I closed my eyes again, this time with a groan. My head was hurting too much to solve this riddle. But unconsciousness didn’t overtake me, and so I opened my eyes once again, this time examining the fabric resting atop my chest. It wasn’t a blanket, but had the ties and shape of a dressing gown. I swallowed hard, even though it made my throat scream for water. This was her dressing gown. And the deep green velvet was quality. It wasn’t the dressing gown of a milkmaid or a farmer’s daughter.
“Are you awake?” the young woman asked, as if she wasn’t certain. “Truly awake?”
I took a slow, steady breath. She watched the motion with those stormy eyes of hers. I’d never had a woman look at me with such bold and undisguised interest. I nodded.
“Do you know where you are?”
“No,” I managed.
“We are in an abandoned shepherd’s croft. Perhaps five miles east of Alexandria.”
“Scout?” Had I really left him outside without caring for him at all?
“Your horse?”
I nodded, and the movement felt so wrong, so casual when I was not only wearing her clothing but lying down while speaking to her. A storm of emotions ran through me. I should be standing, I should be properly clothed—how had I become improperly clothed in the first place? The longer I stayed awake, the worse my situation seemed. I was alive, and no longer fevered, but at what cost? And specifically, at what cost to the young lady sitting across the room from me?
“I checked on him before dawn, after the worst of your fever subsided. He wasn’t tethered, but you’d somehow managed to remove his saddle before stumbling into the croft. He is safe and well.”
“I must owe you a debt of gratitude.” Her dressing gown was dusty and even caked in mud in a few places. I’d had enough bouts with the Walcheren strain of the ague to know I had terrible fits when going through the hot stage. “And perhaps a dressing gown.”
She wrinkled her nose, and it was such a decidedly unangelic gesture, I wanted to shake my head to clear it. Who was she?
“I think it would be wise for us to not consider debts. It is bad enough that the two of us spent the night alone together. I don’t think buying me a dressing gown would improve our situation. Especially not with your wife.”
My wife? I blinked hard. How long had I blacked out? I didn’t have a wife. I hoped to have one soon, but I highly doubted I’d managed to marry Harriet while in the throes of fever.
“True,” I answered carefully.
She looked so small, huddled into the corner like that. She was probably freezing without her dressing gown and yet I couldn’t give it to her—I didn’t even have a shirt on. Of course, she was probably the one who had removed it in the first place. I grimaced. Or had I managed that on my own as I had Scout’s saddle? I dared not ask.
“But perhaps I can ease your mind on one small point. I don’t have a wife, so you need not worry about that.”
She straightened against the wall and her gaze snapped to mine. “You don’t have a wife?”
I shook my head. It was a mistake. It still hurt like the devil.
“Not yet.”
“But you ... ” She trailed off. What had I done to make her think I was married? My face grew hot. I must have said something in my delirium. It wouldn’t be the first time. Lieutenant Brookhouse had witnessed that embarrassment more than once when I’d first come down with the fever.
My mouth burned with thirst, and my thoughts were so muddled it was as though I was still living in that blasted storm. But I didn’t feel capable of asking her for any more help, not even for my clothes.
“My father will be here soon. He, my mother and brother spent the night in our carriage when the road became unpassable.”
Definitely not a farmer’s daughter then. And her father would be here at any moment. I needed my clothes and I needed to leave as soon as possible. Otherwise the two of us would be caught in a very compromising situation—one that, from the looks of the way she huddled so far from me, she would not want to be caught in. I was going to need to ask for my clothes after all. “I am weak, but as soon as I have my clothing, I can ride out. The rain has stopped.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean to leave? Now?”
Did she want me to stay? When she was expecting her father? It would mean a marriage. It should mean a marriage. Was she so desperate she would tie herself to a man she barely knew? She couldn’t be. Her nightgown was dirtied and her hair tousled and unkempt, but she was a beauty, regardless. With a carriage and such fine clothing, marriage to a stranger she knew nothing about wouldn’t be appealing. Not to mention she thought I was married only a moment ago.
But after caring for me all night, it would be her due if she asked for it. “Nothing good could come from me staying. If your father finds us together, I will have no choice but to offer for your hand.”
She shook her head violently. “That would never happen.” Horror put a grimace on her face. It was, of course, a good reaction, all things considered. I was practically engaged to another and Harriet had been the most patient of saints while I worked my way up into a position where I could afford to restore Applewood and bring home a wife. But still, a reaction like that wasn’t good for a man’s confidence.
“Then I should leave.”
She shook her head again. “You don’t know my father. He is reasonable and you did nothing untoward ... ”
