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“I was waiting for you,” Millicent pouted.
Isabel caressed the top of her head, her heart swelling. “Well, now that I am here, you can sleep again.”
“Will you sing me a song?”
Isabel threw a glance at her husband, who still stood at the doorway. “Of course, my dear.”
Millie disengaged from Isabel and climbed back into bed. Isabel tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and started a lullaby.
By the time Isabel finished her song, both Millie and Button were fast asleep.
She stood and walked toward her husband. She ran her hands over her arms, shivering once more. She’d only managed to throw a dressing gown over her chemise when she had walked out of her room, and it was clearly not enough.
“You have a beautiful voice,” Rhys said as he escorted her out of the nursery.
Isabel smiled. “I prefer it when you sing.”
Rhys chuckled. “Perhaps I can tuck you in tonight.”
Isabel glanced at him, startled. Playful fire lit behind his eyes. She opened her mouth to retort, and… sneezed instead.
Rhys frowned down at her. “You are cold,” he said, then touched his fingers to her cheek.
Isabel shrugged. “This corridor is not well heated.”
Rhys shook his head. “Let’s get you back into bed.”
When they reached Isabel’s room, Rhys put his words to action and tucked Isabel in so that only her head peeked out of the covers.
Mrs. Ainsworth entered just then with a bowl of soup.
As she left, Isabel regarded the bowl and frowned. “How am I to eat my soup when my hands are weighed down by blankets?”
Rhys chuckled. “Not to worry. Your husband will feed you.”
True to his word, he took a spoonful of soup and brought it to her lips. Isabel swallowed then sputtered a laugh. “It is rather uncomfortable eating soup when someone is feeding you.”
Rhys grunted. “You shall have to get used to it.”
* * *
Rhys stared at the canopy above the bed a few minutes later, listening to the even staccato of raindrops beating against the window. His wife kept shifting in bed, unable to find a comfortable position.
She finally turned toward him. “Rhys?”
He grunted.
“Are you sleeping?”
Rhys let out a chuckle. “What if I say yes?”
Isabel smiled. “I won’t believe you.”
He turned toward her. “What’s the matter?”
“I am still cold… Can you…? Perhaps if you hold me….”
Rhys hid his smile and shifted toward her. He wrapped her in his arms, her back to him, his one hand running over her body in an attempt to warm her.
