Page 38 of The Viscount of Shadows

“You can take the bucket away. I’m done,” Oliver whispered.

“Is it safe?”

“I do not know. Best we remain quiet.”

Claudia helped Oliver lie on the pallet, then took the bucket to the corner and emptied her bladder. After covering it with the piece of wood, she made her way to Oliver. She laid her hand against his forehead. It felt warm. Not raging hot, but a slight fever, nonetheless. She smoothed his hair. There were beads of sweat at his hairline. Claudia could feel him trembling.

“I think you have a bit of a fever. Let me find the water.” She rummaged around on her hands and knees, feeling about for the bottle. At last, she located it. Growing worried, she helped Oliver sit up partway and brushed the bottle by his face. After removing the cover, he grabbed it with a shaky hand and drank. Once he laid flat, Claudia covered him with the blanket. Then she took a sip of the water.

“Talk to me,” Oliver rasped. “Keep my mind off this pain. And the fever. Tell me about yourself.”

“Why do you want to know anything about me?” Claudia whispered.

“Because I want to know you better.”

“That is hardly an adequate answer.”

“You fascinate me.”

Claudia screwed the lid on the jar. Oliver also fascinated her, especially after discovering he was The Sentinel. What did it matter, here in the dark? If talking would ease his discomfort, she would do as he asked. “My mother was a courtesan, and my father is the disgraced and imprisoned Duke of Whinstone. Although I hear he will not be a duke much longer. I spent the early years of my life in comfort, living in a small flat on Eaton Place near Belgrave Square.”

This was going to be a long night.