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Pressing her lips together, Aurora gave a tight, though rebellious nod.

“Good.” With that, Slayde dismissed the issue, striding across the bedchamber and yanking open the door. “I’ll summon you when Miss Johnston awakens. After I’ve had an opportunity to prepare her for you.”

It was midafternoon when Courtney stirred. She felt less disoriented this time, recalling her whereabouts almost immediately—as well as the incidents that had preceded them. The ache in her head had subsided somewhat, as had that in her ribs—whether from the lingering effects of the laudanum or the onset of the natural healing process, she wasn’t certain.

She wished the wounds of her heart would be as easy to heal.

“How are you feeling, Miss Johnston?”

It was the housekeeper, Miss Payne, who entered, carrying a tray of tea and toast.

“Better,” Courtney replied, her voice an unfamiliar wisp of sound.

“The slash above your eye is healing nicely. Matilda changed the bandage while you slept. She also said you’re weak as a newborn babe. And she’s right,” Miss Payne assessed, laying out the refreshment with a purposeful air. “But it’s no wonder. You’ve eaten nothing for days and drunk only as much as your laudanum required. Well, we’re about to change that.” So saying, she poured a cup of tea, then placed it on the tray next to Courtney’s bedside. “Shall I help you sit up?”

“Thank you very much.” Gratefully, Courtney accepted the assistance, wincing at the sharp pain in her ribs that accompanied her movements.

After what seemed like an eternity, she was sitting half upright, two pillows propped behind her back.

“Is that comfortable?” Miss Payne inquired.

“Yes, very.”

“Good. Now it’s time to regain your strength.”

It was more an order than a statement, and Courtney almost found herself smiling. Clearly, Miss Payne was not as soft-hearted as Matilda and had therefore been chosen to administer her meal. Well, Courtney would try not to disappoint her.

“It looks delicious.” She took the proffered teacup and drank, stunned to find she was nearly parched with thirst. Twice, Miss Payne refilled the cup, and twice more, Courtney drank. Next, she attempted the toast, nibbling at the edges before taking her first normal bite.

Her insides gnawed their approval.

“Slowly,” the housekeeper cautioned. “Your stomach has been empty for days. Give your body time to accept the food.” Patiently, she waited while Courtney alternately ate and rested until, a quarter hour later, both slices of toast were gone. “Excellent.” Miss Payne rose. “Your color has already improved.”

“Indeed it has.”

Lord Pembourne hovered in the doorway, watching as his houseguest licked the final crumbs from her lips. “May I come in?” he inquired politely.

“Of course.” For some bizarre reason, Courtney felt a surge of nervousness, doubtless a reaction to receiving a man in her bedchamber. Despite the earl’s earlier visits, this was the first time she’d been alert enough to truly consider her surroundings. And, for all her years at sea, no one but her father had ever crossed her cabin’s threshold, at least not while she was within.

The earl seemed to sense her discomfort, for he approached stiffly, halting a respectful distance from the foot of her bed.

Simultaneously, Miss Payne gathered up the tray. “Miss Johnston ate her entire meal.”

“So I see.” Lord Pembourne’s silver-gray eyes appraised the empty plates. “And without a drop of fortifying brandy. I’m relieved.”

Recalling snatches of her earlier rambling, Courtney flushed.

“As for this evening’s meal, I’ll advise Cook to prepare some broth,” Miss Payne was muttering to herself, “and perhaps a few biscuits. Yes, that should go down well.” She gave the earl a quizzical look. “Will you be remaining at Pembourne for any length of time, my lord? If so, I’ll need to order additional supplies and alert the staff to your extended stay.”

A heartbeat of a pause. “I’m not certain. I’ll advise you once my plans are made. For now, assume I’ll be here.”

“Very good, my lord.” She swept off.

Courtney rubbed the sheet between her fingers, studying the earl’s chiseled features and trying to shake off her uncustomary self-consciousness. “Are you ofttimes away from home?”

“Yes, frequently.”

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