Page 46 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
This dear man. Just when Alicia wanted to write him off, curse him for binding her in a union when he intended to ignore her, Niall uttered heart-stealing things like this. Surely a man devoted to the care of orphans would one day come to give her more than just his name.
Alicia jumped to her feet. Niall raised his brows at her abrupt movements but she ignored him. She needed space. She might have thought to nurse him through this ailment, but she did not want to soften her regard toward him. So many things had occurred to cause her to doubt his view of her, and the pretty but unexpected words he now shared did not erase them.
“I’ll return shortly with a tray of food,” she murmured. When he huffed, his mouth a mutinous line, Alicia added, “I’ll bring you toast and nothing more. Surely you can handle that.”
“I suppose we’ll see,” he grumbled, although he reached for his water glass again and took a sip.
That spark of impudence cheered her, because although he called her stubborn, Alicia knew his tenaciousness was more than a match for hers. Such perseverance would be needed if he desired to recover.
…
Niall bit back a moan as he attempted to sit up.
His limbs were as wobbly as a newborn colt’s, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with sawdust. Still, he struggled until his feet hit the cold wood floor. For several seconds his head swam as he adjusted to the new position. How long had he been here, lying in this narrow cot with all the strength of a fragile babe? Weeks? Months? The constant isolation grated by now, and only one person could soothe him…
Alicia’s fiery brown eyes and teasing smile flashed through his mind.
She had been a steady presence by his side over the last week, plying him with water and food, and keeping his bedding clean and tidy. Although he hadn’t been well enough to leave his bed to inquire after the MacLean sisters and the other children who had fallen ill, his wife had brought him regular updates on their prognosis. Little Edith had given them a great scare when she had experienced several seizures, but had managed to recover thanks to the vitality of youth.
Although Alicia had not said it, Niall suspected he was the last patient to leave his bed. His cheeks heated at the thought. Yet try as he might, his body rebelled against his repeated attempts to rise.
Niall suddenly felt awkward. Nervous for her to see him in such a vulnerable state. Even with the dark circles under her eyes and the pinched lines about her mouth from the too-long days tending to everyone, she was infinitely lovely. In comparison, he was unwashed, unshaven, and weak. But none of that had altered the eager sweep of her gaze as she inspected him on every visit.
She had given so much of herself to help him recover, and had worked tirelessly to pull the children through their illness. His past treatment of her, his indifferent attitude, made his tender stomach ache in shame.
Panting from exertion, Niall closed his eyes as he focused on staying upright. What did he do now? Despite his efforts to keep her at arm’s length, Alicia had scaled each barrier with the force of her clever words and fierce gaze. Even the threat of cholera had not chased her from his side. The fact he could even sit here now, weak but very much alive, was because of her faithful efforts. Could he really go back to ignoring her?
He barked a chuckle.
What he could no longer ignore was what he felt for his wife…
As if pulled by an invisible string, the subject of his thoughts appeared in the doorway.
Clad in a nondescript brown muslin dress with an apron more suited for a butcher than a marchioness, her blond curls tucked into a neat bun, Alicia looked the part of an efficient nurse at a convalescent ward. When her expression darkened into a frown, Niall had the prudence to brace himself.
“Surely you aren’t ready to leave your bed quite yet.” She bustled to his side, holding a palm to his forehead. “You need your rest.”
“I need to bathe.” Niall curled his lip. “I offend myself.”
The spark of amusement that appeared in her eyes roused his spirits. “A bath would do wonders for your spirit, I’m sure. When you’re done, I’d like for you to return to your bed.”
“And I’d like to return to Campbell House. Surely I’m well enough to finally go home to bathe and rest.”
Alicia studied him, her lips pursed.
“Please,” he pleaded, grasping her hand and stroking a finger over her knuckles. “Don’t you ever just long for your own bed?”
Her nod was curt.
Niall was encouraged. “I’m well aware that I’m still weak and require additional time to recuperate. Even if such a delay sinks my campaign, I would like to do it in the privacy of my own home.” He tried for a cajoling smile. “I promise to be the most cooperative of patients.”
Her brow slowly rose to her hairline at that claim, and Niall was certain he had done it up brown. His surprise quickly turned to relief when she whispered, “Very well.”
She turned to quit the room, and he called after her, “Where are you going?”
“I intend to send a note to Campbell House. We need the carriage and a change of clothes. If you’re seen by the public leaving here or arriving at our home, I want you to appear hale. News of your illness has spread, and the sight of you on the mend will aid your public persona.”
Niall jerked his head back. “How is it known I’ve been ill?”
