Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,114

unbuttoned, as if having been hastily put on. “My lord, you must come at once. My sister is near death.”

Without giving Nevan’s words a second thought, Campbell dashed up the stairs. His chest tightened. This was precisely why he should never have welcomed Charles Ogilvy into his world as outsiders didnae stand a chance in Dundaire. The curse that plagued his bloodline was merciless and cruel, valuing nothing save for itself. And now Sarina’s life was at risk and it was all his doing.

Bloody hell.

He stormed into the green room as Tipton and Nevan followed a few steps behind.

A sick feeling fluttered in Campbell’s stomach. What if he was too late? Would the curse claim Nevan next? God, but he hoped that wouldnae be the case.

Rounding the settee, he found Sarina slumped over, her arms limp at her side. Beads of sweat covered her forehead as a soft whimper fell from her lips.

“How long has she been like this?” He reached for her wrist.

“At least ten minutes,” Nevan said. “I tried to wake her, but she refused to come round. She needs to be in bed as proper sleep will shake her from the nightmare, but I couldn’t carry her from the parlor.”

Campbell placed his hand on Sarina’s head. “She’s suffering from a high fever.” He eyed Tipton standing to his right. “Fetch the surgeon.”

“No!” Nevan grabbed Campbell’s arm. “A doctor will do my sister no good. ‘Tis the Ogilvy gift that consumes her and the only thing that will force it away is proper rest. Please, my lord. I beg you, take my sister to bed.”

He doubted Sarina would agree with Nevan’s idea, but considering the boy obviously knew his sister’s habits, perhaps getting her to bed was the answer. He glanced at Tipton who remained nearby. “I’ll need water and a clean cloth.”

Without saying a word, Tipton was off to fetch the items.

Nevan, however, remained firmly in place, his fingers still baring down on Campbell’s forearm. Apparently, he must have realized his actions as the lad suddenly released his hold and stepped back an inch. “Please save my sister.”

“I’ll do my best.” Leaning forward, Campbell slipped his arms around Sarina and lifted her. He carried her into the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed as Nevan was quick to turn down the blankets. “How often does she suffer from this…gift?”

“Nightly,” Nevan answered. “Though the nightmares she dreams are not hers.”

“Nightmares are always our own. They are merely figments of our imagination, Mr. Ogilvy. They are nae real.”

“Sarina’s are real. And I know for fact they are not of her own doing. She never dreams of herself, only of others. Nightmare fancies her. Which is why I am determined to find my sister a respectable husband who can shield her from this misery.”

He doubted a respectable husband would have the hardened nerves needed to battle Nightmare and its haunted army, though saying so would probably dash Nevan’s hopes. And he had no plans to devastate the proud young lad. “Perhaps I should send for a maid to tend to yer sister for the night.”

“That won’t be necessary. I just need a bit more help and then I can watch over her. I’m used to it.”

The concerned look gracing Nevan’s face, devastated Campbell. So much so, that the sudden urge to protect both Sarina and her brother, overwhelmed him. He’d do anything to keep them safe now.

Rushing into the bedroom, Tipton brought a pitcher of water with matching bowl and two folded cloths. He placed them on the small table stand next to the bed before stepping aside for Campbell to pour water over one of the cloths.

“I’ll do my best to try to get your sister’s fever to break, Mr. Ogilvy,” Campbell said. “But if there’s no change within the hour, I insist we send for the surgeon.”

“Very well,” Nevan said. “I suppose having a doctor can’t hurt. But you must not tell him about my sister’s gift.”

“It will remain our secret, Mr. Ogilvy.” Campbell brushed the wet cloth over Sarina’s forehead, then gently peeled the stray strands of her flaxen hair off her face. Never had he met so brave a woman.

“She’ll need her dress removed,” Nevan said, standing at the foot of the bed. “And you’ll have to do it as I have no notion how ladies’ garments work.”

He was nae going to undress Miss Ogilvy. “I think she’ll be fine as she is.”

Nevan shook his head. “Undoing the dress will aide in undoing the

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