Page 100 of Again, Scoundrel

“Violet Goodwin,” he growled to her, “you promised you’d take care of yourself. And you did not. You are not a liar, my love, so you must get better now.”

She looked skeletal and wracked by fever. On the verge of death herself.

Bloodyfuckinghell’steeth!

He would not have this.

“Where is the footman?” he roared from inside the bedroom.

He couldn’t even think of a world where he lost Violet before he’d made her understand what she meant to him. And what he meant to her. Because he knew and she didn’t. And it could not end like that.

Not until she knows.

He took a step away from the window, closer to the bed. His fingers wanted so desperately to sweep her hair from her forehead, to apply a cold cloth to her flushed skin. But he wouldn’t touch her. She’d given instructions; he’d do as she said.

“Violet,” he called to her instead, and she opened her eyes weakly when he did, but they were unfocused and confused and she quickly closed them again.

He took another step closer to her. “Violet,” he said again, this time in a soft whisper, hoping that his voice might bring her back. “Wake up, Violet.”

“Not another step.” The Marquess’s sharp voice arrived from the hallway. He’d cracked open the door to Violet’s bedchamber to speak with his Alistair. “You would be wise to leave this room at once.”

“No,” Alistair said, not even turning his head to his father.

Every inch of him was focused on Violet. He likely wouldn’t have noticed if the Queen herself waltzed into the bedchamber.

“We’ll call for the surgeon.” This from his mother now, who crowded behind his father in the hallway. “He will tend to her. Alistair, it cannot be you. You’ll put yourself in danger.”

“No,” he said again.

It won’t be anyone but me.

And the sooner they realized it, the better off they’d all be.

“Did you find Jasper? Is the midwife arriving?”

“Alistair,” his father said in a gentler voice than he’d ever heard the old man use before. “What is this woman to you? Is there some kind of obligation between you? One that might require a midwife?”

“No. Just bring the damn woman. If Violet wants the midwife, she’ll get the midwife.”

His voice was sharp, urgent. Whatever trappings of childhood he’d adopted when he first entered Rosehips had completely disappeared.

He was the naval captain now, used to command. And one accustomed to making decisions that could mean the difference between life and death. The last time he’d been faced with this decision, he hadn’t trusted Violet. He’d called for the surgeon instead. This time he would not be so foolish.

“We’ve found Jasper, my lord,” Jenkins called out. She too was now crowded in the hallway outside Violet’s room. “And his sister. They’ll be here momentarily.”

“Not fast enough,” he muttered and stalked to the door, closing it. “Go back to Darius and leave me be.”

He turned back to Violet. “You,” he said to her, “will wake up.”

Chapter

40

Violet was vaguely aware there was someone in the room with her. A large, dark presence that hovered beside her.

I ought to be afraid, she thought, but she wasn’t.

Not when whomever it was sat beside her and talked. His voice was low and growly and comforting. It grounded her in this room and in this life. And when it told her she would get better, she believed it.