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That was good.
Yes. Very good.
Once the food was ready, she arranged it on a plate, grabbed silverware and a napkin, and carried it into the infirmary. Walter had done his ministrations and Sterling looked refreshed. Handsomely refreshed, unfortunately.
He’d been shaved and his hair combed. The clean nightshirt was open a bit at the neck and coarse dark hair showed through. He smiled at her and she almost dropped the plate.
“I am actually hungry for the first time in a while.”
She nodded, trying hard not to look at him, but merely deliver his food. “That is good. You need to put some weight on.”
“Why are you staring at my feet?” She could hear the laughter in his voice. Good heavens, did he guess she was finding him attractive? That would never do.
She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “I am merely making a clinical observation.” There, that sounded very medical. She held out the plate. “Here is your dinner.”
“It smells good. You know, I think I would eat a lot more if you had dinner with me.”
She drew back. “What?”
“You know. You would return to the kitchen and get your plate and we would eat together.” His constant grin was very annoying. She had just chastised him and threw his friends out. Why was he being so congenial?
“I do not eat with my patients.”
His voice lowered. “Perhaps you should. It might make their recovery swifter.” He took the plate from her hand. “I assume you wish to be rid of me as quickly as possible. Look at it as a way for me to be gone sooner.”
Look at it as a way for me to be gone sooner.
Now why did that thought not make her as happy as it should?
Chapter 4
It had been six days since Lord Sterling had been dumped on her front steps, and Rayne was in such a muddle most times she couldn’t think straight.
He had passed the worst part of his addiction withdrawal, but the day before he seemed to suffer withdrawal again. The little bit of research she was able to do mentioned that days five to seven after stopping alcohol could be as bad as the beginning.
His injuries, however, especially his leg and ribs, prevented her from sending him home. When he’d developed a fever and was in and out of delirium the past two days, she worried that he had added an infection to his list of ailments and was constantly checking and changing his bandages.
Had he been any other patient, she would tend to him and go about her business, and her days would be fine. Normal.
Instead, she found herself at his bedside several times a day, sometimes just to study him as he slept. While awake, he was always polite, with a kind remark to make, or a bit of flirtation when he wasn’t burning up with fever.
She needed to stop the nonsense as quickly as possible. She certainly didn’t need to visit his bed as often as she did but found herself inexplicably drawn to him. Two other patients had joined him in the infirmary, both older women. Mrs. Wilson had fallen and knocked herself out, so Rayne needed to observe her closely.
The other woman, Miss Roberts, was in the final stages of cancer and her family no longer wanted to take care of her.
Rayne had put a screen between the women and Lord Sterling. In addition to her in-house patients, she had her normal round of calls to make with notes she received every day requesting her services, as well as expectant mothers and those who were not sick enough to stay in the infirmary, but still needed care.
Lord Sterling was interrupting her well organized routine. He was a dissipated scoundrel. She should treat his injuries and dismiss him from her life.
As she descended the stairs from her bedroom, she gave herself the usual talk about what she needed to do that day. Her first stop at the infirmary assured her that Mrs. Wilson was still bright-eyed. Most likely Rayne would send a note around to her daughter, who Mrs. Wilson lived with, and advise her that her mother could return home.
Poor Miss Roberts informed her that she had passed a difficult night. Rayne considered giving the woman morphine to ease her pain since the laudanum didn’t seem to be helping her anymore. In her opinion Miss Roberts was not long for this earth. As horrible as it sounded, Rayne prayed daily that the woman pass away peacefully in her sleep, and not suffer any longer.
Her next stop at Lord Sterling’s bed had her heartbeat speeding up and her palms sweating. “Good morning, my lord. Did you get enough rest? You appear to be doing better.”
“Good morning, Dr. Stevens.” He grinned and she fisted her hands at her sides waiting for his wanton remark. “My rest was interrupted by dreams of you.”
She shook her head an
