Page 48 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Twenty-One

The darkness was now a hazy, gray fog.

Marianne shifted her body in the bed, her muscles still stiff with discomfort. She wanted to open her eyes, but the command didn’t travel as immediately as she would have liked. Taking a deep breath, she was grateful to at least have that ability again. She wiggled her toes, moving her feet lightly back and forth. She flexed her right arm, taking inventory of how tight she was today, but it felt no worse than normal. The inability to command those fingers, to straighten her wrist, was ever as it had been. And yet, when she made the same movement in her left hand, she felt the same restriction, the inability to move her fingers or straighten her hand. Had her illness spread?

The fear that rushed her heart immediately opened her previously lazy eyes.

Rolling her head to the side, she had a view of the impediment, and it wasn’t that she’d been injured further. Another hand rested in hers on the blanket, alongside a head of dark tousled hair and a set of broad shoulders in a white dress shirt. The racing of her heart did not slow when she realized it was Thomas, on his knees by her bed, having fallen asleep clutching her hand. She blinked, trying to understand, and it made her want to smile and cry all at once. Instead, the only thing she could do was gently move her finger, caressing the inside of his palm, and she relished the intimate nature of her skin touching his.

She must have stirred him awake, for his head jerked up, looking around the room with a confusion that Marianne had felt many times before. But when his sleepy eyes met with hers, they immediately widened, his grip tightening around her hand.

“Marianne! You’re awake.” He stumbled to his feet, pressing a hand to her forehead as he sat beside her on the bed. “How are you feeling? No fever?”

Letting out a stifled laugh, she lifted her hand from his. “My shoulder is a little sore from the fall, but I’ll be fine. My body recovers slowly after a seizure, so I’ll stay to rest, but I know I’ll be ready for a meal soon.” She tried to keep her tone lighthearted, but her stomach turned as she recalled her last memory. “Was the ball ruined on account of me?”

“Not at all. You made your way to the empty corridor before anything happened, and we moved you upstairs without anyone the wiser.” He paused a moment before continuing. “The doctor assessed you to make sure you were uninjured, but we were all worried about you. I told them you’d see them when you were ready.”

Marianne raised an eyebrow, so he went on. “The ladies were concerned when you disappeared, so I explained.”

He must have meant Isabel and Emma. “Did you tell them… everything?”

Thomas nodded. “It seemed the easiest thing to do at the time.”

Marianne leaned back against her pillow. If their paths were to continuously cross because their husbands were best of friends, she didn’t want to drag on a lie or withhold the truth. She would have to believe that they, too, had her best interests at heart and would be friends worth trusting.

“Was I in the wrong?” he asked quietly.

“No, and tell them thank you on my behalf. I should like to see them this afternoon.”

“Very well. Is there anything I can do for you to make you more comfortable?”

The tone of his voice made Marianne tense. She wanted to give him the benefit of not sleeping well after a busy evening, but it wasn’t just weariness in his eyes. His expression held a portion of distance, of pity, and any hesitation she’d felt before now wrenched her heart in two.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, emotion growing thick in her throat and making her lips purse tightly together.

“Look at you how?” he asked.

She took a deep breath before finding her voice. “Like I’m nothing more than a problem to be borne. Like I’m a child needing looking after. Like I’m fragile and will shatter at any moment.”

Thomas gasped, blinking a few times over. “Marianne, I only wish to take care of you. As your husband––”

“Yes, you’re my husband. And I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but you promised not to coddle me, didn’t you?” Her words came out sharper than she’d intended, and it silenced him altogether. “Wasn’t it you who, just days ago, encouraged me to play the pianoforte and ride horses? Told me I could host a ball and do anything I wanted? Nothing has changed since then, except your perception of me, because you’ve seen what the epilepsy really means. And all I’m asking you is please don’t. I still have the same capabilities I had before. I may still need help at times, and I know I can ask you, but I’m not a problem to be babied or cured. I’m a person, a grown woman with thoughts and feelings and…”

She’d almost said desires. She was certain he’d see the meaning in her eyes if she’d said it, but now was not the time to press that matter. Not after everything his grandfather had said. Not if Thomas couldn’t see her as his wife first instead of his responsibility.

He watched her for a long moment after she stopped speaking, as if weighing and taking in her words. Then he nodded, looking down at his fingers intertwining with hers. “I do wish to look after you, Marianne. Not just because of your restraints, but also because I care for you. Though I understand your need for independence and for me to respect your wishes. I told you I want this home to be a haven for you, and I’ll not turn it into a prison, so you have my word. I will do my best not to coddle, and you can remind me when I’ve overstepped, but I hope you’ll permit me to care for you in some way and allow me to spoil you at least a little.”

The curve of his lips grew into a teasing smile, and Marianne’s worries eased. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Very well. For now, should you like to take breakfast in your room today?”

Marianne nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Then I shall send in Eliza for you.”

He stood and walked toward the door, but his words reminded Marianne of her clothing the night before, and she brought her hand to her neck.

“Wait.” Her voice thinned in a panic as she looked around the room. “The pearls.”

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