by Jane Charles
His heart swelled that she was the one beside his sickbed and had been there for two days. However, he wasn’t pleased that she’d not taken care of herself. Eve should not be sleeping in a chair and he’d have a talk with Norbright at the first opportunity. His friend should have never allowed it. If someone needed to watch him for whatever reason, there were servants aplenty at Harrington Manor.
Yet, his heart swelled with love, knowing that Eve had put aside her own comfort to be at his side.
“How are you feeling?”
He was achy and tired, but it wasn’t in Henry to complain, especially since Eve was clearly exhausted from caring for him. “Hungry,” he finally answered.
Her smile widened. “I’ll inform the cook.”
In an instant, Henry truly realized where he was and glanced down, and blew out a sigh. He preferred to sleep in nothing. Thank goodness someone had put one of those blasted sleep shirts on him. Except it was damp, as were the linens. “I’d also like assistance in changing.” He tried to sit up. “Everything is damp, as if I crawled into bed following a bath without drying off.”
“That’s because of the fever breaking. A person often sweats,” She assured him. “Toby will see that you have a new shirt and linens.”
She turned away and Henry reached out to grab her hand. Eve stopped and looked back at him.
“You sat by my bed for two days?”
“Of course,” she said, then looked into his eyes. “You are my guardian.”
Her words stung. Was that all he was to her? She had become everything to him.
“Thank you.”
All she did was give a quick nod then quit the room.
Eve darted from the chamber and went in search of a maid, quickly ordered something for Kilsyth to eat and gave instruction for changing his linen then rushed to the chamber Lady Norbright had been kind enough to give her. Once alone, Eve sank into the closest chair. She was surprised she’d made it this far, as her legs were so shaky that they threatened to give out.
Relief flowed through her from the tips of her fingers to the top of her toes. The fever had broken and Kilsyth was going to survive. She’d been so afraid that he’d die, but had no idea how much she feared until he was awake and talking.
The fever was gone and now he’d recover. While she was happy that he’d be well, she’d now have to face what she’d learned.
He’d lied to her. Eve’s learning to speak properly had had nothing to do with a wager. He’d determined her worth to him and the Home Office that very first day she’d arrived in his home, and at no time had he asked if she’d like to be of assistance. Instead, he had carried on as if the betterment was all for her, so that she could gain a position as a governess, when that was never his intention.
As much as she’d like to tell him to go hang, Eve would not run from him a second time. Instead, she would wait until he’d recovered some of his health and confront him.
Why had he come after her? That was something Pickmore couldn’t answer.
She shook her head. He knew why Kilsyth had traveled to Kirksbury. They all did, but they refused to tell her. Therefore, Eve could only surmise one answer. He wanted his future spy back.
Spy! Even in her wildest imagination, she’d never have believed that Kilsyth trained spies. Yet, it explained his intensity and attention to detail. Those he took under his wing would eventually be put in dangerous situations and not one mistake could be made. Just as he had trained her, working with her for hours upon hours to speak correctly. And all along, Pickmore knew what he was doing. She didn’t know when the Devils had learned, but it was no secret what Kilsyth’s intentions were for Eve and it irritated her to no end because not once had anyone asked if spying on Society to find French sympathizers was something she wished to do. Instead, Kilsyth intended to use her.
Was he ever going to tell her? Did he assume that after an event, they’d have pleasant conversations and he’d ask what she’d heard or what was discussed in hopes that she’d provide the information he needed.
At the scratch at the door, Eve called for them to enter, hoping that Kilsyth’s fever hadn’t spiked again.
“I understand that Kilsyth is finally improving,” Claudia said as she entered the room.
“Yes.”
Her eyes searched Eve. “Did you confront him about his actions?”
“No. He is still too weak. I’ll wait until he’s stronger and can better defend himself.”
“You are far more considerate than I’d be,” Claudia chuckled and settled into the opposite chair. “What do you intend to do now?”
“I intend to return to the school. Now that I know that Kilsyth will survive, I will leave Harrington Manor.” Eve turned fully to her hostess. “Thank you for allowing me to remain here when I first arrived and these last few days.”
“Eve, you are welcome to stay and visit anytime you wish.”
“Thank you.” Of course, she’d never return no matter what the circumstances. These were Kilsyth’s friends, loyal to him, and she’d soon no longer be a part of his life.
“I suppose I should pack my things.” Eve stood.
“You are leaving now?” Claudia asked in alarm.
“I’m no longer needed.” Not that she was ever really needed. She was here because she feared her guardian, the gentleman she’d come to love, was going to die. As he wasn’t, it was time that she put her mind to reclaiming her heart.”
“It is supper time,” Claudia insisted.
“I don’t wish to join the others, but thank you.”
“Of course, you are exhausted.” Her hostess stood. “I insist that you rest before going anywhere. You’ve gotten little sleep, if any, since you arrived.”
She’d dozed for a few hours in a chair, but that was all. And truly, before facing the school, students, her sister, and even Kilsyth, Eve wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week.
“I’ll send a maid to help you prepare for bed and have a tray delivered to your room. Tomorrow we’ll discuss what to do next.”
“I already know what I’m going to do,” Eve answered.
“You do?”
“I will confront Kilsyth about his lies, but not until he is stronger.”
“Then what do you intend to do?”
“That will depend on his answers,” Eve responded. She’d be strong and not be swayed by him no matter what he said. Not that there was anything he could say to diminish the fact that he’d lied and used her.
“You won’t go easy on him, will you?” Claudia asked with a grin.
“By the time I’m finished, Kilsyth will wish he’d confronted the French Army instead of me.”
Chapter 27
Henry hated lying in bed with nothing to do. It was a bloody waste of time, yet, his body revolted each time he tried to rise. While his mind wished more activity, the rest of him wanted to rest. And, he was so bloody weak. The few times he’d crossed the room to relieve himself had left him exhausted by the time he returned to the bed.
Further, he’d been left alone most of the day. His friends, at different times, had come in to sit, but the conversations had not lasted long and they found reasons to be somewhere else. And, the shorter the conversations became, the more concerned Henry grew that they were keeping something from him.
But, the worst of all was that Eve had disappeared. This morning he’d been told that she was still asleep. After he’d learned that she’d rarely left his side for two days, he certainly didn’t begrudge her rest. However, in the afternoon he was told that she’d returned to the school. She’d only kept vigil, waiting for him to die, then left.
No, she hadn’t been waiting for him to die, but feared it. Yet, if she cared so much, why had she left him—again?
Did Eve only feel a loyalty because she was his ward? Did he mean nothing more to her?
Henry had thought there was some caring and he’d hoped for more, but she had left the moment he no longer needed her.
W
ould he ever win her over? Had he been so horrid to her that all chance of winning her love was gone? Would he be forced to live the rest of his life without the one person who made it whole?
The pain was deep but Henry knew that if Eve never loved him, he had only himself to blame.
“How long have I been in this chamber?” He asked Pickmore when he came to visit that afternoon.”
“Six days.”
Six days too long.
“How soon before I can leave?”
Pickmore shrugged. “That depends on your stubbornness and when your body decides that it is healed.”
His body is what had betrayed him. He’d never suffered a moment of illness his entire life and Henry had gone so far as to pride himself on his good health and a strong constitution. Yet, he’d been laid low by a childhood illness, that if he’d suffered when most did, wouldn’t have delayed his conversation with Eve.
Henry lifted his hand and looked at his arm. The rash was still there. “When will this disappear?”
“A few days?” Pickmore shrugged as if he wasn’t certain. “But, if it’s any consolation, it’s gone from your face.”
Well, that was something, he supposed.
Maybe this was a mind over body situation. If Henry concentrated hard enough, he could will the rash to disappear and hurry this bloody convalescence along.
“I know that you are anxious to be out of the bed, but I urge caution or you might relapse.”
Henry slid a glance to his friend. “I assume you believe two more days are sufficient enough?”
He blinked and smiled. “Of course. That should do perfectly.”
“Thus, you win the wager and there is no risk of me taking ill again and proving Keegan right that I’m too stubborn for my own good.”
“Well, he isn’t wrong,” Pickmore agreed. “Further, I certainly wouldn’t risk your health on a wager.”
“Unlike I risked yours.”
Pickmore frowned.
“If I hadn’t insisted on getting here as quickly as possible, we would have never had an accident and my three friends wouldn’t be recovering from injuries.”
“The wager wasn’t yours,” Pickmore reminded him. “It wasn’t a wager at all. At least not ours and we all encouraged Jamie to beat his older brother’s record.”
Henry used to be nothing more than a spare not too long ago. “It nearly got us all killed,” Henry barked.
“We survived and we will all be back to normal in a few weeks,” Pickmore smiled. “The accident was not your fault.”
“The others might not agree with you.”
Pickmore frowned. “Since when have you ever given in to self-depreciation, Kilsyth? What the blazes is the matter with you?”
“I’m tired of lying in bed,” he grumbled.
“Are you certain that is all?” Pickmore asked with a knowing look.
“Neither Keegan nor Ashford stayed longer than a moment to check on me, as if they are avoiding my person. I can only assume it’s because upon reflection that they blame me for their injuries.”
Pickmore shook his head. “They don’t wish to overtax you.” Then he frowned. “Though it would serve Keegan well to do so since he is the one who wagered three weeks.”
“Norbright has stopped in, but claims estate business is pressing.”
“Well, he does own an estate, the very one we happen to be visiting,” Pickmore leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “What is really bothering you, Kilsyth?”
“Eve!” he final blurted out. “She left me again and I might not get her back.”
Pickmore started to chuckle but stopped himself with a wince and a steadying hand to his ribs.
“She’ll come around, I’m certain.”
“Not to see me, apparently,” Henry grumbled.
“Perhaps not, which is why when you recover, in two days of course, you will go to her.”
“Who’s to say she won’t disappear again?” He really was feeling sorry for himself, an emotion Henry was quite unused to, yet at this moment, one he embraced.
“Oh, she’ll be there. In fact, I have no doubt she’ll be waiting for you to call.” At that, Pickmore stood. “Get some rest, Kilsyth. You are going to need your strength.”
What the bloody hell did Pickmore mean by that? Henry would have asked, but the man was gone before he could.
When the last student who’d become ill left their bed, Eve knew that soon Kilsyth would be darkening the doorstep of the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies. He’d come all this way to take her back to London and Eve wasn’t so foolish to think that he’d leave without calling on her to convince her to return with him.
He probably assumed he could order her back to Mayfair since he was her guardian and until the time, she reached her majority had the power to dictate where she’d live.
And, as Eve had predicted, when tea time arrived, so did Lord Kilsyth to call on her.
Instead of greeting him immediately, Eve returned to the chamber she now shared with Cait to check her appearance. After she’d seen her reflection after leaving Kilsyth that afternoon, she’d been appalled at her appearance. She’d not make the same mistake again. Though it might make little difference in how the two got on, having her hair in place, color in her cheeks, and a modest, yet clean and wrinkle free dress made all the difference in her confidence. It was her armor and all that she had.
When she entered, Kilsyth was standing at a window, looking out, and Eve took another moment to compose herself. She’d not give in to emotion. Though her love simmered just below the surface, along with it was her irritation and anger. At this moment, however, she feared which one would boil over first and prayed that none of them did and that when he did leave here, any association the two shared would be broken. The only connection to be shared was that of guardian and ward, from a distance, and only until Eve achieved her majority and with no need for the two of them to interact until that time.
“I’m pleased to see that you’ve fully recovered,” Eve announced coolly as she entered the sitting room.
Kilsyth slowly turned, his grey eyes growing dark in his study of her.
Eve’s breath hitched. Keeping her emotions in check might be a little more difficult than she’d hoped.
The maid entered a moment later and set a tea service in the middle of the table. Eve moved forward to pour, anything to occupy her hands.
“I know you prefer coffee, but Mrs. Wiggons does not keep any in stock.”
“Tea will do.” Kilsyth took the seat opposite Eve, his study just as intent, as he took the offered cup.
Eve then prepared her own, the uncomfortable silence stretching between them.
“Why did you leave?”
“I’d served my purpose and was no longer of use to you,” she answered and took a sip of tea.
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You’d won your wager. I performed well, which was clear in how you and Pickmore celebrated and congratulated yourselves after the ball.”
His eyes widened and Kilsyth leaned forward. “Is it because we did not compliment you as well?”
“It doesn’t really matter, if you must know.” Except it had. That night had crushed her as the two had carried on as if she hadn’t exist.
“I’m sorry. My treatment of you was callous, but it was not without reason.”
Other than he’s an arse. Yet Eve said nothing. Just simply lifted an eyebrow and sipped her tea.
“I’d like you to come back.”
“Why?”
“Because we do well together.”
Eve snorted. She knew why he really wanted her to return to London but she’d not let on just yet. “You wish for someone to fetch your slippers, tidy your office and to act as secretary. I am not so special. Anyone could be hired to do those tasks.”
Kilsyth leaned forward, intensity returning to his grey eyes. “But you are, Eve. You are special.”
“As your ward.�
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“No, I don’t care about any of that.” He set his tea cup aside. “You are special for other reasons.” He stood and began to pace.
Eve had rarely seen Kilsyth lack control, but he was clearly agitated and as wrong as it may be, she enjoyed having him confounded for a change.
“If it is not to pick up after you, then I can assume it is because you still wish for me to spy and seek out French sympathizers among Society for you.”
He stilled and slowly turned, pinning her with a questioning and cautious look. “Whatever gave you such an idea?”
“You did, Lord Kilsyth,” Eve answered calmly before she took another sip of her tea.
“Me? I never uttered a single word about spying.”
“Perhaps not to me, but Pickmore and your friends knew.”
Kilsyth stormed forward. “They told you?” he demanded.
Good heavens, Eve wasn’t certain she’d ever really heard him raise his voice but this bit of information had certainly set him on edge and once again, she enjoyed seeing the calm and controlled Earl of Kilsyth completely flustered. However, the disbelief in his tone and eyes was almost her undoing and it was all Eve could do not to laugh. Instead, she sipped from her tea in an effort to hide her smile.
“No, Lord Kilsyth, you did,” she finally answered as she set her cup aide. “In your fevered state and delirium, you mentioned a number of words. Your friends simply clarified my suspicious.” Though, that isn’t exactly how it had occurred, the words would have continued to bother her and she was quite certain that had she eventually asked the correct questions, she would have gotten the answers she sought. However, Kilsyth didn’t need to know that it was his friends who had let on that what Kilsyth had muttered was far more than words spoken in a fevered state.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured almost too quietly for her to hear as he turned on his heel and thrust his fingers through his hair.
“Are you angry?” He asked after a moment, his back still to her.