hated burning up with fever.
That morning, the fever had abated somewhat, but from experience, he knew it was likely to build as the day progressed. “So I’ll possess my soul in patience and lie here in this bed.”
Sadly, bearing with inactivity had never been his strong suit.
Listlessly, he picked up the book on Hinckley Hall. He was still leafing through it, but while he’d stumbled on points of interest here and there, he found it difficult to concentrate for more than ten minutes at a time.
When Ellie finally walked through his door, he was delighted to see her, but since he hadn’t talked for hours, his attempt to greet her only brought on another paroxysm of coughing.
She rushed to fetch a glass of some cordial Wally had brought up earlier that morning.
He obediently sipped, then lay back on his pillows and quietly said, “Hello.”
She noticed the book lying discarded on the bed. “Have you already finished it?”
“No.” He paused, then confessed, “It’s interesting, but I can’t concentrate for long enough to make much headway.”
“Ah, I see.”
He heaved a sigh. “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve decided I should do all I can in pursuit of my own recovery, including doing precisely as you and Mrs. Kemp bid me.” He met her eyes and tried to infuse resigned obedience into his gaze. “Whatever you say, I will do—even if you tell me to lie quiet for a week.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m not sure an entire week will be required, but we’ll see.”
He frowned. “I hoped you would tell me it’ll only take another day.”
She laughed wryly and settled once more in the wing chair facing the bed. “It’s possible that another two days abed will see you sufficiently improved to at least sit out in a chair, but listening to the wheeze in your lungs just now, I can’t imagine that it will take less time than that.”
She bent to the sewing basket nestled at her feet.
The constant itch of his restlessness eased at the evidence she intended to remain and keep him company. He watched her sort through garments and select one to mend. As she smoothed the fabric of a summer gown over her lap, focusing on a ripped seam, he thought of the numerous items he’d already seen her repair. “That basket of mending resembles a bottomless pit.”
She smiled. “Maggie insists on flounces—they are all the rage for girls her age—but she’s a hoyden and promptly rips them. And she’s a terrible needlewoman, so”—she brandished her needle—“I step in.”
“Hmm. I must confess that as the baby of the family, I’ve never been called on to step in and help, or even cover up for, my siblings.”
“But have they stepped in and helped you?”
He thought about that. “I mentioned Ryder, and he’s always there, my big brother, ready to step in any time I need help. Yet over the past decade, we’ve all, each in our own way, been pursuing what you might call our independent quests to discover our own paths in life.”
She glanced briefly at him. “That sounds rather adventurous. Have your siblings found their paths?”
“Yes.” He chose his words carefully. “Randolph—Rand—has become involved in the financing of inventions, while Kit builds yachts, and Stacie organizes musical performances.” That might be downplaying his siblings’ roles, but in essence, was the truth.
“And your path lies in examining paintings.”
“Paintings, sculptures, and the like.” He studied her downbent head. “So what paths are your siblings likely to take? They’re old enough to have some inkling of what calls to them.”
She tipped her head, plainly thinking. She set several stitches before replying, “Harry might be nearly twenty-one, but I sense he’s still uncertain of what he truly wants.”
When she paused, he gently probed, “But you have some idea of what would suit him, don’t you?”
Although she was looking down, he caught her swift smile. “Harry’s at that age where admitting that what he truly wants is exactly the life that’s lying before him seems, to him, to be unambitious.”
“You think he’ll enjoy taking up the reins of the Hall estate?”
She nodded. “He spent all his childhood here, and he loved every minute of walking the woods, hunting, and fishing—all the typical country pursuits. His time at university gave him a broader perspective, and I think he feels he ought to be thinking about some more sophisticated occupation, but deep down, he’s still the same person with the same talents and likes—he just needs to realize that.”
“And that there’s no shame