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“And what is she to you?” Martin’s question was tinged with disapproval at Darcy’s untoward behavior.
“She is my wife.” The words sprang from his lips without conscious thought. “My Elizabeth.”
“Your wife?” The suspicion in the doctor’s voice was no surprise. The coincidence was nearly too great to be believed. “Can you identify her in some way?”
Damnation! Darcy did not know her body as a husband would, but he had viewed her in a ball gown that revealed more than the nightrail. The image was branded on his mind. “She has a birthmark…here.” He touched a place on his left shoulder.
The expression on the doctor’s face suggested that he had noticed the birthmark, but he remained suspicious. Darcy wracked his brain for other things that might identify her. “She usually wears a little amber cross on a chain. Did she have it upon her?”
The suspicious lines on Martin’s face smoothed. “Marguerite removed it for safekeeping.” He opened the drawer in the table beside the bed and removed the necklace. A piece of jewelry had never before had such a profound effect on Darcy’s heart.
“Why, this is marvelous!” the doctor exclaimed. “You believed her to be dead?”
“For…these past weeks. The ship exploded; everyone perished.” Darcy brushed loose strands of hair from her face, desperate to touch her and prove that she was warm and breathing—wondrously alive.
Yet…her face was as pale as the sheet, and none of the activity in the room had disturbed her. “Why does she not awaken?”
The doctor’s face turned grave. “She has contracted a lung fever, no doubt from the sea water she swallowed.”
Darcy’s heart beat a ragged, frantic rhythm. “Will—” His voice faltered. “Will she survive?”
The doctor’s sharp eyes regarded her clinically. “Her fever has abated in the past few days, and she has awakened more frequently. She has a strong constitution. I am…hopeful.”
Martin had not really answered the question. “I will do anything, pay anything,” Darcy entreated the doctor.
The other man waved this offer away. “I would care for this woman for nothing. We have grown quite fond of her over the past weeks. I am pleased to have a name for her.” He smiled down at the unconscious woman. “Elizabeth.”
The doctor grasped her wrist to take her pulse, provoking irrational jealousy in Darcy. He has saved her life, Darcy reminded himself. Martin nodded and carefully placed Elizabeth’s arm under the covers. “Her pulse is stronger.”
Darcy was pleased at this news, but at the same time, he worried that perhaps he should be doing more. Surely he could provide some help.
In the next minute, a fit of coughing convulsed her body; her chest heaved as she wheezed and gasped for breath. Darcy clung to her hand, utterly incapable of rendering any assistance. Once the coughing eased, the doctor smoothed the covers over Elizabeth’s shoulders once more, saying, “The coughing has improved.” If that is better, thank God I did not witness the worst, Darcy mused.
The gaunt appearance of her face was rather alarming. “She is so thin. Cannot you persuade her to eat?”
“We coax her to drink water whenever she awakens.” The man gestured to a glass and pitcher by the bed. “And occasionally she eats some soup.”
Darcy could not draw his eyes from her face. “I cannot lose her. I cannot lose her…again.”
“I will do my best.” The doctor’s voice was gentle. “I hope you will remain here as our guest. The room adjacent to this one is unoccupied.”
The thought of putting a wall between him and Elizabeth provoked a cold shiver. “I will stay here.” The words burst from him with no forethought. Oh, Good Lord, what am I saying?
“That is not necessary. We will take good care of your wife.”
Darcy had forgotten for a moment that he was “married” to Elizabeth; that gave him the right to stay in her room. “It is necessary.”
Martin chuckled. “You have not been married long, have you?”
“No.” That was a true statement. “Why?”
“You act like a newly married man,” the doctor said with a smile.
Darcy saw no humor in the situation. “How would you behave if you believed your wife to be dead?” he asked with a growl.
Martin sobered. “Of course. It would be pain beyond imagining.”
Darcy returned his attention to Elizabeth’s still form, aware that the doctor’s eyes were upon him. After a long moment the other man spoke. “You are not a laborer searching for work.” It was a statement, not a question.
