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“Aggy started to feel sick. Then Edwards has fallen ill. Now Maisie is feeling poorly, and several of the footmen have fallen ill as well. Poor Rollo is racing around like a headless chicken.”
“Is everyone alright? What’s wrong with them?”
Aidan watched her flit around the bed, bending and twisting with lithe grace as she smoothed the sheets and shook out the blankets. The effortless way she moved captivated him and had a devastating impact on his body. Carefully turning away before she witnessed the full force of the effect she had on him, he found his thoughts return to the prospect of having children in the house.
As the minutes ticked by, his attention was drawn back to the way she bent over the bed to smooth out the covers.
Unaware of the direction of his thoughts, Petal talked as she worked.
“Edwards is accusing Mrs Kempton of not cooking the meat for last night’s dinner properly. That has outraged Mrs Kempton, who denies it is her cooking. Edwards has slouched off to her room to sulk, but Rollo is run off his feet because most of the staff are sick, and Mrs Kempton is now too upset to work. She thinks everyone is accusing her of trying to poison them.”
Aidan’s brows lifted. He was now glad that he was safely tucked upstairs out of the way, even if it was a little boring being in the same four walls all day.
“Where is everyone now?”
She threw him a wry look. “Well, mostly in their rooms being ill. Those of us who are well enough to work are busy looking after those who aren’t.”
“How are you?” His voice dipped to a husky rumble before he even realised it. The atmosphere between them shifted imperceptibly into something that was warm and intimate.
She stopped plumping the pillow she was holding and studied him.
“I am fine,” she replied, trying her hardest to ignore it. “You must be ever so glad to be up and about now,” she added with a nod to his position beside the window.
“I am. I have to admit that I don’t feel half as vulnerable as I did lying in that bed.”
He tried to keep his gaze away from the delightful curve of her derriere as she bent over the bed to tuck the sheets in and shifted his stance when his body predictably responded again. He still had lingering doubts that it was right to even consider Petal might be a suitable wife. But he couldn’t ignore the wild surge of attraction he felt toward her whenever they were alone together; like now. Or how much he had missed her.
Life just seemed dull whenever she wasn’t around.
“Would you like me to fetch you some tea?” she asked.
With the bed made, the fire stoked, and the room tidy, she had run out of things to do.
“No, thank you. I should like you to read to me for a while. Another chapter should just about do it.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why he wasn’t reading to himself but knew it was overstepping the boundaries of her position in the house.
She collected the book and waited.
He watched her hesitate and knew she was waiting to be told where to sit. He hated to see such a subservient side to her.
He assessed the distance between where he stood and the chair in front of the fireplace. The bed was closer, but he really didn’t want to go back to that. With a sigh, he took a deep breath and took a step toward the fire.
He managed it reasonably well. It was only when he was a few feet away from the chaise that his feet became tangled in the end of an upturned rug. The room suddenly swayed alarmingly. He reached out to the chaise but was too far away to grab hold of it.
“Damn it,” he growled when his legs protested when they were being asked to hold him upright while bent at such an awkward angle.
Petal knew he was going to fall and dropped the book as she lurched across the room toward him. She reached him just in time to save him from a rather painful fall but, to her dismay found herself plastered against him with her nose buried in his chest.
“Petal,” he growled huskily.
The feel of her flush against him brought forth a heartfelt groan that pushed the very limits of his self-control. He had never felt this kind of instantaneous response to any woman before upon the first contact.
“Where do you want to go?” She gasped, desperate to keep her attention off just how right it felt to have his arms around her.
“I just can’t do this anymore,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“What was that?” he asked, peering down at her.
