“Yes. Youwilleat. Youwillrest. Youwillhelp Nurse Ellis, notreplaceher. And you willnotexhaust yourself in an attempt to prove something neither the child nor I asked of you.”
Frances pushed back her chair. “I am not attempting to prove anything. She was crying.”
“She is an infant. Infants cry.”
“And decent people respond.”
“May I remind you that there were other decent people available, people whom I have hired for that exact reason.”
“She just wanted to be held.” Frances stood too quickly, her temper lending her more strength than her body possessed. “I will not ignore a crying child, rule or no rule.”
The room suddenly tilted. For one terrible instant, the candle flames blurred into gold streaks and the table slipped away from her grasp. Her knees softened.
Then Andrew was there. His arm came around her waist before she could fall, his other hand catching her elbow. Frances drew in a startled breath and found herself pressed near enough to feel the heat of him through his coat.
“Frances, are you all right?”
Her name sounded unlike a reprimand now.
She looked up. He was close enough for her to see the faint shadow beneath his eyes, the rigid line of his jaw, the pulse beating once at his throat. His hand stayed at her waist, and her own had somehow come to rest against his chest.
Neither of them moved.
“I… only stood too quickly,” she whispered, catching herself out of breath.
“You have not eaten properly for days.”
His eyes dipped briefly to her mouth. Frances felt the glance as if it were touch. Her breath faltered, and his fingers tightened once at her waist not enough to hurt, only enough to tell her he had felt the moment too.
Then, he stepped back. The loss of him was immediate.
“Please, sit down,” he urged again. “Eat something. Then rest for the night. Tomorrow you may continue with your duties.”
Frances lowered herself into the chair, partly because she chose to and partly because her legs had not yet entirely recovered.
“Do those duties include the child?” she asked.
Andrew paused.
His expression closed, then softened by the smallest degree. “If you wish them to.”
Relief moved through her before she could hide it.
“But not as you did today,” he added. “You may help Nurse Ellis.Help, Frances. You will not make yourself the child’s sole caretaker. You will not miss meals, lose sleep, and wear yourself to pieces because you believe affection requires sacrifice.”
She looked down at the broth steaming before her.
“I do not believe that.”
His silence suggested he did not believe her.
After a moment, Frances took up her spoon. “Very well. I willhelpNurse Ellis.”
“And eat regular meals,” he reminded her.
She resisted the urge to smile. “I will attempt to remember I possess a body as well as a conscience.”
“That will be sufficient for the moment.”
