Page 88 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
Eric shook his head slowly. “I thought that was what she wanted,” he whispered in despair.
“Is that what she said? Did you ask her?”
A sob escaped from Eric before he could stop it. He shook his head. “No, I didn’t ask her. I just assumed.” He covered his face with his hand. “Shehasto be all right. I cannot live if she is not all right.”
Isabella went to him and put her hand around his shoulders, squeezing gently. “Hush. It’ll be all right. Freya is a stubborn one. She doesn’t give up easily.”
Eric straightened up. “Well then, neither will I.”
ChapterThirty-Three
Eric and Isabella took turns sitting with Freya. The physician was not at all surprised when she came down with a fever.
“It is to be expected. She was out in the cold after all. It will be difficult to treat her if she’s out of it, but you must try your best to make her swallow the willow bark tea. Mop her brow with a cloth dipped in lukewarm water and make sure she isn’t either too hot or too cold. Once she is awake, I shall let some blood, but for now, I have done what I can.”
Eric did not like the physician’s words at all. “Is there no way for you to wake her up?”
The physician shook his head. “We have tried smelling salts to no avail. There’s nothing to do but wait. Despite the fever, she’s still doing well. Just do as I have instructed, and everything will be all right.”
The physician walked out, leaving Freya in their care. Eric had made sure to write down everything the physician said so that he wouldn’t forget.
* * *
The first thing she heard was soft voices. The cadence of the voices was soothing, and she felt safe, so she allowed herself to sink back into slumber, escaping from the throbbing of her head. The next time she woke up it was quiet aside from a single bird she could hear singing somewhere close by.
Am I outside?she wondered, but before she could get her bearings, she was drifting off to sleep again.
The third time she woke up, she was completely alert and remembered everything that had happened to her. She knew she was lying on a soft surface, comfortable and a little too warm. She opened her eyes slowly wondering where she was. She looked around at the unfamiliar room trying to orient herself, but she was quite sure she had never been here before.
The door opened, and Isabella came in clutching a tray. Her eyes fell on Freya and widened. She screamed and dropped to the tray, clutching her own face in stupefaction. “You’re awake!” she cried. “She’s awake. She’s awake. She’s awake,” she screamed out of the corridor.
Freya frowned in protest at the noise. It made her head pound, and she did not like it. “Hush! Quiet,” she tried to say.
“Oh! Sorry!” Isabella stumbled forward clumsily, tripping over the tray she had dropped, almost landing on Freya. “Sorry. Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks red. She didn’t have time to be more embarrassed because the room was suddenly full of people.
First Mama Campbell rushed in, wiping her hands on her apron, then William, who seemed confused as to what to do. Finally, Eric walked in, looking disheveled and disoriented as if he’d just woken from a nap. He smiled tentatively at her.
“Well, look at you,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”
Freya blinked a few times, trying to orient herself. Finally, she shook her head, looking around. “Where am I?”
There was a general burst of laughter in the room — it may have sounded a little manic and relieved, but it was real. Mama Campbell stepped forward, smiling. “You’re at St. John’s Wood. In the guest chambers — only because they’re the only ones on the ground floor. The physician recommended you not be moved.”
“Oh,” Freya said quietly, concluding that that was why they had not just taken her back to the Stark townhouse and left her there. “Well, I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” she mumbled.
Mrs. Campbell hastened forward, clutching her arm. “Don’t be silly. Of course, there was no inconvenience. We are all just so relieved to see you awake.”
Her eyes drifted to Eric. The details about what happened to her after she left the house might be hazy, but she did remember all of his words. He stepped forward, their gazes locked.
“If you will excuse us for just a moment,” he said to the rest of the room, “I would like some time with my wife.”
Freya’s heartbeat sped up. She wanted to protest. She wasn’t ready to hear whatever it was he had to say. His last speech had been bad enough. Everyone else filed out of the room, and she was left alone with him.
He came up to the bed, his eyes liquid with emotion. “Freya…” he began and then swallowed hard.
Freya stared up at him, braced for more bad news.
“I am sorry.”
