Page 4 of A Daring Desire

“I brought some peppermint tea,” she said.

“A wonderful idea, if you can get him to swallow it,” Berrycloth said with a sigh.

“I shall do my best,” Cat promised. “But I think you ought to get some rest now, Mr Berrycloth or I shall have two invalids on my hands. If you ask Frank, who is waiting outside, he will see you comfortably settled.”

“Oh, but….” Berrycloth glanced over at the bed behind him.

“I shall sit with him, and I won’t leave until you return. A few hours of sleep will do you a world of good.”

Berrycloth sighed and nodded. “I confess I am ready to drop, but you are too good, my lady. Truly, I would not have blamed you if you had slammed the door in our faces.”

“Not in your face,” Cat said with a wry smile, at which he laughed softly.

Cat shrugged and turned to look at the unhappy figure in the bed. Berrycloth had extinguished most of the candles so her husband was only a dark shape among the shadows, but she could hear the rasp of his breathing and her heart ached for him.

“I think you know very well I could never turn him away, Mr Berrycloth,” she said quietly.

“I prayed that was still the case,” he admitted, before bidding her goodnight and leaving her alone.

Cat stood in the centre of the dimly lit room, the fresh scent of the peppermint tea drifting around her. Hardly daring to make a sound, she tiptoed to the bed and set down the cup, and stared at this man who was as much a stranger to her now as the day they had married. Not knowing how she dared, she reached out a hand and pushed back a tumbled lock of thick black hair. He stirred with restless irritation, his eyes flicking open and a frown tugging at his dark brows as he focused hazily upon the room. Tension gripped him and he stiffened with a sharp intake of breath that made him cough and then cry out with pain. His back arched as he clutched at his chest and stared wildly around.

“My lord,” Cat said, reaching for his hand and grasping it. “You’re quite safe. You’re at Connaught Place.”

He stared at her, his gaze febrile and uncomprehending.

“You’ve come home,” she said softly.

“Home?” he repeated, as though the word was unfamiliar to him, and then his grasp tightened upon hers, staring at her. “You,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice suddenly thick. “Yes, I am here to plague you, my lord Kilbane. You were foolish to let yourself get so very sick, you know, for now I shall take care of you. You must get well again if you want to escape me.”

He let out a soft breath of laughter, pain immediately visible in his taut features.

“Here, I have made you some peppermint tea. It might ease the congestion on your chest a little.”

Kilbane shook his head and turned his face away.

“Yes, you will take some. I am afraid you will find me a tyrant if you don’t do as I bid you,” she warned him. Moving to sit beside him, Cat slid an arm behind his head to raise him and lifted the cup to his lips.

“Damn you,” he muttered.

“You can commend me to the devil when you are better,” she told him sternly. “For now, do as I tell you.”

Too weak to fight her, he submitted to her will and managed a few sips of the tea.

“Well done,” she praised him, gaining a far more familiar, incinerating look from under heavy eyelids before she laid his head carefully back against the pillows.

Cat straightened the bedclothes and damped a clean cloth with lavender water, returning to bathe his face gently. He sighed under the touch of the cooling flannel and Cat blinked back tears at the sight of him. How it hurt her heart to see her magnificently wicked husband reduced to such straits. For all the hurt he had caused her, none of it had been his own doing, but hers, and she had never blamed him for her fate. Once upon a time she had believed she might make him happy, but he had never been of a mind to give her the chance to do that. Perhaps, though, she might make him well again, and possibly he might allow her to be at least his friend, as she had always hoped.

“Rest now,” she whispered, and watched over him as he drifted into sleep.

Chapter 2

Dearest Rose,

I was sorry to hear how poorly your brother and sisters are. You were lucky to escape to London to stay with Lady Catherine. I admire her so much and aspire to be as elegant as she always is.

Shall I see you this Christmas? I do hope so. I saw Lord Thomas Barrington yesterday. He’s such an entertaining companion, he had me in whoops, which you don’t expect in the least, as he looks so much like his father now.