Page 42 of Black and Silver

Minnie’s eyes went wide. “The last fewdays?”

“Yes,” Lawrence said. He cleared his throat and squirmed nervously on his chair. “She, er, believed that you are afflicted with the same putrid fever that has, um, killed several people in the county in the last few months. She…she told me to prepare for the worst.”

Minnie blinked at him, then pushed herself to sit against the pillows piled behind her. “It’s been days?” she whispered, then sniffed as her nose began to leak, then sneezed at the sensation that caused.

Lawrence quickly fetched a handkerchief from the table beside the bed and handed it to her, saying, “Just three days. I have taken it as a good sign that you have slept so well and sodeeply. Sleep is healing, as my father always used to tell me. And you were somewhat lucid at times. Enough to drink the tea.”

Minnie blew her nose, too wobbly still to be embarrassed at making such sounds and producing such fluids in Lawrence’s presence. Now that she thought about it, she did vaguely remember waking long enough to drink something. There had also been a mortifying discussion between Lawrence and an old woman about how to manage soiled sheets and linens because Minnie could not get out of bed.

Thinking of that made her too aware that she needed to find a chamber pot right at that moment.

“I could use more tea,” she said once she’d finished blowing her nose, which left her with a sodden handkerchief in her hands. She glanced at Lawrence with a look that, on anyone else, would have been coquettish. “Would you make me some?”

“Yes, of course, my —”

Minnie’s mouth twitched slightly at the endearment Lawrence bit off.

“Yes, of course,” he repeated in a more serious voice.

Minnie smiled gratefully at him as he rose and took himself into the other room.

Her smile died as soon as he was out of her sight, however. Her heart longed for him so desperately. Now more than ever, as he had clearly been the most perfect nurse and caretaker for her.

She simply did not know what to do about the predicament she found herself in.

She knew enough to push herself to rise from bed, at least. It was alarming how weak and groggy she felt, despite so many days of sleep, as she pushed the Bible aside to swing her legs around to the edge of the bed. She paused once she was in position, then pushed with a tremendous amount of effort to rise to a standing position.

As soon as she was supporting her own weight, Minnie closed her eyes and frowned. No, walking through the valley of the shadow of death absolutely was not romantic at all. As she shuffled to the screen in the corner where a chamber pot was located, she shook her head at the silly version of herself that would even consider that expiring of a fever would be a poetic way to die.

She used the chamber pot with great relief, then made it halfway back to the bed before Lawrence returned to the room with a plate of some sort of tarts. As soon as he saw her, his eyes widened.

“Gracious, Minerva, what are you doing?” he demanded. He set the plate aside, then moved to sweep her into his arms and carry her back to bed.

Minnie scowled, but every other part of her aside from her face sang with relief and begged her to cling to Lawrence. It felt so good to be in his arms once more, even though the circumstances were very different to the last time.

“I cannot lie abed forever,” she said, sounding far more peevish than she felt. “I feel much better now and should be up and about.”

Her traitorous head sent her into a sneezing fit as soon as she said the words. With no handkerchief immediately at hand, she accidentally sneezed directly onto Lawrence’s waistcoat.

It was mortifying, but Lawrence did not seem to notice.

“You are not yet well, my—” He cleared his throat as he lay her in the bed again. “Your fever has broken, but you have a long way to go yet along your road of recovery.”

Perhaps it was wicked of her, but Minnie did not want to be out of Lawrence’s arms yet. So she clung to him, grasping at his waistcoat as if she were concerned for the mess she’d made, and generally doing whatever she could to make it more difficult for Lawrence to put her down.

After a few, vain attempts, he gave up the exercise and sat on the bed with her. From his expression when Minnie peeked up at him, he knew her game, but was perfectly willing to be complicit in it.

What Minnie wanted to do was to sigh and sag gracefully into Lawrence’s embrace, closing her eyes and resting against him, like the picture of a delicate maiden relying on her prince. What she actually did was sneeze again, sending snot dribbling over her upper lip.

“Here,” Lawrence said, half laughing as he twisted to retrieve another handkerchief from the bedside table. “I believe you require this.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Minnie asked as she took the handkerchief, then adjusted so that she leaned her back against Lawrence’s side before blowing and cleaning her nose.

“No,” Lawrence said, laughing harder and seeming to contradict himself. “I am merely grateful that you are still alive. I would have had quite a conundrum on my hands, had you expired in my care.”

“Yes,” Minnie said, feeling slightly better once her nose was marginally cleared. “There would have been inquiries.”

“No, I mean that I would have had a devil of a time digging a hole to dispose of you in,” he said, still far too cheerful for the topic. “Granted, the church has a small graveyard attached to it, so there must be shovels and other tools for the job nearby. And perhaps one of the current graves is new enough that the soil is still loose. I could have buried you atop someone else, I suppose.”

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