Sterling helped her to her feet. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head then rubbed her arms. “Come on,” he said. “You look like you need a bracing pot of tea.”
Edwina gave him a faint smile. “More tea, Sterling?”
“You’ve utterly corrupted me, Miss Sheffield. I shall never hear the end of it.”
Chapter
Eleven
Edwina spent the next day in bed, luxuriating in being waited upon by Sterling.
It was strange to see him so out of sorts. The second she twitched, he was on his feet, asking if she needed anything. If her stomach growled, then he was barking orders at the servants, demanding tea and scones, and her favorite strawberry jam….
She’d spent such a long time alone that she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone watching over her.
“I’m fine, Sterling,” she promised as she sipped at the soup he’d brought her for lunch. He’d barely allowed her out of bed to bathe and get dressed. “I’m feeling quite recovered.”
“Your skin was like ice, Edwina. And you were barely bloody breathing.” He bit down on his words, his lips pressed thinly together, but she knew he was still furious that she’d put the ring on. “You nearly collapsed coming up the stairs last night. I knew I should have insisted we come straight home.”
The last thing she recalled was Sterling swinging her into his arms and carrying her up to bed.
“What is it you always say?” she mused. “That I ought to trust my gut instinct more often? Well, I trusted it, Sterling. And I managed to convince Clare to move on—she was just as much a victim of this entire situation as anyone else.”
“Ice,” he said, in a tone she didn’t think she’d ever heard before.
Edwina rolled her eyes. “I knew you were there, Sterling. I could hear you calling my name and guarding my mortal body. Nothing was going to happen to me with you by my side.”
The words didn’t seem to assuage his concern.
He crossed to the window, flipped open the curtains, and then paced away from them.
Edwina stared down into her half-eaten soup.
So much had happened in the past two days that she felt like she’d barely had a chance to catch her breath.
But for the first time this entire trip, he was the one keeping silent.
He hadn’t mentioned that moment in the church when she’d slammed back into her mortal body and found herself lying in his arms.
There’d been no mention of the ring.
His proposal.
Or of getting her into bed.
Only frustrated glances at his watch, and mutterings about getting back to London so they could report to the Prime.
Edwina made a decision. Setting the soup aside, she hauled herself up against the pillows. “Sterling, are we going to talk about it?”
A startled glance was cast over his shoulder. And then his blue eyes clouded over. Sterling turned around, crossing both arms over his chest. “Talk about what?”
“Are you going to say it again?” she whispered.
I love you. I’m madly in love with you, Edwina Sheffield, and I’ve never dared bloody say it….
He looked at her somewhat bleakly.
And she finally knew that it was time to be brave.
