me, shall you not?”
He’d been holding his breath in anticipation of her response. He expelled that breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. She wasn’t breeding. Not even Amelia could feign that kind of affront.
Thomas shifted on his feet, momentarily averting his gaze. “Not an impossibility given your history.”
Her eyes darkened, and then she abruptly fell back against the pillow, her pallor stark against the navy bed sheets. “Please go. I don’t want you here.”
Amelia’s maid returned to her bedside with a rag in her hand. “If zu would pardon me, my lord.” She sent him a tentative glance, as if not wanting to offend. Thomas hastily moved aside to allow the woman access to her mistress.
Pregnant indeed! The cool rag on her forehead was a balm against her fevered skin, but the wretched man was impossible.
Hélène began to remove the pins from her hair. Shortly, Amelia’s hair lay fanned about her head. Thomas, who had taken to pacing at the side of the bed, halted and stared at her.
“My lord, I will attend mademoiselle, and tomorrow she should be, as you English say, good as new, non?”
Thomas didn’t reply to Hélène, just continued to stare at Amelia. She blinked against the intensity of his gaze.
“Worried I won’t be well enough to resume work tomorrow?” she whispered in an effort to blunt the sudden tension in the air.
Her voice seemed to snap him to attention as if coming out of a daze. “Don’t be absurd. What do you think I am, a tyrant?” he asked briskly.
“Oh, don’t scowl so. Just leave so I can rest. I can hardly do so with you hovering over me. And Hélène can—”
The knock at the door was followed immediately by the entrance of Lord Alex and a man who could only be the physician, given the black physician’s bag in his hand. Moreover, the older gentleman, tall and elegant with a thick thatch of snowy white hair, entered the chamber with an air of authority.
“Dr. Lawson was belowstairs treating one of the servants who appears to be suffering from something similar,” Lord Alex announced to no one in particular, advancing into the room as if anointed by some authority that he too was at liberty to be in attendance.
Leprosy might have received a warmer welcome than Thomas offered the arrival of his friend. Amelia noted the stiffening of his jaw and the coldness now glazing his eyes. Thomas gave Lord Alex a curt, dismissive nod.
“Good morning, Thomas. I gather this is the patient?” The doctor spoke with an informality that told Amelia he’d known Thomas many years, probably long before Thomas had gained his title.
The doctor advanced to her side and gazed down at her in a medically assessing manner.
“Yes, Dr. Lawson, this is Lady Amelia Bertram. She’s running a fever and is complaining of stomach pains.”
“Hmm. Well, let me take a look. Don’t worry, my dear, this will not hurt.” He gave her a reassuring smile, which did nothing to allay Amelia’s worries. Doctors had a way of mucking things up before eventually curing you. Of course, that’s if they didn’t kill you first.
Thomas turned to Cartwright, who stood several feet behind him. “I believe Dr. Lawson has this in hand.” In other words, You’ve done your good deed for the day, so run along your way.
In the midst of removing an instrument from his bag, the physician angled a look over his shoulder, and followed Thomas’s gaze with a discreet clearing of the throat. “Um, if you gentlemen would give me some time alone to examine Lady Amelia.”
Like the crack of a whip, his statement made Thomas more aware. He was standing by her bedside like that of a concerned spouse. “Yes, of course. We will confer once you’re done with the examination.”
Thomas reluctantly trailed Cartwright from the room. Once in the hall, Cartwright immediately confronted him. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Now is neither the time nor the place,” Thomas responded in clipped tones. “Why don’t you go and wash off that stench of horse from you?”
The quick flaring of his nostrils was the only indication that Cartwright was perturbed. They stood eye to eye for several seconds before his friend abruptly pivoted and walked away, his tread muffled by the velvet-pile carpeting.
Thomas intended to return to the main floor to await Dr. Lawson after Cartwright left to go to his chamber at the opposite wing of the house. But instead, he found himself pacing the hall outside Amelia’s