I shook my head carefully so it wouldn’t hurt worse. “You don’t have to. It was ... it is a terrible idea, no matter how nice it sounds.” I was weary and haggard. I hadn’t even had time to properly clean myself after spending time in the orchard. If I were in my right mind, I wouldn’t want him anywhere near me while I looked and felt like this. “You might catch the fever.”
I braved the currents of cold air around my legs and turned back toward the window again. I wouldn’t be able to rest with him looking at me. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms tighter around my middle.
There was a soft clunk behind me, as something fell to the floor. A moment later, a second sound followed, and the bed dipped behind me. I barely had time to register that the sound I’d heard had been David’s boots before one of his arms went around my middle, and he pulled me into him. He was on top of the blankets, but his warmth radiated through me. My back settled into his chest, and his legs tucked in behind mine. Almost immediately, my shivering stopped, and my whole body seemed to exhale in the relief of someone cradling me.
His chin rested on top of my head, and when he spoke, it tousled my hair. “I told you.” His voice was only just above a whisper. “I never take ill.”
I nestled deeper into him. I was sick and chilled, and it was perfectly legitimate of me to want someone—anyone—to hold me. The fact that it was David made no difference. Or rather, it certainly did, but I hoped he didn’t think much of it. “But what if you do?”
His arm lifted from my waist, the comforting weight of it gone. I thought perhaps he’d changed his mind, he didn’t want to risk being sick, or he felt as though someone else should be caring for me. Instead, his fingers came to the crown of my head, and he gingerly lifted it, sliding his other arm under my cheek like a pillow. When his arm returned to my waist, it felt so much like coming home after a long trip away I almost forgot I was sick.
“If I do,” he said, his voice firm, “then I expect you to come into my room and return this favor.”
My shoulders shook, but it wasn’t a chill. It was a sad attempt at laughter. “That seems like a very bad bargain.”
“Perhaps for you,” he whispered.
I shook my head. David was ridiculous. He was also very kind. He was, in fact, everything I could have ever wanted in a husband or a friend. I was fortunate to call him both, even if one of those titles would only ever be temporary. With the shaking gone and David and the blankets keeping me warm, the muscles in my body finally calmed.
“Stay with me?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied. I couldn’t help but wish he’d said something more permanent. Something to let me know it would always be this way. But that was a promise he wouldn’t make, and although I knew a lot of that blame was to be set at his father’s feet, I wished I were tempting enough to make him change his mind.
For now, though, I let myself pretend this wasn’t the only time David would be in my bed and that whenever I fell sick in the future, he would be the one to comfort me. I let my mind wander to whatspending the rest of my life with him might look like. It looked a lot like this moment, stretched into infinite possibilities.
My breathing eased and deepened, and in the comfort of the arms of a man who cared fiercely for me, I sank into a quiet oblivion.
When I awoke later to complete darkness, stifling heat, and night sweats, David was there, his forearm under my neck and his chest pressed up against my back. My hair was damp and cold—David had bathed it sometime during the night—but instead of giving me the chills like it would have hours ago, in the cool night air, it was a relief against the climbing heat spreading throughout my body.
I lifted my head and instantly regretted it. I didn’t wake David, but my headache returned fiercely. I rested it back down on David’s arm and lifted the blankets away from my chest instead. Cool relief rushed over my skin, but David started at my movement.
The hand at my waist lifted, and I could tell from the way the bed dipped that he’d sat up. I turned on my back and kicked off more of the blankets.
His hand went to my cheek, his fingers probing my temple and brushing aside some of my damp hair. “Your fever’s broken,” he said.
All I could do was nod. It was too dark for him to see my movements, but with his hands on my face, I knew he could feel it. I swallowed hard as memories of his gentle care came flooding back.
Headache or no, waking up wrapped in the arms of one’s husband was an experience I’d not be likely to forget.
He stood. “I’ll find you some water.”
I put a hand on my neck, taking long, steady breaths, thankful David couldn’t see me with my hair completely in tangles, spread out on the pillows, my skin covered in a cold sweat.
I could sense him moving about in the room. He was close enough for me to hear his breathing and sense where he stood. Clinking sounds came from my night table, and I glanced up towhere he must be, catching only the slightest silhouette of his form against the softest seam of light coming from underneath the door.
Light flared impossibly bright, and my hands flew to my eyes as I squeezed them shut against the flash. He must have lit a match. I stretched out on the bed, waiting for my eyes to accustom themselves to the idea of opening.
“How are y—” David started, his voice soft, but then he paused. I cracked an eye open to find a blurred David half sitting against my dressing table in his shirtsleeves, as if he’d fallen back on it after lighting the lamp. When he caught my gaze on him, he turned his head, looking instead out of the window.
His shirt was untucked from his breeches, and he wore no cravat. Several of his buttons must have come undone, for under the flickering light of the oil lamp, I could see almost half of his torso. It was covered in strange circular marks.
I blinked, unable to take my eyes off the sight of him. He was still staring at the window. I knew I should pull the linens back over my chemise, but I was incapable of tearing my gaze from the indented white marks on his skin. I’d seen a mark like that before, once. High on Julia’s arm.
“David ...” My voice traveled to him like a puff of smoke, weak and floating, but he turned nonetheless. I couldn’t lift my eyes to his and didn’t see his expression, but I heard his curse.
He set the lamp down roughly, pulled the edges of his shirt together, and took two long strides toward me, roughly throwing the lightest of the linens back over my body.
I grabbed his hand as it lifted away. I was so weak it would have taken no effort on his part to pull away from me, but he didn’t. Instead, he met my eyes.
