Page 42 of Good Duke Gone Cold

Gregory couldn’t tell if Lyle was taking a stab in the dark with that conjecture or if it was truly a rumor, regardless, he decided to clarify.

“My mother is steadily recovering from some bruising, on her hip. It has proven nigh impossible to keep Margaret bedridden as a result of her broken her arm and twisted ankle, which evinces that she is fine.”

“And Mary?” Lyle’s eyes held genuine concern, but Gregory couldn’t determine how deep the concern fell.

“Mary is unconscious and with fever.”

Lyle sucked in his breath. “May I see her?”

Gregory balked at the request. She wasn’t on her deathbed. She would be fine. Why did Lyle want to see her? And why did it irk him so that he did.

As if reading his mind, Lyle added, “Not to pay respects. Just to wish a friend well.”

“Of course.” Of coursenot. This was Mary. He had everything under control, as long as he didn’t go near her. “Please, I’ll ring for a footman to take you to see her.”

Lyle gave him a quizzical look as if curious to know why Gregory couldn’t take him, as if Gregory didn’t have time for a short walk, as if Gregory didn’t care.

He cared. He cared more than he should. More than was good for him or her. He had to distance himself from her. And he would increase the distance even more the moment she woke up.

Despite pressing him earlier, Lyle let the matter drop and Gregory tugged the bellpull. Within a minute, a footman arrived and took Lyle to see Mary.

Gregory was plagued with thoughts of what Lyle would do and say. Would he be the one in her room when she awoke? All the better for him that he wouldn’t be the angel at her bedside.

Lyle wasn’t there when Mary awoke. In fact, in a rare interlude, no one was in the room when she finally opened her eyes. The fever had broke and her sheets were drenched with sweat. Some of the servants had gone to fetch new linens, Lyle had gone home, and Margaret had been sneaking in only when there was a willing abettor.

Mary felt like a sack of flour. She tried to push her hair back, but her arm fell back to the coverlet weak from exhaustion at the small movement. In an attempt to call out to anyone, she ended up coughing due to a dry throat.

Within a moment, Margaret erupted into the room on the arms of two footmen. “I thought I heard a cough. I was just convincing these two to bring me for a visit. Are you ok? La by jove’s beard you are awake! My dear, dear friend, I’m so relieved,” words and tears gushed out of her. After she had wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, she reached for Mary. “I was so scared. Please, don’t ever do that again. I’m the dramatic one.”

“Water,” Mary croaked.

Margaret clapped her hands in enthusiasm and was immediately brought a cup of water. She held it to Mary’s lips until she turned her face away with a mumbled thank-you.

“Are you ok?” Mary asked Margaret.

“I merely incurred a twisted ankle and a broken arm.”

“Merely?”

“My dear, you have been out for days and then had a fever. We were all so worried for you.” Margaret bit her lip as if withholding some information, but Mary did not possess the wherewithal to fully digest the expression.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. My foot is almost completely healed.” Mary eyed the two footmen forcing Margaret to explain, “They’re just additional support.” She waved her one good hand dismissively. “I’m fine.”

“Your arm?”

“It will be back to perfect in no time.”

“What about your mother?”

“She had some bruising, but she is in even better shape than me, and her needlepoint has improved, though none would have thought room for improvement from perfection possible.”

“Anyone else? The driver?”

“Everyone is fine. You were in the worst shape though I reassured Lyle that you looked worse than you faired.”

Mary raised her eyebrows.

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