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“Why is the door locked?” Walter asked as he moved past her once she opened the door. His arms were full of packages.
She shrugged, uneasy with his scrutiny. Surely, he didn’t think she locked the door so she and Sterling could be alone? “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe it’s a bit unsafe leaving it open all the time.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. When I’m not at the door, you should probably lock it. Anyone seeking your help can knock.” He lumbered down the corridor to the kitchen.
“Dr. Stevens,” Sterling called from his bed.
Rayne squared her shoulders and entered the room. “Yes?”
Oh, damn, that smile. He held out his hand. “I want to apologize.”
“Indeed?” For heaven’s sake, she sounded like an old dried-up schoolmarm. Well, perhaps she wasn’t a schoolmarm, but she was sure he viewed her as dried up.
She relaxed her stance but didn’t take his hand. “I accept.”
He grinned, her insides betraying her again.
“I haven’t said for what I’m apologizing. As you pointed out, there are many.”
She sniffed. “You owe me no apologies except for drinking that brandy.”
He raised himself up on one elbow. “I will not do that again. You were right that I have had a few difficult days without the brandy, and I hope that one swallow won’t put me back at the beginning. Do you think so?”
“One swallow?” Her brows climbed to her hairline.
He rested his head on his hand, looking just like a little boy trying to charm his nanny into skipping his nap. Lord, why did she think of a bed? Well, perhaps because he was lying in one.
All twisted up again.
“All right. Perhaps more than one. I also want to apologize for embarrassing you before when I was looking at your—”
She raised her hand. “—please do not continue. I understand and accept. Now if you will excuse me, I must see to dinner.” She raced from the room as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.
“Are you well, Dr. Stevens?” Walter asked as she arrived in the kitchen in what she was sure appeared to be a flustered state.
“Yes. I am fine. I need to start dinner.” As Walter turned to leave the room, she said, “Please see to Lord Sterling’s needs before dinner is ready.”
Walter nodded and departed.
Ordinarily Rayne employed a cook, Mrs. Johnson, but Father’s combination companion, cook, and housekeeper had unexpectedly married and left his employ, so Mrs. Johnson was on loan to his household until Rayne could hire another employee for her father.
Life would be simpler if she could just find someone else for her household, but Father didn’t like Mrs. Johnson and Rayne believed the feelings were mutual. Her father could be a difficult man, and among his three daughters she got along with him best.
She often wondered if she had not followed his path if he would be any easier to deal with than her sisters had found him.
Tonight, she fixed whitefish, roasted potatoes, carrots and turnips, and salad. Walter had brought back fresh bread and a few fruit tarts to finish the meal. She enjoyed cooking and found it quite relaxing. It felt good to make something wholesome and tasty after dealing with blood and illness all day.
She hummed as she worked, her thoughts always returning to the man lying in the infirmary. He had been past the worst part of his withdrawal, and hopefully that little bit of brandy had not set him back too far.
Once she was sure he was strong enough, she intended to have Walter place him in the wheelchair and push him out to the garden for fresh air. With the man’s lifestyle, she was certain Lord Sterling hadn’t seen daytime close up for a long, long time.
Again, she wondered why he was so determined to destroy himself. Marcus had mentioned that Sterling seemed to adopt his current lifestyle only a couple of years ago when he moved to Bath. That might be worth looking into.
She stopped chopping the vegetables for the salad and frowned. Why did she care what brought her patient to this stage in his life? It mattered not to her. All she needed to do was see to his recovery from his injuries and while doing that, if she could improve his overall health by halting the consumption of alcohol, and giving him plenty of nourishing food, then her job would be done.
And he would leave.
She would not see him again.
