Alesandra countered with the explanation that she had already suffered with the illness and was therefore the only one suited to see to Colin’s needs. It was highly doubtful she would get sick again. Flannaghan, however, would be taking a much greater gamble, and how would they all ever get along if he became too sick to take care of them?
Flannaghan was finally convinced. He was kept busy with the running of the household, and even took on the added duty of answering all of her correspondence. The town house was off-limits to all callers. The physician, Sir Winters, returned to look at Raymond’s injury, and while he was there Alesandra consulted him about Colin’s illness. The physician didn’t go into Colin’s bedroom, for he had no wish to contract the illness, but he left a tonic he thought might settle the patient’s irritable stomach and suggested sponge baths to cool the fever.
Colin was a difficult patient. Alesandra tried to follow the physician’s advice by giving Colin a sponge bath late that night when his temperature increased. She stroked his chest and arms with the cooling cloth first, then turned to his legs. He seemed to be asleep, but when she touched his scarred leg, he almost came off the bed.
“I would like to die in peace, Alesandra. Now get the hell out of here.”
His hoarse bellow didn’t affect her, for she was still reeling from the sight of his injured leg. The calf was a mass of scar tissue from the back of his knee to the edge of his heel. Alesandra didn’t know how he’d come by the injury, but the agony he must have endured tore at her heart.
She thought it a miracle he could walk at all. Colin jerked the covers over his legs and told her again, though in a much more weary tone of voice, to leave his room.
There were tears in her eyes. She thought he might have seen them. She didn’t want him to know the brief glimpse at his leg had caused that reaction. Colin was a proud, unbending man. He didn’t want her pity, she knew, and he was obviously prickly about the scar.
Alesandra decided to turn his attention. “Your shouts are most upsetting to me, Colin, and if you continue to give me such harsh commands, I’ll probably cry like a child. I won’t leave, however, no matter how mean hearted you become. Now kindly give me your leg. I’m going to wash it.”
“Alesandra, I swear to God, I’m going to toss you out the window if you don’t leave me alone.”
“Colin, the sponge bath didn’t bother you at all last night. Why are you so irritable now? Is the fever higher tonight?”
“You washed my legs last night?”
“I did,” she blatantly lied.
“What the hell else did you wash?”
She knew what he was asking. She tried not to blush when she answered him. “Your arms and chest and legs,” she told him. “I left the middle alone. Do quit fighting me, sir,” she ordered as she snatched his leg from under the cover.
Colin gave up. He muttered something atrocious under his breath and closed his eyes. Alesandra dipped the cloth into the cold water, then gently washed both legs.
Her composure never faltered, and it was only after she’d covered him up again that she realized he’d been watching her.
“Now then,” she said with a sigh. “Don’t you feel better?”
His glare was his answer. She stood up and turned away from him so he wouldn’t see her smile. She put the bowl of water back on the washstand, then carried a goblet only half filled with water back over to her patient.
She handed him the drink, told him she would leave him alone for a little while, and then tried to do just that. He grabbed hold of her hand and held tight.
“Are you sleepy?” he asked her, his voice still gruff with irritation.
“Not particularly.”
“Then stay and talk to me.”
He moved his legs out of the way and patted the side of the bed. Alesandra sat down. She folded her hands together in her lap and desperately tried not to stare at his chest.
“Don’t you own any nightshirts?” she asked.
“No.”
“Cover yourself, Colin,” she suggested then. She didn’t wait for him to do as she ordered, but saw to the duty herself.
He immediately shoved the quilt back. He sat up, propped his back against the headboard, and let out a loud yawn.
“God, I feel like hell.”
“Why do you wear your hair so long? It reaches your shoulders now. It looks quite barbaric,” she added with a smile so he wouldn’t think she was insulting him. “’Tis the truth, it makes you look like a pirate.”
He shrugged. “It’s a reminder to me,” he said.
“A reminder of what?”
“Being free.”
She didn’t know what he was talking about, but he didn’t look inclined to explain further. He turned the topic then by asking her to catch him up on business matters.
“Did Flannaghan remember to send a note to Borders?”
“Do you mean your associate?”
“Borders isn’t an associate. He’s retired from the shipping business these days, but he helps out when I need him.”
“Yes,” she answered. “Flannaghan did send a messenger and Mister Borders is taking care of business. Each evening he sends the daily report, and they’re all stacked up on your desk for you to look over when you’re feeling better. You also received another letter from your partner,” she added with a nod. “I didn’t realize the two of you had opened a second office across the sea. You’ll soon be worldwide, won’t you?”
“Perhaps. Now tell me what you’ve been doing. You haven’t gone out, have you?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been taking care of you. I did write another note to Victoria’s brother begging a second audience. Neil responded with a terse note, denying my request. I do wish you hadn’t tossed him out.”
“I don’t want him coming back here, Alesandra.”
She let out a sigh. He gave her a good frown. “You’re stirring up unnecessary trouble.”
“I promised to be discreet. I’m worried about Victoria,” she added with a nod.
“No one else is,” he countered.
“Yes, I know,” she whispered. “Colin, if you were in trouble, I would do whatever it took to help you.”
He was pleased with her fervent promise. “You would?”
She nodded. “We are like family now, aren’t we? Your father is my guardian, and I try to think of you as a brother . . .”
“The hell with that.”
Her eyes widened. Colin looked furious with her. “You don’t want me to think of you as a brother?”
“Damned right I don’t.”
She looked crushed.
Colin stared at her with an incredulous expression on his face. The fever hadn’t diminished his desire for her at all. Hell, he’d have to be dead and buried before he could rid himself of his growing need to touch her.
She didn’t have a clue as to her own appeal. She sat so prim and proper next to him, wearing that virginal white gown that wasn’t suppose to be the least bit provocative but still damn well was. The dress was buttoned up to her chin. He thought it was extremely sexy. So was her hair. It wasn’t bound up behind her head tonight but fell in wild curls around her shoulders. She kept brushing the locks back over her shoulders in a motion he found utterly appealing.
Damned if he would let her think of him as her brother.
“Less than a week ago you were thinking of me as your future husband, remember?”
His unreasonable anger fueled her own. “But you declined, remember that?”
“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Alesandra.”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, Colin.”
He let out a long sigh. They were both exhausted, he told himself, and surely that was the reason their tempers were so fragile tonight.
“You’re a princess,” he said then. “And I’m . . .”
She finished his sentence for him. “A dragon.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “A dragon then. And princesses don’t marry
dragons.”
“Lord, but you’re irritable tonight.”
“I’m always irritable.”
“Then it’s a blessing we aren’t going to marry each other. You would make me quite miserable.”
Colin yawned again. “Probably,” he drawled out.
She stood up. “You need to go to sleep now,” she announced. She leaned over him and touched his forehead with her hand. “You’ve still got a fever, though it isn’t as high as last night. Colin, do you dislike women who say I told you so?”
“Hell, yes.”
She smiled. “Good. I remember telling you your suspicious nature would get you into trouble, and I was right, wasn’t I?”
He didn’t answer her. She didn’t mind. She was too busy gloating. She turned and walked over to the door connecting the bedrooms. She wasn’t quite finished goading him, however. “You just had to find out for yourself that Caine was really sick, and now look at you.”
She pulled the door wide. “Good night, dragon.”
“Alesandra?”
“Yes?”
“I was wrong.”
“You were?” She was thrilled by his admission and waited to hear the rest of his apology. The man wasn’t quite an ogre after all. “And?” she prodded when he didn’t go on.
“You’re still a brat.”
Colin’s fever continued to plague him for seven long days and nights. He awakened during the eighth night feeling human again and knew the fever was gone. He was surprised to find Alesandra in his bed. She was fully clothed and slept sitting up with her shoulders propped against the headboard. Her hair hung over her face, and she didn’t move at all when he got out of bed. Colin washed, changed into a clean pair of britches, and then went back to the bed. He lifted Alesandra into his arms, and even in his weakened condition, it didn’t take any effort at all. She was as light as air to him. He smiled when she snuggled up against his shoulder and let out a feminine little sigh. Colin carried her back to her own room, put her in bed, and covered her with a satin quilt.
He stood there staring down at her for a long while. She never opened her eyes. She was clearly exhausted from lack of sleep. He knew she had stayed by his side throughout most of the god-awful ordeal. Alesandra had taken good care of him, and, Lord, he didn’t know how he felt about that.
He accepted that he was in her debt, but, damn it all, his feelings went far beyond gratitude. She was beginning to matter to him. As soon as he acknowledged that truth, he tried to think of a way to soften her impact on him. Now wasn’t the time to get involved with any woman. Yes, the timing was all wrong, and he sure as certain wasn’t going to push his own goals and dreams aside now for any woman.
Alesandra wasn’t just any woman, though, and he knew, if he didn’t get away from her soon, it would be too late. Hell, it was complicated. His mind was filled with such conflicting emotions. He didn’t want her, he told himself again and again, and yet the thought of anyone else having her made his stomach turn.
He wasn’t making any sense. Colin finally forced himself to move away from the side of her bed. He went back through his bedroom and continued on into his study. He had at least a month’s work piled up now and it would surely take him that long just to transfer all the numbers into the ledgers. Burying himself in his work was just what he needed to take his mind off Alesandra.
Someone had done all the work. Colin was incredulous when he saw the ledgers. The entries were completely up-to-date, ending with today’s shipping numbers. He spent an hour double-checking to make certain the totals were accurate, then leaned back in his chair to go through the stack of notes left for him to read.
Caine had obviously taken charge, Colin decided. He would have to remember to thank his brother for his help. It had to have taken him the full week, for there were over fifty pages of transfers added, and Colin hadn’t been this current in over a year.
He turned his attention to his messages. Colin worked in his study from dawn until late afternoon. Flannaghan was pleased to see his employer was looking so much better. He carried up a breakfast tray and another tray of food at the noon hour. Colin had bathed and dressed in a white shirt and black britches, and Flannaghan remarked that the color was coming back to his lord’s complexion. The servant hovered like a mother hen and soon drove Colin to distraction.
Flannaghan again interrupted him around three that afternoon to give him messages from both his father and his brother.
The note from the Duke of Williamshire was filled with concern for Princess Alesandra’s safety. He’d obviously heard about the attack outside the Opera House. He requested a family meeting be set to settle Alesandra’s future and asked that Colin let him know the minute he was feeling well enough to bring the princess to their London town house.
Caine’s note was similar—confusing, too, for he made no mention of helping with the books. Colin thought Caine was simply being humble.
“It’s good news, isn’t it?” Flannaghan asked. “Your family has fully recovered. Cook talked to your father’s gardener and he said everyone was feeling fit again. Your father has already ordered his town house opened and should be settled in by nightfall. The duchess is with him, but your sisters have been ordered to stay in the country for another week or two. Do you wish for me to send a messenger with the news of your recovery?”
Colin wasn’t surprised by his servant’s information. The grapevine between the households was always up to the minute with the latest happenings. “My father wants a family council, or did you already find that out from the gardener?” he asked dryly.
Flannaghan nodded. “I had heard, but I wasn’t given a specific time.”
Colin shook his head in vexation. “Set the meeting for tomorrow afternoon.”
“At what time?”
“Two.”
“And your brother?” Flannaghan asked. “Should I send a messenger to him as well?”
“Yes,” Colin agreed. “I’m certain he’ll want to be there.”
Flannaghan hurried toward the door to see to his duties. He reached the entrance, then paused again. “Milord, is our home open to visitors yet? Princess Alesandra’s suitors have been begging entrance all week.”
Colin frowned. “Are you telling me the rakes are already camping out on my doorstep?”
Flannaghan flinched over the outrage in his employer’s voice. “Word has spread like fire that we have a beautiful, unattached princess residing with us.”
“Hell.”
“Precisely, milord.”
“No one is allowed entrance until after the meeting,” Colin announced. He smiled then. “You seem as irritated as I am about Alesandra’s suitors. Why is that, Flannaghan?”
The servant didn’t pretend indifference. “I am as irritated,” he confessed. “She belongs to us, Colin,” he blurted out, slipping back to their casual relationship of using first names. “And it is our duty to keep those lechers away from her.”
Colin nodded agreement. Flannaghan turned the topic just a little then. “What should I do about her father’s business associate? Dreyson has sent a note each and every morning begging an audience. He has papers for her signature,” he added. “But in one of the notes I chanced to read over Princess Alesandra’s shoulder, Dreyson also insisted he had alarming news to give her.”
Colin leaned further back in his chair. “How did Alesandra react to this note?”
“She wasn’t at all upset,” Flannaghan replied. “I questioned her, of course, and asked her if she shouldn’t be a little concerned. She said Dreyson’s alarm probably had something to do with a market downswing. I didn’t know what she was talking about.”
“She was talking about financial losses,” he explained. “Send a note to Dreyson, too, telling him that he is invited to call on Alesandra at my father’s town house. Set the time for three o’clock, Flannaghan. We should be through with family business by then.”
The servant still didn’t leave. “Was there something more you wante
d?”
“Will Princess Alesandra be leaving us?” The worry in the servant’s tone was evident.
“There is a good chance she’ll move in with my father and mother.”
“But, milord . . .”
“My father is her guardian, Flannaghan.”
“That may be,” the servant countered. “But you’re the only one fit enough to watch out for her. Begging your pardon for being so blunt, but your father is getting along in years and your brother has his wife and child to look after. That leaves you, milord. ’Tis the truth, I would be very distressed if anything happened to our princess.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her.”
The conviction in his employer’s voice appeased Flannaghan’s worry. Colin was acting like a protector now. He was a possessive man by nature, stubborn, and just a little bit obtuse, in Flannaghan’s estimation, because Colin was taking forever to come to the realization that he and Princess Alesandra were meant for each other.
Colin turned his attention back to his ledgers. Flannaghan coughed to let him know he wasn’t quite finished bothering him.
“What else is on your mind?”
“I just thought I would mention . . . that is, the incident in front of the Opera . . .”
Colin shut his book. “Yes?” he prodded.
“It’s affected her. She hasn’t said anything to me, but I know she hasn’t gotten over the incident. She’s still blaming herself for Raymond’s injury.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Flannaghan nodded. “She keeps apologizing to her guard and this morning, when she came downstairs, I could tell she’d been weeping. I believe you should have a talk with her, milord. A princess should not cry.”
Flannaghan sounded like an authority on the topic of royalty. Colin nodded. “All right, I’ll have a talk with her later. Now leave me alone. For the first time in months, I’m actually close to being caught up and I want to get today’s totals entered. I don’t wish to be disturbed until dinner.”
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