He wasn’t. He knew full well that Merrivale had suggested Ash retreat to Somerset because he was making everyone in the ministry spare with his meticulousness. His expectations were high, his disapproval swift.
“Very good of you to say so,” Ash said stiffly.
“You do not believe me, I see, but it is true. You adore your children and take every sort of care for them. Your servants are well treated and paid a good wage. You indulge your friend, Mr. Lovell, though he is as unlike you as another gentleman can be. And you’ve allowed me to come and nurse you without bodily showing me the door.”
“I couldn’t at the moment if I wanted to.” Ash cleared his throat. “I’m pathetically weak.”
“Indeed, no. Laid up, yes, but weak, never. You are the strongest man I know.”
They shared another look, Helena’s deep brown eyes lightened with flecks of gold. If Ash
If he’d been a well man, however, she would not be in his bedchamber at all. She’d only entered because at this instant, he was harmless.
Helena returned to him and smoothed the covers once more. Ash liked the warmth of her hands through the sheets, comforting and arousing at the same time.
She patted his arm, unaware of the incandescence she stirred within him. “Now then, you take four of these draughts a day—morning, afternoon, evening, and before you sleep—and that nasty chill will be gone in no time. I’ll tell Edwards.”
Ash suppressed a shudder. Edwards, who had a soft spot for Helena, would obey her instructions to the letter. Then again, the concoctions weren’t so bad. They were sweet yet with underlying vigor, like Helena herself.
“Sleep now, dear Ash.” Helena pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips cool on his hot skin.
“Are you returning home?” Ash asked, trying to make the question casual. “At least, to the cottage of your friend?”
“Do you wish me to?” Helena also pretended nonchalance, but Ash caught the trepidation in her voice.
“No.” Ash realized the word was brusque, and softened his tone. “No. The children would love to see you.”
Her answering smile held relief. “Then I’ll stay. Give me a shout if you need me.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, then turned away, straightened the bottles on the table one last time, and breezed out.
Ash imagined himself, well and strong once more, standing on the landing of the great hall and calling her name.
The picture was so heady he closed his eyes tightly to shut it out.
HELENA REMAINED at Middlebrook Castle for two days, at Lady Florence’s insistence. So good for the children to have her about, Florence said. Helena agreed and promised to stay until Ash grew better.
He healed in a remarkably short time. Ash spent only one more day in bed. The next, he was up and bellowing for Edwards to help him dress. He remained in indoor clothes—light suit covered with a banyan and slippers, and shut himself into his library.
Edwards assured Helena that Ash was taking the remedies as instructed, which the valet believed led to his quick recovery.
Ash ordered that Lewis, Evie, and Lily be kept from him until the danger of contagion had passed. The children were not happy about that, but Helena kept them busy writing Ash letters expressing good wishes for his health.
Lily showed Helena her finished letter, executed in stilted handwriting.
“If you married Papa, he’d never be ill,” Lily declared after Helena had praised the letter.
Helena gave her a startled look. “Gracious, I do not believe your papa would be happy with that idea.”
“Why not?” Evie put in. “The only lady he ever speaks of is you. And you fit all our requirements. First of all, you are tall.”
“Perhaps.” Helena could not find the words to argue with her and tried to turn them to other activities.
Lewis, a bit older than his sisters, said nothing, but he looked morose. His scheme for getting his father married off was failing, and he knew it.
The next morning, Helena told herself it was high time to leave. Ash had dressed to go out riding, hale once more, his schedule resumed.
