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‘Not to look after invalids. It had to be done properly.’ A wistful smile crossed his face and Henri knew that his mother must have been very important to him. She wished she had had a mother who encouraged people to look after family, rather than demanding attention all the time and telling Henri that she was a shamming and ungrateful daughter when she complained of an aching head. ‘Mother was very insistent on such things. To be nursed by her was truly to be taken care of. I only wish I could do the same.’
‘It was very kind of you, but I wouldn’t have minded if a servant sat with me.’
‘But I would have.’
Henri closed her eyes, thinking of what he’d said earlier about his mother dying of an infection. From an early age, she had learnt to accomplish things for herself because no one else would. Her needs were less important than her mother’s, or later Edmund’s or, later still, a host of other more deserving people. Far easier to help out than to be overlooked. But in the middle of the night with her ankle throbbing, the thought he was there, watching her, filled her with wonder. Intellectually she knew he’d do it for anyone in his care, but she did enjoy that brief instant of feeling special. ‘Men hate nursing—a fact of life.’
‘If the patient is asleep and quiet, it becomes a pleasure.’ His lips quirked upwards and he held out two books—one on chemistry and the other on archaeology. ‘Someday I’d like to find a way to extract aluminium cheaply, but I haven’t been able to find one yet. And I also want to know more about the latest advances in archaeology. I feel a more thorough approach rather than treating it like treasure hunting would work.’
‘Then I apologise for being restless. Far be it from me to interrupt an inventor at his work.’
‘You were a welcome distraction.’ He repositioned the pillow under her ankle and then straightened the blanket, tucking her in like a child. Henri’s heart panged. She hated to think how long it had been since anyone did something like that for her. Even Edmund had wanted her to look after him, rather than looking after her. It was only a little thing, but meant a lot. Someone cared enough to make certain she was comfortable.
‘I promise to be good and not to knock over any more candles.’ Henri concentrated on retying her nightcap, acutely aware of his long fingers and the way they had brushed the blanket. ‘You can go back to your post. I’m fully recovered.’
He remained next to the bed. The candlelight highlighted the planes of his face and the mysterious hollow at the base of his throat. Henri attempted to ignore the way her pulse leapt.
‘You may keep me amused for a little while. Your eyes are far too bright.’
He had noticed her eyes. He understood without her saying that she had no desire to sleep. Henri’s insides trembled with a warm unfamiliar ache.
She raised herself up on her elbows. ‘Miss Ravel has a tender heart. She brought the flowers up before I went to sleep. Thank you for relenting and allowing her to visit me openly.’
He placed his hand on her shoulder. A warm pulse went through her at his touch, but she held her body absolutely still. ‘I spoke with her stepmother and explained. There is little to be gained in actively encouraging Sophie to rebel. I am not so old that I can’t remember how much fun I had with rebelling.’
‘And her letter to Sebastian?’ Henri asked, seeking to distract her mind from the way warm ache seemed to radiate from his hand. ‘Will you allow communication?’
‘I will deliver it personally to your cousin. Unopened. We need to speak as he has returned. I can hardly forbid him visiting you. The gossips throughout Northumberland would be working overtime. Sophie came up here to protect her reputation, not provide for speculation.’
She stared at him in astonishment. ‘What caused the sea change?’
‘He ran like a redshank up here after Sophie left. It is impressive. I want to know why so I can better assess the situation. I take a pragmatic view on these things. Like you, I do gather intelligence.’ He tilted his head. ‘A calm rational approach. Logic.’
Henri clamped her mouth shut. The temptation to crow about her victory nearly overwhelmed her, but she’d be generous in victory. Someday soon, he’d admit the errors of his ways. But she’d wait and allow him to discover it on his own. ‘The scientific method in operation.’
‘It is far better than the methods you employ, Henri.’
‘There is nothing wrong with my methods. They bring results. Instinct and intuition. Precise planning produces perfection.’ She moved her ankle and searing pain shot through her. A groan escaped her throat as she clawed at the coverlet.
