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“He will need to rest his shoulder as well as overcome this fever to recover,” the doctor replied, reaching into his bag. “I am more concerned about the fever. What prevented him from getting help?”
As if Evander had heard him, he breathed his answer heavily, “Aphrodite.”
“What?” the doctor questioned.
“Ignore him. It is his madness.” I shook my head, picking up the bottle of brandy the maid had brought and taking a large drink of it. I stepped back, allowing the doctor to work, and I had to admit, he seemed proficient and managed to stop the bleeding.
It felt as though ages passed before he finally stopped and wiped his brow. “He will need medicine and to be monitored through the night, simply for his fever to break. I will remain if you do not mind.”
I did not. I much preferred it, actually. However, I knew Evander rarely allowed people into his sphere. Should he awake with a strange man in his home, who knew what he would do.
“Of course. I will remain as well.”
“Do you not need to return to your ball?” he questioned.
“You are aware of who I am?”
“I was not aware until he said the name Aphrodite. There is only one person within all of London who has such a name. And from your clothes and closeness to the duke, I merely assumed. His Grace, though, is wearing a footman’s coat.”
I had not even noticed until he lifted the coat for me to observe. Evander’s clothes were always much more refined.
“He was determined to get wherever he was going.” The doctor frowned, standing. “Very foolish. He could have died. It is good you followed after him.”
I glanced over at the man now resting. I was unsure of how he had been injured, only that despite his wound, he sought first to go to my sister, even if it was to kill him.
Damn him. For now, I was a villain in his story, having all but told Aphrodite that he was a disappointment for showing up late. Had I not gone to fetch her, she might have come back up only when he had arrived, and his sacrifice would not have been in vain.
No. I shook my head. It was best Aphrodite did not get dragged into his chaos.
“My lord…my lord?”
“Yes? I mean, pardon me.” I shook my head. “I have not even gotten your name.”
“It is Dr. Theodore Darrington. I would shake your hand, but…” He lifted his blood-stained hand to me.
“I understand. There is a basin of water, and brandy.” I lifted the bottle. “I do not know what else to offer—”
“It is fine. I will wait until the patient is well. He will need something to sleep,” he said and moved to the basin to clean his hands.
“I am fine,” the stubborn fool called, trying to rise, forcing the doctor and me both to his side.
“You are not fine, Your Grace—”
“Wallace!” Evander called out, and immediately, the butler appeared. “Show the doctor out and see him paid handsomely.”
“Evander,” I snapped.
“Your Grace, you are not—”
“I trust I can rely on your discretion,” he said exhaustedly to the doctor.
The doctor stared down at him and sighed before glancing at me. “His fever needs to be checked in the course of the night. If it is not down, have him take this.” He handed me a vial.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“Your Grace, please heed my word and rest for the next few days. And call upon me again so I may observe your wound.”
Evander nodded, and the doctor gathered his things to leave.
