Page 27 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
Chapter Nine
“Did you sleep well, then?”
“Well enough,” Neil answered. “The beds are as comfortable as we could expect. And the bad weather, at least, has cleared up – no more rain.”
Harry nodded. “I’m glad. I think everybody would be pleased to get home soon.”
The morning was bright and frosty, the world just waking up. The innkeeper was all too happy to provide breakfast and seemed only disappointed that his illustrious guests were not staying any longer. Cynthia was clearly sick of the inn, and Neil hadn’t dared ask his mother’s opinion.
Still, needs must, and they would be on their way in just an hour or two.
The carriages had been stored in a large barn behind the inn, crammed in together and liberally dusted with straw, sides splattered with dried mud.
Neil circled both carriages, Harry following behind, on the lookout for cracks, chips, and signs of stress. So far, the carriages seemed in perfectly good condition, ready for the last part of the journey.
“Do you know,” Neil said, almost to himself, “I didn’t take my medicine last night, either.”
Harry lifted his eyebrows. “You didn’t? Why, how long has it been?”
“A day, I think? Perhaps a little more. But this is the longest I have gone without taking a fit formonths,Harry.Months.I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but…” he paused, a furrow appearing between his brow. “It’s hard not to get excited, don’t you think?”
Harry took a long pause before responding.
“You have seemed better,” he said, after a while. “Brisker, and with a little more clarity. I am thrilled for you, of course, Neil, but I worry that you are allowing your expectations to soar. What do you think will happen? No more fits?”
Neil bit the inside of his cheek. The answer wasyes, of course that was what he hoped. It was what he’d prayed for, night after night, clinging to the faint hope that he wouldn’t die, mad and flailing, the way his father had done.
He didn’t respond, but of course, no response was necessary. Harry sighed, raking a hand through his red hair.
“I don’t mean to disappoint you about this, Neil. Of course I want nothing more than for you to be fit and healthy again, but I do worry about what all of this is doing to your nerves.”
“My nerves? My nerves are fine.”
Harry placed his hands on his hips, eyebrows shooting up disbelievingly.
“Oh? Fine, are they? You’ve been remarkably melancholy over this past year, you know. And with good reason, I grant you, but you cannot live like that.”
“If my illness progresses the same way as my father’s, I won’t live at all.”
Harry growled under his breath. “That is exactly what I am talking about. You are younger than him, stronger than him, and we understand a little more about your illness now. Why should you not be able to fight this off? But if you are melancholy and miserable, you’ll weaken yourself, and then who knows what will happen?”
Neil’s shoulders sagged. “It’s easy enough to say that, but actually doing it…”
“I know, I know, old chap,” Harry sighed, slapping Neil on the shoulder. “I’m trying to keep your morale up and doing a frankly terrible job of it.”
“No, no, you’re doing fine. I need you to be practical, to… to keep me grounded, if you understand what I mean.”
Harry bit his lip and said nothing. Neil guessed that he did understand.
Some of his good mood was filtering away. Not that it was Harry’s fault, of course. Neil had known his steward and cousin for long enough to know that Harry would always tell the truth, with no sugar-coating and no stretching of the truth. It was better to lower his expectations for recovery now, rather than having a full fit in front of his family and realisingthenthat he was never going to recover.
“This is good news, though,” Harry continued, stepping in front of Neil so that his cousin was obliged to look him in the eye. “This long without a fit, or without any muddled wits? Thatisgood. Perhaps marriage is going to suit you.”
Neil snorted. “I’d settle for not terrifying my new wife out of her wits.”
Harry paused. “She knows, doesn’t she? About your condition?”
“Of course. But hearing about it and experiencing it is something else altogether, don’t you think? Patrina doesn’t deserve to have an invalid for a husband.”
