Page 82 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
She laughed but took it from him carefully, and a faint blush proved she wasn’t immune to the gesture. “Thank you.”
He kissed her cheek. “You’re very welcome. What trouble are you three getting yourselves into?”
“We’re planning your first ball as the Earl and Countess of Longley,” Lady Drake said.
He frowned and turned to Amelia. “It isn’t proving too much for you, is it? I didn’t intend for it to become a big to-do.”
“All she has to do is make decisions,” Kate piped up. “Mother and I are giving her choices, and then Mother will get Mrs. Smythe to make the arrangements.”
He looked at his mother. “And that’s all right with you?”
She inclined her head. “It will be nice to play hostess again even if the role isn’t really mine.”
“We can share the role,” Amelia said firmly. “This has been your home for much longer than it’s been mine.”
Andrew’s heart warmed. He loved how thoughtful Amelia was and also how well she was making a place for herself in their family. His mother already adored her, and it did Kate well to have a role model with ambitions beyond marriage and children.
He pulled Amelia close and planted a kiss on her lips. Behind her, Kate and Lady Drake exchanged a knowing glance. He ignored them.
“I will be in the office if you need me,” he said, kissing her once more.
She nodded, slightly dazed. He hurried out of the room before his arousal became obvious. That was the last thing he wanted to happen in front of his mother and sister.
Amelia was lyingon her bed, reading a biographical account written by a cleric who’d traveled to Australia on a ship full of convicts when Kate rushed in, clearly distressed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up and marking the page so she could return to it later.
“Mama is unwell.” Kate stopped beside the bed, wringing her hands. “She cast up her accounts after dinner, and now she’s clutching her head and her skin is hot to the touch.”
Her gut tightening, Amelia got up and strode toward the door. “Is she in her bedchamber?”
“Yes.” Kate hurried along behind her.
“Have you told Andrew?”
“No, I wanted your opinion first.”
Amelia reached the end of the corridor and turned into Lady Drake’s bedchamber. The curtains were closed, and a lone candle flickered on the nightstand. Lady Drake lay on top of the covers, curled on her side with her face in her hands.
“Brigid, can you hear me?” Amelia asked as she closed the distance between them.
Lady Drake murmured something.
“I’m going to touch your forehead,” Amelia told her, then pressed her fingertips just below Lady Drake’s hairline. “You’re too warm. Probably not feverish, but that might be yet to come. We need to get you into bed. Can you stand?”
Lady Drake rolled closer to the edge of the bed, slung her legs off the side, and rose, swaying slightly.
Amelia steadied her. “Kate, I need you to pull back thecovers and undo the back of her dress so we can make her comfortable.”
Kate instantly did as she was told, pulling the purple bedcover and crisp white sheets down so that Lady Drake could slide between them more easily. Amelia shifted her mother-in-law to make it easier for Kate to access her back.
With shaking hands, Kate undid the buttons and pushed the fabric off her mother’s shoulders so that it dropped to the floor. She loosened the ribbons on the undergarments, unlaced her stays, and slid those down too, studiously avoiding looking at any body parts.
Amelia supposed that Kate didn’t ever have reason to see her mother in a state of undress, so it might be uncomfortable doing so now. Perhaps she should have called for a maid, but it had seemed more important to act quickly.
“Where’s your nightgown?” she asked Lady Drake.
She gestured listlessly toward a dresser in the corner.
