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“I was not teasing. You truly did.”
I reached to take the glass from him, and he held it from me, laughing despite his pain. “You have clearly had too much.”
He kissed the side of my cheek. “Not at all.”
We locked eyes. “Are we still speaking of the brandy?”
He shook his head. “No.”
He leaned forward to kiss me when there was another knock at the door. “Damn,” he muttered.
“Enter,” I said, standing taller as Eleanor came in.
“Your Graces, the doctor is here.”
“Already?” I was amazed.
“Yes, Your Grace, he was already on his way. Mr. Wallace said he has treated His Grace before.”
“Who?” Evander asked. “Dr. Cunningham?”
“No, Your Grace, a Dr. Darrington?”
Evander made a face but nodded. “Bring him in.”
I was quite stunned by the youth of the man who entered our rooms. He glanced at me and tipped his head. “Your Grace.”
“You’ve treated him before?” I asked.
“I told you I am fine,” Evander said. “Yet you followed me here?”
“You said the same thing in London, and I figured someone would call tonight if not in the morning,” he replied.
“I do have another doctor—”
“Please check him carefully, Dr. Darrington.” I smiled and left the room.
Once outside, I saw Verity farther down the hall, checking around the corner as though she were spying.
“Verity? What are you doing?”
“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Dr. Darrington here?” she asked.
“Yes, he is.”
“Truly, he is here?”
“Yes,” I repeated, not sure why she seemed so interested.
She exhaled, then turned around and left, muttering to herself.
Strange.
“Your Grace?”
“Yes.” I turned to Eleanor.
“Nanny Phillipa shall be here by nightfall.”
