Page 7 of A Countess of Convenience

The misery she’d managed to lock away since Dora had told her the shocking news sprang forth full force, twisting her heart as if in a vise. Her husband, whom she had loved, had dishonored her and was dead. She could scarcely take it in even now. Continuing to weep, she dabbed her sleeve against her eyes. The prospect of having a life without Simon made her feel as though she stood at the edge of a great precipice, with nothing before her save a sickening drop. She wanted nothing more than to return to that evening in November, before their lives were swept away by that single blow.

Another, stronger sob wracked her. Had her husband been a better man none of this would have happened. Yet it had. And there was no going back to November. So tonight she would cry for Simon and all the tomorrows they would never share. And when the morning came, she would have to start picking up the shards left to her and begin the return to life once more.

Chapter 2

A restless night led Judith to sleep later than was her custom. And because of her illness, no one had dreamed of awakening her at a proper time. Therefore, ten o’clock saw her still abed, finishing the last of the egg posset Lord Farringdon had allotted her for this morning. She’d been hungry enough to ask for a boiled egg, but the doctor must have put the fear of God into Cook, so she sipped the last of the posset and hoped for a more substantial luncheon.

As she drained the posset pot, she concentrated on curling and uncurling her left fingers. There seemed to be a little more movement in them today and her arm had twitched when she brought it out from under the covers. Progress to show Lord Farringdon. He should be pleased with her. Why that seemed to matter so much she didn’t know. Except she’d always enjoyed a challenge. Making her arm and hand work the way they’d done before was a more difficult task than most she’d attempted. A bit of praise from the doctor would therefore not come amiss.

The door opened, and Dora entered, followed by Lord Farringdon.

Struggling to sit up higher, Judith knocked against the breakfast tray then made a hasty grab for it.

“Let me get that, dear.” Dora rushed to the bed and plucked the tray up. “I’ll just take it down.” The girl retreated from the room, leaving Judith under the intense scrutiny of the doctor.

“Good morning, Mrs. Harper. I see from your tray you have taken my advice about your nourishment.” Lord Farringdon came forward and lifted her good hand, turning it over and feeling the wrist.

“It is Judith, if you remember, my lord.” She smiled up at him. Having given him leave, he might as well use it. “I am hoping you will allow me a bit more for lunch, my lord. The posset may have been nourishing but was hardly filling. I asked for a boiled egg this morning, and you would have thought I had asked Mrs. Pennyfoil to prepare a feast.” Judith stared up into his dark blue eyes. “I assume you have her in thrall and I will have no real food until she has received permission from you.”

Lord Farringdon chuckled and released her hand. “I always find it easy to enlist the family cook in helping with a patient’s care. I need only impress upon them how important it is for the patient to eat an invalid diet, lest they upset their digestion and relapse. I have found the dearer the patient is esteemed, the stricter the cook becomes.” His smile broadened, crinkling the edges of his eyes. “I believe your cook is terribly fond of you, Mrs. Harper, so I am secure in the knowledge of her cooperation.”

Judith’s shoulders slumped. “But I am truly hungry, my lord. Can I not have an egg or some toasted bread and cheese?”

“I think we will advance you to a good beef or, better yet, mutton broth for your luncheon.”

Grimacing, Judith shuddered, closing both hands into fists. “I cannot get better with nothing to eat but broth and tea.”

Lord Farringdon leaned closer, peering at her hands, his gaze avid. “Can you do that again?”

Slowly, Judith opened her fingers then curled them again. Not all the way, but much better than last night.

“Excellent.” He straightened. “You are doing much better.”

“Just imagine how much quicker I could recover if I wasn’t being starved.” She sniffed and looked away. If the doctor wouldn’t cooperate, she’d enlist Dora to get her some real food.

He stared down at her then nodded. “I suppose a boiled egg wouldn’t hurt. With water toast only. You are not quite strong enough for anything else.”

Beaming at him, Judith curled and uncurled her hand. At last, something to sink her teeth into. “Thank you, my lord.”

“And because you seem much stronger, I don’t see why you cannot move to the chair there this afternoon.” He gestured to the tapestry-covered wingback drawn up before the fireplace. “Only with help, mind you. Do not attempt to walk by yourself. We do not know if your legs will bear your weight after such a long time.”

That sobered Judith immediately. She’d not considered that her legs might have been affected as her arm and hand had. Surreptitiously, she wiggled her toes. Everything seemed to be working there. Carefully, she slipped first the left leg then the right toward the sides of the bed. No problems occurred. Sighing in relief, she returned her attention to the doctor, only to find him scrutinizing her.

“Movement is apparently not a problem. However,” he fixed her with a stern look, “we do not know how your legs will react when you put weight on them. You could take another tumble and that, I’m afraid, would be the end of you. Especially as your wound is still open. So you must promise me not to attempt it unless your mother, or Miss Harper, or even the maid is with you.” He stared at her until she wanted to pull the cover up over her head. “I would not insist this way, but from what I’ve seen and heard, you are stubborn to a fault. If you wish me to refrain from ‘bullying’ your mother and sister-in-law, I suggest you give me your solemn oath that you will rise only with their assistance.”

Dropping her gaze, Judith nodded, smiling to herself. The doctor had judged her correctly. “Yes, my lord, I give you my word I will not try to remove to the fire,” she raised a hand to stay him, “or anywhere else, unless someone is with me.” She slid her gaze up to challenge him. “Does that satisfy you, my lord?”

“It will do for now, Mrs. Harper.”

“Judith, my lord.” She caught his eye.

He raised his brows. “I suppose if you insist upon it, Judith, you should by rights call me Miles.”

Judith chuckled and nodded. “Thank you…Miles.” She liked the name very much. “Will you return this afternoon to see me walk? To assure yourself I am not disobeying you?”

“I will call this afternoon to check on your progress and see if you are indeed a woman of your word.” Crossing his arms, Lord Farringdon looked like nothing so much as a stern night watchman or even worse, an unyielding Bow Street Runner.

“You will, my lord.” She’d not go back on her word now, no matter what. “I promise.”