make a great deal of that and did so regularly—he found a few of them scattered around the table.
“What are you doing out of bed?” His mother hurried to him. Daniel stood patiently as she placed a palm on his forehead, then looked into his eyes. His hand was grabbed, and she checked his pulse was not galloping. He withstood it while exchanging knowing looks with his siblings. Resistance was futile when Sarah Dillinger was tending one of her children.
“Well, you seem better. But you must rest, Daniel. These things can come back if you do not show caution. I shall have some broth prepared for when you return to your lodgings.”
“Later today.” He kissed her cheek. “I am well now, I promise.”
She studied him with a look that suggested he would be well when she decided he was and not before.
“Sit, and I will have Cook bring you some food and a nice hot cup of tea.”
“Real food?”
“Broth is real food.”
“No, Mother, it is not.” It once was, Daniel had to concede. Once their mother had struggled to feed her children more than watery stew with a few vegetables and maybe the odd chunk of meat. Often the Dillinger children had gone to bed hungry, with their stomachs gnawing for something to fill them.
“Why does your hair look like a bird has found a home?” Daniel sat beside Mary. His mother placed a steaming cup of tea before him.
“It doesn’t.” She patted her curls. “I was perfecting a new style with the help of Terri.”
Terri was the French housemaid who had come to live with the Dillinger family years ago and never left.
“Then can I suggest you go back upstairs until you get it right.”
Mary lobbed a slice of toast at him.
“You will not throw food about the place like heathens,” their mother said. Hands on hips, she glared at them, but he saw the smile.
“He started it.” Mary gave him a look. The kind of look that had him buttering her toast slowly and taking a large bite, then smiling.
They heard a commotion outside the door, then his father and Oliver entered.
“Family,” Oliver grunted as he pulled out a seat. His mother poured tea for the two men also.
“Tell me what has happened to the people on that boat, Oliver. Did most of them survive?” Daniel asked.
“Most, but not all. You and the others who went back into the water saved many, and for that there is a great deal of gratitude. Even our prince has commended you all on your bravery.”
Daniel nodded while working through how to ask after Abby without it seeming obvious.
“I had a visit from Lord Blake yesterday, brother. He wanted me to thank you for saving his family from drowning.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t down to just me. There were plenty of other people in that water.”
“And yet he wishes to thank you personally with a small gift. Mary told him you were there when she landed in the water.”
“I don’t want a gift.”
Oliver’s mouth curved upward. “I told him that. But he was insistent.”
“No.” Daniel chewed his toast. “I need nothing.”
“Apparently a nice painting is being delivered to your rooms. As Lord Blake is known for his collection, I shall be interested to see what it is.”
“Excellent,” Daniel said with little enthusiasm.
“I had another visitor, four of them actually.”
“Who?” Around them, their family were holding their own conversation while listening to theirs, a skill that most Dillingers had acquired at an early age.
“The Deville brothers.”
“What? Why?” Daniel wasn’t happy about that. “Did they threaten you?”
“Do you think I would allow that?”
“No.” He exhaled slowly. He seemed to be constantly on the verge of losing control these days. It had to stop.
“Why would they threaten Oliver?” Mary asked.
“Because they have a sister and Daniel and she—”
“There is nothing to add to that,” Daniel interrupted.
“Clearly there is if you are looking awkward, which is something you rarely are. Therefore, we must hear more,” Mary said. “Besides, she’s the woman who has been cropping up often in connection with you, Daniel. You were grumpy because she misled you, then there was—”
“It’s nothing. I met her, we talked, and then—”
“He saved her life twice,” Oliver added, holding Daniel’s gaze.
“Really? I want to hear this story also.” Their father joined the conversation. In fact, they’d all stopped to focus on what Oliver was saying.
Excellent. He sent his brother a foul look.
“I actually don’t know the entire story, but by the Deville brothers’ reaction, there is something to it.”