Page 27 of In Want of a Wife
“Kate, come here!”
Kate rushed in as Lily swooped around the bed and fell to her knees beside Charlotte, who lay on the floor, pale, shivering, and unable to speak from fever.
“Send for a doctor,” Lily shouted.
Mr. Davies’s deep voice boomed orders out in the hallway before he burst through the door. He ripped the bedspread from the bed and tossed it to Lily. “Cover her up, and I will help her to bed.”
He lifted Charlotte and settled her into the bed as Kate rushed back in with an armful of blankets.
“Lottie, dear, listen to me,” Lily said, sinking down on the mattress beside her. “We are here, and you will be well. I won’t leave you.”
Charlotte closed her eyes as her body was racked by another round of violent shivers.
“We need to draw the fever away from her head.” Mr. Davies turned to the inn owner lurking in the hallway. “Do you have any willow bark?”
The owner left to search the kitchen, and while the rest of the world seemed to tilt and buzz around that small room, Lily sat at Charlotte’s bedside, determined not to leave her as the duke had done time and again.
Once the doctor visited, Lily could barely keep track of the time. All the while, Mr. Davies swept in as though he were back on a ship, commanding over the sickroom with great efficiency. She or Kateneeded or wanted for nothing as they sat watch over Charlotte, eagerly waiting for the fever to break.
Afternoon faded to night, and Lily insisted Kate rest first. And true to her word, Lily sat by Charlotte’s bedside the entire day.
“It’s late,” Mr. Davies said.
Lily rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. The sun had finally set, and darkness had seeped into the sky. A soft rain fell against the windows while candlelight flickered by Charlotte’s bedside, casting a glow over everything.
“I can keep watch if you would like to sleep,” he continued.
Her heart softened toward him, perhaps only a sliver, but still it softened. She rested her head in her hand and observed him as he stood in the doorway with his shirtsleeves rolled up, revealing fine, toned forearms. His cravat was untied; it had been for several hours now. The effect was all together devastating.
“She is very dear to me.” Lily cleared her throat, annoyed at how scratchy it was becoming. She tore her gaze away from Rafe to watch over Charlotte. “And we’re both alone in this world.”
“Is that true?”
She nodded. “You can be surrounded by people and still be lonely, Mr. Davies.”
He scratched the back of his neck and entered, ducking down to fit through the short door frame. He settled into a chair in the corner, his long body folded up in an attempt to fit. If it were any other day, she might laugh, but tonight, she couldn’t bring herself to find the humor.
Charlotte was gravely ill, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing one of her oldest friends in this world.
“Steady on, Miss Abrams,” he said. “She’ll come round. You wait.”
Someone squeezed Lily’s hand.
She lifted her head, noticing the weight of a quilt draped over her shoulders first. Then the bright light of the early morning sun spilling around her. She squinted, forcing everything into view.
Charlotte gazed up at her with big, blue eyes. “Hello, friend.”
Lily yawned, fighting back a smile and perhaps a few tears. Oh, how she hated to cry. “You are not allowed to do that ever again,” she scolded.
“The doctor will be by again shortly, but I fear I must return home. I think it best you go on.”
“I am not going. No, not without you. We will return to Stonehurst, and I’m sure Mr. Davies’s brother will understand. I will postpone the trip until you are in better health.”
“Kate can accompany you, then.”
Lily brushed back a slip of hair away from Charlotte’s cheek. “And who will care for you?”
“Lily, I am a duchess. I will not be lacking attention.”
