Most of these”—Conner put his hand on the closest shelf—“came with the house. I’ve meant to inventory them, but haven’t had time.”
Lance patted the book he held in his hand. “This one is on Italy. I’ve always wanted to go.”
“You should do so. It’s beautiful. But for now, I’d settle for some breakfast. Come.” Conner threw his arm around the other man and turned him toward the door. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, but I’m not hungry. I keep thinking about poor Jane.”
Conner raised his brows. “And Thea, too.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” Lance sent Conner a guilty look as they walked into the hallway. “How is Theodora?”
“Tired. She’s been oop two nights and has had verrah little sleep.”
“That’s not healthy.” Lance sighed and fell into pace beside Conner. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“Sadly, there is nae—” Conner stopped. “Wait. There is one thing—but it may be too much to ask.”
“No, no,” Lance said eagerly. “What is it?”
“Do you think you could spend some time each day with our patient? Perhaps read to her? ’Twould give Thea time to rest.”
“I would love to!” As if aware his enthusiasm was a bit excessive, he slanted a self-conscious look at Conner and then added in a more measured tone, “I’ll do anything to help Theodora.”
“Of course.”
“Do you think Jane would enjoy hearing about Italy?”
“Naturally.” Conner led the way to the breakfast room, keeping up a stream of small talk. Soon he was sitting before his plate, listening to Lance talk about his desire to see all of Italy, especially Venice.
Breakfast was usually Conner’s favorite meal of the day, but while Mrs. MacAuley exceeded expectations in many areas, cooking was not one of them. Normally, Conner brought the cook from his ship to serve in Dunskey, but he hadn’t done so this time, for they’d done no entertaining. He missed Cook’s way with breakfast cakes and ham. Perhaps it was time to bring him to Dunskey.
Sighing, Conner absently took a bite of his buttered toast, and wondered if he should ask Mrs. MacAuley to make her infamous scones. Thea had mentioned them and, now that he thought about it, it was an excellent idea. Jane might be more tempted to eat if—
Wait. He stared at his toast, thoughts suddenly crowding his brain. Scones? How had Thea known . . .
He returned the toast to his plate and stood.
Lance stopped in midsentence, obviously surprised.
“I’m sorry,” Conner said curtly. “But I must see Mrs. MacAuley.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Nae yet.” And with that, he left.