Page 72 of The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
He fell in beside her, and they walked to the main stairs and started up.
She waited until they reached the landing before saying, “Choosing the right ingredients for a restorative is tricky. I’ve selected those herbs and tinctures I believe will work best, but I will need to check on him later, to ensure I have the balance correct.”
Thomas glanced at her face, but she was looking down, holding up her skirts with her free hand as she climbed. Beyond his brief wonderings at breakfast, he’d been so engrossed in thoughts of Joy’s and Faith’s deaths, of what was going on at the manor, and of Manachan and his illness, that he hadn’t, yet, reached any real conclusion regarding her and him. Until last night, he hadn’t known there would ever be a “them”—that there would ever be anything more substantial than unfulfilled desires connecting her and him—yet now there clearly was… Was that connection an ongoing one, or had it ended when he’d left her room that morning?
He didn’t know.
Even more disconcerting, now he’d finally thought of it, was that he didn’t know what he actually wanted—if he would be happy to let their liaison end after just one night, or…
But there wasn’t any future in it, so perhaps he should simply let matters flow as they would—as she seemed so adept at doing.
As they stepped into the gallery, he glanced at her as, letting her skirts fall, she raised her head. Calm certainty, that serene self-assurance of hers, infused her features. Given his own less-than-certain state, he could almost resent that inner certitude.
He prowled by her side, wondering why he felt so oddly off-balance with her, even though interacting and dealing with her, and generally being in her company, had grown easier in the wake of the events of the past night.
They were nearing Manachan’s door when it opened, and Nolan, followed by Nigel, stepped out.
Seeing Thomas and Lucilla approaching, the pair halted and watched them. Nigel pulled the door closed behind him.
Lucilla stopped a few yards away.
Thomas halted beside her.
Nigel’s and Nolan’s gazes had gone to the bottle in Lucilla’s hand. After a second of staring, Nigel asked, “Is that it? The medicine that will keep Papa improving?”
“It is,” Lucilla replied. “How is your father?”
Nigel’s gaze rose to her face. “Better.” The admission was grudging. “Even after the funeral.”
“Amazingly better.” Nolan’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I just hope it lasts.”
Lucilla’s chin rose; her smile had sharp edges. “I know of no reason his strength and vigor shouldn’t continue to improve.” She raised the bottle. “This will help.” She paused for a split second, then imperiously said, “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen?”
No real question, of course. With reluctance, Nigel and Nolan moved aside.
Lucilla tapped on the door. When Edgar opened it, she held up her bottle and smiled. “I’m here to see my patient.” With that, she walked in.
Thomas inclined his head to his cousins, still loitering, and followed her, letting Edgar close the door behind him.
Lucilla was already with Manachan in his private sitting room. She was checking his pulse when Thomas walked in.
He stood to one side of the fireplace and listened as she questioned his uncle, queries that were clearly designed to assess his relative strength compared to how he’d been earlier, before the funeral.
When she ended her inquisition, Manachan fixed her with a sharp glance. “Satisfied?” He tipped his head at the bottle she’d placed on the mantelpiece. “Going to give me the rest now?”
She studied him for a moment, then smiled and reached for the bottle. “This won’t have as dramatic an effect as what I gave you last night, but if you consistently take a spoonful every morning when you wake, and again with your luncheon, and at night before you settle for sleep, then over the next week, and week by week after that, you should see further improvement.” After showing the bottle to Manachan, she handed it to Edgar. Her gaze returning to Manachan, she continued, “You can’t make yourself ill by taking too much. However, taking more than I’ve prescribed won’t get you better any faster. It’s designed to work steadily over time, as your appetite improves.”
Manachan humphed and glanced at Thomas. “I can’t say I’ll be sorry to get my appetite back. The only thing worse that eating pap is wanting to eat pap because all else is too much bother.”
Thomas managed a grin.
“I’ve already instructed Alice in how to make more,” Lucilla said.
“Aye, and how are you finding her, heh?” Manachan slanted a glance at Lucilla. “I have high standards in healers, these days—will she do, do you think?”
Thomas listened as Lucilla responded, and Manachan confirmed for himself that despite having buried Joy that morning, the clan would nevertheless be adequately served.
“And if she runs into any problem she doesn’t know how to treat,” Lucilla concluded, “she now knows me, and I’ve already told her to feel free to send to the Vale for any assistance we can provide.”
