Marrying Winterborne (The Ravenels #2) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,98
minute or two, she flattened her palms on the counter and pushed herself up, blinking.
“The pain is almost gone,” she said in wondering relief.
Carefully Rhys turned her to face him, his gaze traveling over her. He stroked back a blond tendril that dangled over her right eye. “Your color is better.”
“It’s extraordinary,” Helen said. “I felt so ghastly just a few minutes ago, and now . . .” A euphoric feeling had spread from head to toe, not only chasing away her former worries but also making it impossible for her to recapture them. How odd it was to know exactly what she should be anxious and unhappy about, but somehow not be able to feel anxious and unhappy. It was the effect of the medicine, of course. It wouldn’t last. For now, however, she was grateful for a reprieve.
She swayed slightly as she turned back to the other woman, and Rhys instantly slid a supportive arm around her. “Thank you, Dr. Gibson,” she said fervently. “I thought I was done for.”
“I assure you, it was no trouble,” Dr. Gibson said, her green eyes crinkling. She pushed the tin of neuralgic powders across the counter. “Take another of these in twelve hours if necessary. Never more than twice a day.”
Rhys picked up the tin and scrutinized it before tucking it into his coat pocket.
“From now on,” Helen told Dr. Gibson, “I will send for you whenever I need a doctor”—she paused and gestured to the curved-handle walking stick hooked over the edge of the counter—“or a bodyguard.”
The other woman laughed. “Please don’t hesitate. At the risk of being presumptuous, you’re welcome to send for me if you need a friend, for any reason.”
“I will,” Helen exclaimed cheerfully. “Yes, you are my friend. Let’s meet at a teashop—I’ve always wanted to do that. Without my sisters, I mean. Goodness, my mouth is dry.” Although she wasn’t aware of moving, she found her arms around Rhys’s neck, her body listing heavily against his. Warm flushes kept rising through her like sunlight. “May I have some more lime water?” she asked him. “I like the way it sparkles in my mouth. Like fairies dancing on my tongue.”
“Aye, sweetheart.” His voice was reassuring and pleasant, even as he sent Dr. Gibson a narrow-eyed glance. “What else was in that powder?”
“She’ll be much steadier in a few minutes,” the other woman assured him. “There’s usually an initial sensation of giddiness as the medication enters the bloodstream.”
“I can see that.” Keeping one arm around Helen, Rhys took the open bottle from the stand and gave it to Helen. “Easy now, cariad.”
“I like drinking out of bottles.” Helen took a long, satisfying draught of lime water. “I’m good at it now. Watch this.” She drank again to show him, and his hand closed around the bottle, gently taking it from her.
“Not so fast,” he murmured, his eyes lit with tender amusement, “or all those bubbles will bring on the hiccups.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Helen told him, gesturing extravagantly to the woman across the counter. “Dr. Gibson can cure anything.”
“Regrettably,” the doctor said with a smile, picking up her walking stick by its curved handle, “the cure for hiccups has so far eluded me.”
After Rhys had replaced the bottle in the stand, Helen slid her arms around his waist, which she knew distantly was a rather shocking thing to do, but it seemed the only way to keep herself upright. “Have you ever noticed,” she asked him earnestly, “that hiccups rhymes with snickups?”
Carefully Rhys eased her head to his chest. “Dr. Gibson,” he said, “as you leave, please find one of the sales assistants and discreetly tell her to run up to the dressmaker and reschedule Lady Helen’s appointment for another day.”
“She’ll really be quite fine in another few minutes—” the doctor began.
“I don’t want her to begin planning her wedding dress like this. God knows what she would end up with.”
“A rainbow dress,” Helen said dreamily against his coat. “And unicorn shoes.”
Rhys gave the doctor a speaking glance.
“Right,” Dr. Gibson said briskly. “Good evening to the both of you.”
Helen tilted her head back to look up at Rhys. “I was joking about the unicorn shoes.”
Rhys was holding her with both arms now, the corners of his mouth deepening. Oh, he was wonderfully large and sturdy. And so very handsome. “Were you?” he asked gently. “Because I’ll catch a unicorn for you. There’s sure to be enough of him for a matching valise.”