Chapter 19

Harriet couldn’t recall being so sick before, and that included her wretched bouts of influenza and chickenpox when she was younger. Her stomach burned while feeling as though it were being cut open by shards of glass. And the nausea. It was relentless. She knew only a few moments of peace immediately after being sick before it descended upon her again.

She felt worse than wretched. As luck would have it, Brody – the man whose high opinion she craved – was here to witness it all. If only he’d vanish. But no. He remained, despite her insistence he leave.

Closing her eyes, she forced back the tears that threatened once more. She’d betrayed his trust. She’d taken advantage of his desire for Harry, and in so doing she’d stolen something that never should have been hers.

She had lied in the most spectacular way imaginable. Brody was only setting his anger aside out of pity.

What about him though? Is he who you thought him to be?

No. He was a duke of all things. But at least he’d not pretended to be a member of the opposite sex. She closed her eyes to block him from view, even as he removed the compress from her brow and replaced it with a fresh one.

“You’re burning up,” he murmured. “I think it’s time for more drastic measures.”

Whatever that might entail, Harriet was fairly certain it would involve her wanting to die. She had to distract him somehow. “When’s the last time anyone checked on Lucy?”

“Betsy did so around three. Lucy was sound asleep at the time and showed no sign of fever.” The heels of his shoes scraped the floor. She could sense him moving toward the part of the room where the bell pull hung. “I’m going to send a footman to fetch the doctor, and then you’re getting back in the tub. It hasn’t been emptied.”

“What?” She hugged the blankets around her and tried to scoot farther underneath them in an attempt to hide. Lord, it felt as though her eyes were on fire.

“The water will have cooled hours ago. It should help reduce your fever better than these useless compresses.”

“I’m not getting back in the tub,” she muttered from under her blankets. “Definitely not while you’re here.”

“You most certainly are,” he said in an authoritarian tone she’d not heard him use before. “If it makes you more comfortable, you may get in fully clothed. I care not as long as it helps cool you down.”

“If anyone needs cooling down, it is you,” Harriet muttered.

“What was that?”

She groaned as a sudden sharp pain speared her stomach. When would this hellish nightmare end? Hissing a breath, she listened to Brody moving about. If he thought he’d wrestle her into the tub, he was sorely mistaken. She’d resist, despite her weakened state.

“You called, Your Grace?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Please have either Jimmy or William fetch Doctor Heartfelt. They may tell him the matter pertains to a feverish houseguest.”

“I’ll see to it straight away,” said the woman.

A rustling sound, followed by the fading tap-tap of footsteps, alerted Harriet to the maid’s departure. “That’s not the doctor who tended to Lucy.”

“It’s the man my family’s been using since I was a child,” Brody said. “I thought a second opinion might be useful.”

Maybe, though Harriet doubted it. She was fairly certain she just had to suffer the course of whatever this was.

“He doesn’t live too far from here, so I reckon he’ll arrive within the hour. That gives us enough time for a quick dip.”

Harriet clutched at her blanket. “I already…told you. I’m…not…getting…into…”

Things truly weren’t going too well when she lacked the energy to speak. She slumped beneath the weight of the very air filling the room. Her body burned, her eyes stung, and it felt like nails were being driven into her skull.

“Easy does it,” Brody murmured while pushing her into a sitting position. “We’ll just remove this.”

“Don’t have to,” she groaned, her words slurring.

“You’ll be glad it’s not wet when you get back out.”

Too weak to protest any further, she leaned against him while he went to work on removing her robe. It slid from around her, leaving her in nothing more than her nightgown.

Strong arms slid beneath her and scooped her up into the air. Her head fell against a firm chest, beneath which she could feel the steady beat of Brody’s heart. She clutched at his shirt and held on tight as he crossed the room with her.

When he lowered her into the water a few seconds later, she’d expected to gasp in response to the chill. Instead, she found it a welcome relief from the heat that consumed her. Which could only mean that she really had been in need of cooling down and that he’d been correct to act as he did.

It was thoughtful of him to do so. In fact, his every action so far was proof that he cared for her deeply. Perhaps as deeply as she cared for him? Was such a thing possible after what she’d put him through? He had said he didn’t hate her. After tonight she was inclined to believe him.

But where did that leave them?

He was still a duke and she was still a nobody doing her best to make ends meet. They were completely mismatched.

“Feel a bit better?” he asked. He’d dropped to a crouch beside the tub so his face was level with hers.

“Yes.” It was all she could manage to say.

His hand found her cheek and she pressed herself to it, enjoying the calming effect of his touch. It wouldn’t last. She’d recover and leave his home, return to her own dismal lodgings and get on with life. As would he. Not out of choice perhaps, but out of necessity. He’d realize soon enough that even if he could forgive her for what she’d done, and even if he was still interested in a future with her, it could never be.

Men like him didn’t marry women like her. And she would never be any man’s mistress. Not even his.

Which only made her feel worse when he pressed his lips to her brow. No words were uttered, but the gesture spoke volumes. It conveyed the contents of his heart, shattering hers in the process.

So she wept as he helped her from the tub shortly after. Not so much because of the fever this time, but because of the loss she was already mourning. Oh, how she wished she might have had a Season and come to London as planned. Perhaps she could have met Brody in a ballroom then. Although he would still have been miles above her in social status, at least she’d have had a chance.

“We need to get you into dry clothes.” He was already sweeping her nightgown up over her head while she stood like a statue, no longer caring if he saw her naked. All she wanted was comfort, her inhibitions be damned. “This will have to go too. Do you have others you can use?”

She blinked. “What?”

“The padding for your courses,” he said, drying her with brisk movements. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t realize until now. The water soaked the one you are wearing, so you’ll need to change it before returning to bed.”

Of course.

To her absolute shock and dismay, she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about him seeing her like this. She was at her worst, stripped of clothing, with her vomit filling a bucket just a few paces away, and blood about to stain the sheets unless he helped her stop it. Ordinarily, she probably would have leapt from the nearest window in shame, but she was beyond caring about the pathetic state she was in.

The only thing on her mind was returning to bed and getting more rest.

“Check my bag. The padding should be at the bottom.”

He wrapped the towel tightly around her and went to search through her things. She watched in stupefied silence. The situation was so incredibly strange it almost felt like a dream.

“Here we are.” He held up one hand and glanced at her over his shoulder. “What do you use to hold it in place?”

“There should be some long lengths of linen.”

He rummaged around some more and finally stood, a victorious look on his face as he showed her the items he’d found. And then he suddenly laughed while shaking his head. “Sorry, but this is by far the oddest situation I’ve ever found myself in.”

She managed a tiny grin despite feeling slightly dizzy. “I was…thinking…the same.”

All traces of humor vanished from his expression, and he was suddenly there, steadying her before she lost her balance. “Let’s finish up so you can lie down. Don’t overthink it, just let me help.”

It took her a second to grasp his meaning, but as soon as she did she almost bolted, jerking to one side so quickly she nearly tumbled back into the tub.

Leaning back, she stuck out her palm to keep him at a safe distance. “I…I can manage. Thank you.”

He gave her a skeptical look though his shoulders did droop with what looked like relief. Nevertheless, he told her gently, “It’s nothing to fuss about. Least of all in the state you’re in.”

Was he mad?

“I am not letting you help me with this,” she gritted, forcing all of her strength into each word. “Just…leave the padding and bindings there, on that stool, and I…I’ll take care of it.”

He did not look convinced. “You can barely keep yourself upright.”

“Brody.” She took a ragged breath and grabbed the edge of the tub when she felt herself sway to one side. “Please go.”

Instead of budging, he crossed his arms. “I’d rather not leave you alone, but I promise upon my honor that I will refrain from looking while you tend to yourself. Will that do?”

Too weak to argue any further, she agreed and waited until he’d presented her with his back before ridding herself of the soaked padding. Moving slowly while leaning her weight against the tub, she put fresh ones in their place then wrapped the towel around herself once more.

“I’m…ready,” she said, hugging her trembling body.

Leaping back into motion, Brody retrieved a dry shirt and dropped it over her head, then pulled her arms through the sleeves.

“There.” Standing before her, he ran his hands up and down her arms with long soothing strokes. “That should do it.”

“Thank you.”

The desire she’d seen in his eyes when they’d stood in his library yesterday evening had been replaced by tender concern. His hands assessed her cheeks and her brow while searching her face with his gaze. She watched as his throat worked, straining as he swallowed.

“You’re still very warm.” The whispered words fluttered across her nose. “Come. Let’s get you to bed and we’ll see about cleaning your teeth.”

She rolled her eyes but allowed him to do as he wished. If he ever needed to seek additional work, she had no doubt he’d do well as a lady’s maid.

“How’s your stomach faring?” he asked once he’d gathered supplies. “Any nausea right now?”

She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly to test the state she was in. Her stomach seemed to have settled. “No.”

“Let me know if that changes. I’d hate to make you feel worse.” He glanced at the clock on her dresser, studying it as if with concern.

“What is it?” she asked.

He swallowed, then shook his head swiftly and forced a smile. “Nothing.”

Without adding anything further, he put some powder on a small silver brush and ran it along her teeth with light scrubbing motions. Holding a small glass bowl he’d collected from next to the wash stand, he urged her to spit, before handing her the rest of her tea.

She drank while he cleaned away the supplies. There was something so temptingly domestic about it. The night they’d just shared was so intimate, she wondered if she would ever know such closeness with anyone else.

When he returned to her bedside, he perched on the edge of the mattress. The smile he gave her was filled with such adoration, she longed to throw her arms around him and hold onto him forever.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hot and uncomfortable.”

“And your stomach?”

“I think it may have settled.”

“That’s excellent news. I’ll ask Cook to make you some toast once the doctor has been to see you. I’m sure he’ll arrive any moment but…” He tilted his head at the sound of a downstairs door opening and closing. Approaching footsteps sounded.

Brody swooped in and pressed his mouth to hers with possessive force. The kiss took no more than a second, but it certainly left her fevered brain reeling. She gasped and stared at him in wonder as he leapt away from the bed and positioned himself near the washstand. When the footman arrived with the doctor, all the two men saw was a worried host trying to make his guest comfortable by preparing a compress.

“Doctor Heartfelt,” Brody said, his voice so calm and serious, it completely clashed with Harriet’s riotous state of being. “Thank you for coming at such an early hour. I believe the ailment my guest is suffering from is due to something he ate before he arrived. Nevertheless, I thought it best to check since the fever appears to be high.”

The doctor scanned the room for a moment before approaching the bed. Wary of his studious gaze, Harriet drew her blankets all the way up to the tip of her nose. Stopping beside her, the doctor pressed his hand to her forehead. “I agree. Can you please go over the symptoms for me?”

Brody did so while Harriet closed her eyes. They were so hot and tired they hurt.

“It is worth noting,” Brody finished, “that Mr. Michaels’s sister has suffered a similar illness, from which she is now recovering.”

“And how long did her symptoms last?” asked the doctor.

“One day.”

“Then it’s likely something they ate. Had it been something more severe, it would have persisted much longer.”

“Mr. Michaels’s symptoms seem pretty severe to me,” Brody grumbled.

A pause followed before the doctor suggested, “I can provide a more thorough examination of your guest if you wish, Your Grace, but to do so we’ll have to remove the covers and have him sit up.”

Propelled by pure dread, Harriet flung her head over the side of the bed and proceeded to retch while spitting into the bucket and groaning.

“Thank you,” Brody said, “but I don’t believe he’s up for that. Besides, I’m sure you’ve made an accurate diagnosis as usual.”

“He should recover as long as he gets enough rest,” the doctor added while Harriet kept up her act, which wasn’t hard to do, considering the state she was in. “Be sure to give him plenty of fluids to compensate for what he’s lost. And feed him as soon as he’s able to hold food down. Toast and porridge are my recommendation.”

Exactly what the other doctor had said about Lucy.

“And the fever?” Brody asked.

“It would appear that you’re managing that as well as possible, judging from the compress you’re holding and the fact that it looks like that tub was recently used. I can suggest nothing more, besides having one of your maids tend to him while you rest.”

“Thank you.”

There was a pause before the doctor said, “If that is all, I fear I must be going.”

“I’ll see you out,” Brody said.

As soon as the room fell quiet, Harriet scrambled from the bed and located the chamber pot. Even though she could barely stand or see, she managed to make quick use of it and was back in bed, tucked under the blankets, before Brody returned. She expelled a long breath. There was only so much lack of dignity she could muster. Despite everything else he’d assisted her with, having him watch her empty her bladder was not to be born.

She slid farther under the blankets and was curled into a tight ball when she heard him walk into the room. “What time is it?”

“Almost four.” His voice sounded strained, most likely because of exhaustion.

He ought to get some sleep. So should she. Going to work tomorrow would be… Oh God…she couldn’t afford to miss one more day.

“You’ve got to send word.” A chill swept over her shoulders. She shivered, no longer hot but chilled to the bone. Her teeth began chattering. “Mr. Hudson must know…I…can’t…work.”

“Christ, Harriet.” Brody was instantly there, his strong body climbing into the bed behind her. Undoing the blanket with which she’d cocooned herself, he pulled her snug up against his warm frame and blew hot air against the top of her back.

Unable to resist the soothing effect of being held and cared for by him, she snuggled closer. “I hope I don’t get you sick.”

“I think that’s unlikely. I’m fairly certain your ailment is linked to the baked goods you ate. The delay between you and Lucy eating those pies coincides pretty well with the time between each of you developing symptoms. The doctor agrees.”

“Yes, but—”

“Would you like me to fetch some toast?”

“I’m too…tired…”

“Rest then. You can eat when you wake.”

His lips brush the back of her neck. Harriet sighed and allowed herself to relax against him while drifting off to sleep.

When she woke, sunlight filled the room, but Brody was gone.