Page 71 of A Daring Pursuit

Noah met her eyes and smiled too. The moment was poignant and drowned the pounding from her head with another sort of rush. One of heat, and an overwhelming desire to move over and invite him to join her.

She struggled for something, anything, to say to sever the hold he had on her. She cleared her throat. “Um, how old were you when Julius came to Stonemare?”

“I was ten. My father showed up on one stormy night—so commonplace, I know—handed him to me and said I could keep him.”

“Where was your mother?” she asked softly.

“Having another baby. Father told me he wanted people to believe she bore Julius and the other at the same time.” He shook his head. “As children, we are told little of the process.”

“True. I remember my mother being so ill, yet no one explained her ‘symptoms’ were normal. Our neighbor who lived below us told me she was on her deathbed.”

“Good God,” he breathed.

“Yes. I was five. That’s when I saw that man… saw… your father.”

A hush infiltrated the space that was… peaceful. “What of the other child?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know. As I said, Father wished all to believe she’d had twins. I suppose the midwife would have known. But a high percentage of children and the mothers never make it past childbirth. I don’t even know if the child she had was male or female. It was never discussed.”

She shuddered. Such a dire thought had one wondering whether the purpose of going through such an ordeal was worth one’s life.

“Have your broth, Geneva. You require nourishment, but mind what I said about too much. There isn’t a great deal known about head injuries. But nausea is common.”

Geneva didn’t respond. She picked up the bowl of broth and dipped a spoon into it. “This was made fairly quickly.”

“It’s been simmering on the stove in the event you woke hungry,” he told her.

Stunned, Geneva stared at him, a suspicious sting that had her dropping her eyes and quickly blinking. “Are you certain?”

“Everyone’s been on tenterhooks worrying for you since… well, since you were brought in like a drowned kitten. Even Docia.” He gave a grim smile. “The storm broke before I could reach shelter. In fact, you’ve not been alone for a moment since. Isabelle, then Julius, absolutely refused to leave your side until I returned…”

“Returned?” she said faintly, the spoon poised midair.

The intensity of his gaze pierced her to an uncomfortable degree. “Volunteers have been out combing the woods for the man who tried to kill you.”

“A-A man… tried t-to kill me?” A vision of the black, swirling greatcoat surged in her mind and the throb in her head turned into a pointed anvil, sending a swarm of blinding waves through her. The bowl slipped from her fingers, spilling broth over her night rail and the coverlets.

The nausea hit with a vengeance.

*

In seconds, Noahhad Geneva from the bed and was holding silken, ebony hair back while the contents of her stomach—which was almost nil—quickly turned into dry heaves. “I have you,” he murmured.

“Oh, this is so mortifying,” she croaked out.

“I’m going to carry you to the settee. Let me know when you are ready.”

“I-I’m ready.”

Noah lifted her gently, being especially mindful of sudden moves, and carried her to the fire. He tucked a blanket about her then frowned. Perspiration lined her forehead and her upper lip. He blotted the dampness away with his sleeve, then retrieved aglass of water for her. “I’ll return shortly with a maid to change the linens,” he said, studying her closely.

Her head dropped in a single palm. “Oh, God.”

With nothing more to say, he cupped her head with his hand, hoping to reassure her. It was warm, not feverish, to the touch. “I’ll be quick.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead then reluctantly released her and strode through the sitting room to Pasha’s chamber. She hadn’t taken to bed yet and was pacing, likely believing—worrying—he would ravish her charge to ruin. “Miss Wimbley is ill. She requires assistance in changing her… her…” Heat crawled up his neck.

“Of course.”

“I’m going for Mrs. Knagg. I’ll be back momentarily.” He didn’t bother ringing. The late hour assured everyone was abed. He took the closest stairwell below stairs and found Mrs. Knagg reading by lamplight. “She’s awake, I take it.”

---