Chapter 25

Virtue felt she was dreaming.

It was the way that the light cascaded through the window and haloed the figure at the foot of her bed. He was an angel, or so she thought, glowing radiant, almost seeming to float as he looked over her. She couldn't tell who it was, for his features were obscured by the brilliance that backlit him, face and body too dark to make out. That, and her vision was blurred, such that it burned to open her eyes fully.

Not that it mattered, for she was dreaming. Dreaming of an angel, come to watch over her sleep...

"Virtue?" The muffled voice of the angel parted through her haze. "You're… you're awake—" It jumped to its feet and moved swiftly to her side, the light seeming to follow and expand around his silhouette, momentarily blinding her. She moaned and tried to lift her hand to cover her eyes, but she lacked the strength to even do that. "Thank the heavens," the angel—no, not an angel, she realized—exclaimed as he fell in beside her, taking that hand and holding it. "You're awake. You're awake."

"Sebastian...?" Her mind slowly tied threads of recognition together, the fog of her dream dissipating bit by bit. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," he replied, his voice thick and gravelly. "I'm here. I'm here."

"How?" she murmured weakly, her thoughts grappling with fragmented memories. "I thought... you left."

"I never should have."

"London," she whispered, at half-formed images of his departure.

"I came back."

"Where... where am I? What is going on?"

Memories trickled back into Virtue's consciousness like rain through the leaves of a dense forest. Sebastian leaving for London to investigate the death of his friend, the peculiar tea Lucy had brewed, the excruciating pain that followed, and then the enveloping darkness...

"You fell sick." He held her hand to his lips, kissing it. "But you are going to be all right. You are going to be fine."

"I don't..." Her head throbbed like nothing she had ever felt before. And her body was weak, such that she tried to shift in her bed but could barely move. "I don't understand."

"It's all right..." His voice broke, tears streaming down his face—a sight she never thought she would behold. "I'm here now. I'm here. Just rest for now."

Summoning all her strength, Virtue turned her head to look at him. He was not wearing his mask, but that wasn't what caught her attention. It was his eyes she could not look away from—they were bloodshot red and swollen, as were his cheeks. Somehow, she managed to lift her spare hand and reach for his face.

He welcomed her caress, leaning into it, closing his eyes, and offering a weary smile.

"How did... what happened? What of Lord Wellington?"

"Don't worry about that now," he reassured her, his smile broadening despite the tears. "Ralph shall tend to those details himself. You are safe with me. That is all you need to know. And I will never leave your side again."

Hearing those words, feeling the sincerity in his voice, Virtue felt a profound sense of relief wash over her. Her eyelids grew heavy, the effort to keep them open too great. With a faint smile gracing her lips for her husband, she allowed her eyes to close, and once more, she drifted off to sleep.

"There you go…" Sebastian offered gently as he steadied Virtue. "Just like that."

"I am perfectly capable of managing on my own," Virtue retorted with a sharp click of her tongue. "There is no need for such coddling, Sebastian."

"I am well aware of your capabilities," he soothed. "I merely wish to ensure your comfort."

"You do more than ensure—you smother," she countered briskly.

At that, he laughed. "Call me pedantic."

"I call you overprotective."

Another bout of laughter. "And I accept that title. I shall wear it as a badge of honor, in fact."

She side-eyed him as they continued their slow walk, letting him see the glare she shot his way, how tight her lips were, how irked she was with the way he was treating her. Except, most frustratingly, he took it in stride, almost proud that he was annoying her so. No anger from him. No frustration at the way he was being treated. He was the perfect husband and carer, a true gentleman in every way.

Truthfully, Virtue was not angry at Sebastian. It was herself who her rage was directed at. The fact that she needed him at all in this way, that she was reduced to a babe who could not take more than a few steps without tumbling, was beyond maddening. A body that was betraying her, a weakness that would not leave, and an over-reliance on a man whom she was happy to rely on but wished that she didn't need to quite as much as she did.

"Shall we turn back?" Sebastian inquired gently. He walked carefully beside Virtue, one arm resting under her elbow as he guided her.

"No," she hissed, trying to shake him from her elbow to no avail. "I am quite capable of walking further."

"I never suggested otherwise."

"You implied it."

He chuckled softly. "At least you have your spirit back."

Another side-eyed glare. "Do you find this amusing?"

"Quite the opposite, my dear."

"I don't think I have ever seen you so pleased. Perhaps it was you who poisoned me. Anything to make it so that I rely on you so—" Her accusation hung abruptly as Sebastian came to a sudden halt, causing her to falter in her steps. She turned to see a pained expression cross his face. "I didn't mean..."

"I would never do such a thing to you, Virtue."

"I know," she sighed and ducked her head. "I was just voicing my frustration… and I took it out on you. I apologize."

Seeing her genuine contrition, Sebastian's features softened into a forgiving smile. He gently guided her elbow back under his arm, offering his support once more. "I could never stay mad at you," he assured her, placing a tender kiss on her cheek.

She pouted. "I am beginning to realize that. The one advantage to being ill."

"Well, that, and all this time you get to spend in my delightful company," he quipped.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, how could I forget?"

"That is quite all right—you are unwell, after all. You cannot be expected to remember everything," he chuckled. "Now, shall we..." He indicated down the flat garden path for them to continue walking.

"Yes, I think I shall." She straightened up as best she could, employing all her strength and vigor. "And if you wish to accompany me… I suppose I can tolerate your presence."

"So very gracious of you."

As said, it was not Sebastian who angered her. On the contrary, she often wondered how she would ever manage without him. From the moment she had awoken from her illness, he had been a constant presence in her day: soothing her pain, catering to her every need, and providing unwavering support as she regained her strength.

And he never once complained. He never showed vexation at how long she was taking to recover. It was nothing but smiles and jokes and pure happiness. It very much seemed that he was just glad she was all right and everything else was merely an added blessing in his eyes.

Not that this made Virtue's situation any better. It was a week now since she woke fully and still, she was no closer to recovering than the day she had opened her eyes. Or so she felt. And yes, Sebastian would praise her and lovingly recount all her progress. He would remind her that on the first day, she could scarcely even sit up in bed on her own, that it wasn't until the third when she was able to walk, and yesterday was the first day that she felt strong enough to leave the castle and stroll through the garden... albeit with his help.

Clearly, she was recovering. She no longer felt the sickening dizziness, and she could now hold her food down without discomfort. An entire day had passed without collapsing, vomiting, or losing consciousness. The recovery process was slow and steady but progressing. She just wished it would do so faster!

"Shall we take a detour around the tree?" Sebastian asked her, his voice gentle.

"I suppose so," she sighed.

"Exciting, I know," he grinned. He held her by the elbow still, bearing her weight as they ambled along the path.

"A real thrill," she muttered bitterly.

"The most fun I have had all week!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

She wished he would stop being so darn cheerful. And for what? A walk through the garden! A very slow walk, at that. As grateful as she was for the way he was behaving, she would be remiss if she didn't admit that it was grating on her nerves. This wasn't the Sebastian she had fallen for. This wasn't the passionate, smoldering, temperamental monster who had once enraptured her. That version of Sebastian, she had not seen all week!

And she knew he must have been enraged by what had transpired. Someone had tried to poison her! She suspected he was looking into it. That he was planning something. Last night, for example, she had made her way to his study on her own to find him bent over his desk, scribbling furiously, almost snarling as he worked. The sight had sparked a thrill in her—this was the Sebastian she knew and loved. Yet the moment he noticed her presence, his demeanor softened, returning to the gentle caregiver she had come to know over the past week.

She wished he would involve her. That he would stop treating her like an invalid. But she also supposed for that to happen, she would need to recover first.

"So," she ventured cautiously as they approached the tree, "any progress?"

"Meaning?"

"Who did this to me," she stated plainly. "I assume you have some ideas."

She could sense his body stiffen, even if he held his smile and cheery tone. "Best that you not worry about that for now."

"Why not? I have a right to know."

"Focus on your recovery, dear," he continued, his grip on her elbow subtly tightening. "Once you are healed and back to your old self, aye?"

She sighed but nodded in resignation. Why bother arguing when she knew Sebastian wouldn't rise to the bait?

They reached the tree in the corner of the garden with the intent of strolling around it. The walk itself had only been five minutes or so but already Virtue felt herself tiring. Her legs pained. Her body began to sweat. Her breathing grew labored, but she would not give up. She could not show Sebastian how weak she had—

"We best rest here," Sebastian suggested suddenly, once they reached the tree.

"I am fine," she insisted through gritted teeth.

"You most certainly are not," he cooed softly.

"Sebastian." She wrenched her arm free and turned on him. "I do not need you to—oh!" she gasped as her legs suddenly gave out.

He was quick to catch her, one arm around her back, the other slipping beneath her legs, sweeping her off her feet. Literally. She might have tried to fight him, to push him away, but her body refused to cooperate—she simply did not have the strength.

"Right here should do it," he said with that same smile as he sat them both down. He held her the whole while, falling onto his rear so she remained comfortably nestled in his lap. "Perfect."

"I could have made it..." she muttered, her pride bruised.

"Oh, this is for me," he assured her. "I was getting tired."

She looked at him flatly and he winked.

Despite her frustrations, Virtue was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth either. This version of Sebastian might not be the fiery, intense man she had fallen for, but his tenderness in these trying times only deepened her appreciation for him. She recalled the loneliness and fear she had felt during the incident, and the clarity it had brought about her feelings. This beast of a man, fierce as a tempest yet gentle as a breeze, had utterly captured her heart.

She loved him. She knew that now. And where she yearned to tell him so... she held back, not wanting to confess her true feelings while she was in this dire state. What if he thought she was only saying it because of how sick she was? What if he only said it back because he pitied her? No... best to wait.

As they sat there, however, her on his lap, watching one another, a new desire suddenly rose inside of Virtue. One that had lain dormant for a while now, on account of her lack of energy. But she was feeling better, she was wrapped around her husband, and she was very grateful for how he had been treating her... so why not show him?

She flashed her eyes at Sebastian and he frowned. "What's that look?"

"What do you think?" she giggled and leaned in, kissing him.

As expected, he returned it fully. A passionate kiss that awoke something inside of her. She twisted her body and wrapped her legs tightly about his waist. She drew him in, one hand grabbing him by the back of the head, and—

"Wait." He pulled back and leaned away. "Virtue... I think we should wait."

"What? What for?"

"You are not well – you can barely cross the garden."

"So?!"

"So..." He grimaced. "I do not want you to strain yourself... if anything should happen—"

"It won't!" Virtue interjected sharply, her patience thinning.

"It might," he countered rightly, saw the pout on her face, and smiled softly. "Just a few more days," he then assured her, touching gently under her chin. "Just until you have your strength back."

She pouted more deeply, yet his next action—a gentle kiss on her lips—softened her resistance.

"You promise?" she asked.

"You think I want to wait?" he chuckled. "Now, come on." With a tremendous groan and an amazing showing of strength, Sebastian rose from the ground, lifting Virtue with him. "Let us walk back. If you think yourself capable?"

She glared at him. "Not funny."

He beamed. "I beg to differ."

They made their way back to the castle together, Sebastian bracing her body the whole way and Virtue pretending she did not need his support, all the while inwardly cursing the illness for what it did to her and was stopping her from doing. As if marriage wasn't hard enough.