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“Lift the bandage,” he ordered.
I did so without thinking. Where previously there had been a break that pierced the skin, there was now nothing but a small pink patch where the skin had knit back together.
“What happened?” I could not believe what I was seeing. I reached out and prodded his flesh, unable to believe it was real. “How did this happen?”
“I told you! It was an angel! She sang to me and put her hands on my leg and healed me! It’s a miracle!”
I frowned, unable to understand what was happening. Richard was ecstatic, understandably so, and I smiled at him for his benefit. But I was more than a little skeptical myself.
What had happened? How was this possible? Had an angel really been here? In my house? I could not believe it. And could angels even heal? I had never heard of such a thing.
I would say that my cousin was feeling the effects of the laudanum, but he was perfectly sober and in his right mind, if annoyingly exuberant. And even if he was delusional, it would not explain how his body had gone from being infected and wounded to healthy and whole in the space of an hour.
“Where is Alistair? I want to tell him the good news,” he said.
“He is downstairs writing a letter to your parents. A letter he likely no longer needs to send,” I muttered. “You will not tell him this angel business, will you?”
“No, that will remain between us,” he said with a look.
“Good. The last thing you need is your family thinking you’re mad.”
“Hopefully, they will be so happy I am well they will not care how it came about.”
“Let us hope so.”
When I told Alistair that Richard was well, he did not believe me. He thought I was playing some sort of cruel joke on him, or perhaps that I had lost my mind. He marched deliberately to the sick room, watching me warily all the time, and opened the door with a haunted look on his face.
“Brother!” Richard called out to him happily.
The blood rushed from Alistair’s face and he wobbled where he stood. I placed my hand lightly on his elbow and pushed him forward.
He moved to Richard like a man in a trance, and when he saw his brother closely, saw the healthy glow and his wide smile, he sank to the bed and embraced him. Alistair Fitzwilliam, the Viscount of Hartley, wept like a babe on his younger brother’s shoulder.
Richard gestured for me to go, and I backed out of the room, allowing the brothers their reunion. Once the door closed behind me, I released a deep sigh and let my head fall back against the wood.
I heard someone moving and opened my eyes to see one of the upstairs maids entering the room across the corridor with a pitcher of flowers.
“Daisy, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Mrs. Landry said to prepare this room for the colonel, sir. So we can clean out the sick room.”
“Of course. Carry on.”
Daisy had been assisting with Richard’s care since they arrived late last night. I should thank her and give her some sort of tip.
When she re-entered the corridor, now emptyhanded, I said, “Daisy, I want to thank you for your assistance with the colonel’s care. You were of great help.”
She flushed pink and smiled proudly. “You are that welcome, sir.”
“There will be a little something extra in your pay this month.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you, sir!”
She turned to go when I suddenly thought to ask her about Richard’s angel. “Daisy, one more thing.”
“Sir?”
“When Lord Hartley and I left you earlier, did you sing to the colonel at all?”
