He was affixing his seal when the food arrived. “Send this as soon as possible.” He handed the boy another crown. “Wait for an answer. There is more when I know it’s been delivered.”
“Yes, me lord. My older brother’s to take it.”
Once the lad left, Richard carried the tray to the bedroom and climbed in next to Pae. Her long, golden hair curled around her shoulders. Moving it carefully, he drew her to him.
Turning in his arms, she opened her eyes. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is perfect. I ordered hot food and sent a message to your stepson that we have been held up. Are you hungry?”
“A little. I would really like a cup of tea.”
“You should have some soup as well. I would not want you to catch a chill.”
“There is no need to worry about that.” She took a sip of tea and sighed. “As you know, I am never ill.”
“Nevertheless.” He gave her a wicked grin. “I predict that you will need your strength.”
An hour later, after they had once again made love, the rain stopped. She was his now. Unfortunately, he had no idea how he would keep her. Would she agree to continue seeing him once they returned to Town and her children?
Chapter Seven
The next morning Patience woke with a headache. That was strange. She had felt fine when she’d gone to bed. “I can’t be ill.”
“You can be, my lady.” Reid’s no-nonsense voice seemed to echo in the room. She came over and fluffed Patience’s pillow. “Master Walter woke up with something this morning as well.”
Walter, Grace’s fourteen-year-old brother, was Patience’s daughter Augusta’s closest friend. “Augusta?”
“Pink of health, but her ladyship is taking no chances. They have been moved out of the schoolroom floor to separate chambers.” Reid set Patience’s tea down on the table. “Lady Augusta is insisting on nursing him.”
“Naturally.”
“Her ladyship said that if you didn’t mind she may, but none of the other children is to be around them.”
Patience did not feel up to the argument she would have with her daughter if she attempted to keep Augusta from her friend. “Do we know what it is yet?”
“No, my lady. Master Walter is being made to breathe under some sort of tent to clear his nose.”
Patience tried to sniff and found herself breathing through her mouth. “I think I may need a tent as well.”
“I’ll get it started right away.”
She took another sip of tea. The steam coming off the cup seemed to help. Thank goodness Grace had it all in hand. From what Charlotte had said, her sister was ruthless whenever any of them became ill. As if the fever was an enemy to be vanquished.
Yet why did it have to happen right after the most glorious day of her life? The memory of Richard’s hands on her made her nipples hard and desire for him speared through her body.
Then she sneezed.
How was it possible to feel so miserable and so lustful at the same time? It was probably Fate’s way of punishing her for wanting too much, Richard and her children.
The tent turned out to be a large piece of cloth set up with a bowl of some herbal concoction. Nevertheless, it worked. As had the plaster on her chest that the cook sent up.
Her maid entered the room holding a small vase of bluebells. “These came for you. Lord Wolverton brought them himself.”
How she wished she were well enough to see him, to be in his arms again, but she could not even rise to write him a note. “Thank you for bringing them to me.”
“He asked after you, and was told you’re not feeling well.”
That was an understatement. “I am sure I’ll be better tomorrow.”
