Captain Jones's Temptation - Audrey Harrison Page 0,39

nothing new to offer. He entered the chamber and noticed Lydia’s frown.

“No change, Miss Bolton?”

“Yes. I think there is.” Lydia stepped back to allow the doctor access to Matthew.

After a few moments, the doctor smiled. “The fever has broken. I was beginning to think it never would.”

“I was too,” Lydia admitted.

“He is still a long way from recovery,” the doctor cautioned. “But this is a good sign.” Leaving instructions for what should be done when Matthew woke up, the doctor eventually left Lydia alone with her patient.

She sat for a while, watching the rise and fall of Matthew’s chest as he breathed more steadily than he had since their arrival. She sent up many prayers of thanks, which replaced the prayers that had begged for his recovery. Eventually, she was able to move her stiff shoulders, realising that she had been tense for days and holding herself rigid. Her shoulders ached, but she did not care. He had overcome the first major hurdle.

“You are going to be well,” she said quietly. “If I need to spend every hour of every day caring for you, so be it.”

“That sounds delightful,” came the croaked voice. His eyes remained closed, but his lips twitched upwards in a very feeble smile.

“Hmm, it’s not a good thing that you heard that,” Lydia said, but she brazenly sat on the edge of the bed and touched his arm. “It could turn you into a very poor patient.”

“A guarantee.”

Lydia smiled. “I knew I should have been more circumspect.” She leaned forward and brushed Matthew’s hair away from his forehead. It fell down in front of his eyes even when lying flat. “I am glad you came back to us. You had me worried there for a time.”

Matthew slowly opened his eyes, blinking a number of times before he could clear his vision enough to focus on her. “Tell me you aren’t an angel,” he whispered.

“No. I am not.”

“That’s good. I am glad to be awake. It was very dark.”

“Shhh,” Lydia said. She stroked his face gently. She had never been as brazen in her life, but she could not help herself. He probably would not remember anyway; he was barely conscious.

As he fell back into a deep sleep, she was relieved to see he looked more relaxed. For once, the future was looking brighter than it had been. She was no fool. She did not presume anything; he could awaken, recover and go back to London, but if that was what he did, she would still be happy, for he was alive and would be well.

*

“What do you mean, you’ve neither seen nor heard from them?” Samuel stormed. He was standing in the study of his long-time friend and former cavalry officer, Miles Longdon.

“There has been no arrival or word from Dunn, or anyone else for that matter. My first knowledge of this Miss Hardy is when you have mentioned her name this last half hour.” Miles watched with some amusement as his normally composed friend barely contained himself, fists in balls, jaw clenched, and looking as if he did not know whether to stamp his feet in frustration or hit something hard.

“Well, where are they?” Samuel demanded.

“As much as I hate to be unhelpful, I have no idea,” Miles repeated.

“Damn it. Blast. Bloody well damn it. Where can they be?” Samuel paraded to and fro in front of the desk behind which Miles sat. He had told Miles of the attack and what the plan had been. There had been no opportunity to warn Miles in advance of the impending arrival for fear of the possible interception of messages.

“Dunn would not have diverted from the plan without good reason,” Miles pointed out.

“No.”

“Could there have been more men on the route they were to take?”

“Possibly, but surely we would have heard something about it by now?” Samuel sat down at the thought of their being captured and in danger for days without his knowing about it. He had not hurried to Barrowfoot House, because he had presumed they would be safe there. He felt sick to the stomach. “She could be in danger and I didn’t know.”

Miles watched his friend assessingly. “The child?”

“What? Who? Yes, of course.”

Letting out a crack of laughter, Miles grinned. “Which one is the poor sap who has besotted you?”

Samuel shot Miles a look that spoke volumes. “I should show you exactly what I think of that comment, but fortunately for you I have not the time.”

“Very interesting,” Miles said, but held up