Whatever it was, it was good.
“You’re awake.” Fendall strode into the room and pressed her palm on Adeline’s forehead, nodded, then set about fluffing her pillow. “It’s definitely gone. How are you feeling?”
“Worn out, but my head is clear. How long was I sick, and”—she held up the mug—“what is this?”
“Four days. Her ladyship was getting ready to send for another doctor. Thank the Lord your fever broke last night.” Fendall took the mug. “That is orange juice.” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Lord Littleton had the fruit brought from his estate. I’ll order you a bath.”
His dog—he must have missed Maximus a great deal—and his oranges. What else had he done for her? The lavender. That must have been from him as well. Adeline did not remember it being used in a sickroom before. Frits must be the kindest man she knew. She must thank him . . . No, she must tell him how grateful she was for his care.
He was everything Adeline wanted in a husband.
A part of her was still the tiniest bit concerned that he was a rake. Then again, he was her rake, and he was not a bad rake. She wasn’t making any sense. He loved her. What did it matter what he was before?
Adeline was not that hungry, but she must regain her strength if she wanted to see him. “Food.” But when she turned her head, her maid had gone. Maximus snored softly. “I might as well sleep a little myself.”
The splashing of water stirred her from sleep again. It would feel good to be clean. She swung her legs over the bed and sat, causing her head to swim, and collapsed back onto her pillows. “I must be even weaker than I thought.”
“Here, my lady.” Fendall rushed to the bed. “Let me help you.” She slid her arm under Adeline’s shoulders and slowly lifted her so that she was sitting up again. “Take a few breaths, and I’ll walk with you to the bathtub.”
It took longer than Adeline could have imagined it would, but she was finally lying in warm water while the upstairs maid changed her bed linens. She would have liked to have had her hair washed, but that would have to wait until she was stronger.
Maximus got down from the bed and, after looking at her, scratched on the door, and someone let him out. “I hope my mother allows him back in again.”
“Her ladyship’s gone out.” Fendall picked up a bucket of clean water and frowned. “Let’s see if you can stand while I rinse you.”
Adeline nodded, and her maid helped her rise. She wobbled a bit, but managed not to fall. “I should eat something.”
“Let’s get you dry and back into bed.” Once that was done, her maid tugged the bellpull and set about cleaning up the bath towels. “His lordship sent over what he called a pot liquor. His old footman swore it would have you strong again in no time.”
She found herself looking forward to discovering what kind of broth it was. In fact, she wanted to know more about the Littleton household. “Has Lord Littleton been here often?”
“Every few hours, from what I’ve been told.” Her maid went to the door. “He tried to sit in the corridor, but her ladyship chased him off.”
Oh, my.
The knowledge did more than warm Adeline’s heart. It made that organ beat so fast, she thought it would take flight.
“I love you.”
She loved him too. Really and truly loved him. Why she had not recognized it before she didn’t know.
When the soup arrived, she was thrilled to discover it was thicker than she thought it would be and extremely tasty. Accompanying it was more orange juice and a bread so light it had to have been baked by Pierre. Regretfully, almost as soon as she finished the repast, Morpheus took her in his arms again.
For the next two days, all Adeline did was eat and sleep. Even her favorite books could not keep her awake long. No one came to take Maximus away, for which she was thankful. Nor did her mother demand that he be removed from her bedchamber or her bed. On the third day, the doctor visited and proclaimed she could get up, sit in a chair, and take the air as long as she did not tire herself.
“What you do not want to do, my lady, is to have a relapse,” he said sternly. “No gadding about until you have regained your strength.”
As soon as he left, she rang for Fendall. “I must wash my hair.”
“The bathtub should be here”—she cocked her head—“now.”
It was a warm day, and once Adeline’s hair had dried, she was allowed to sit in the garden. If she was lucky, Frits would stop by. Almost the moment she was on the chaise that had been carried to the terrace, Henrietta and Georgie were announced.
“I am so glad you are finally well enough to get up.” Georgie bussed Adeline’s cheek. “We were not allowed to visit you at all.”
Henrietta dropped a light kiss on Adeline’s forehead. “We offered to help nurse you, but we were told we could not take the risk of contracting the grippe.”
Georgie rolled her eyes. “As if we cared.”
