He didn’t even crack a smile at her joke. “How are you feeling?” His gaze crawled over her face as though he would find evidence of her health status in the lines of her features.
“My head aches a bit. And I’m thirsty.” She paused, assessing herself. Arriving at a new conclusion, she added, “Hungry. I’m hungry, too.”
“I’ll ring for some broth.”
Broth. “Hm. Sounds . . . appetizing.”
He hopped from the chair beside the bed, behaving as anxiously as a child released to play. “Just start with that and then we will see.”
Her gaze followed him as he made his way across the room and pulled a bell. In a blink, he was back. He reclaimed his seat and picked up her hand and chafed it between his. And that was strange. And confusing.
She told herself the action wasn’t affection-based. He was trying to warm her hands. That was all. There was nothing intimate about it. Her heart shouldn’t beat a little faster at the act.
She sat up a little higher in the bed. “How long have I . . . how long was I sick?” She brushed back a lock of hair and then winced at how grimy the strands felt between her fingers. She must look a mess. Not that she was ever any great beauty, but she had a feeling this was a personal low even for her.
“We arrived here three days ago.”
Three days! She shook her head in wonder. Three days in this bed. She didn’t just look a mess. She probably looked frightening. She wouldn’t even consider how she must smell.
“Three days? I never get sick. For years it has been me taking care of everyone in the Beard household.” She was the strong one. The one everyone could rely upon. “I thought I was immune.” She choked out a laugh. “First time I manage to leave Collie-Ben and I fall sick. You must think me terribly weak.”
He shook his head, his expression somber. “No. I should have taken better care of you.”
“No,” she was quick to say, bristling. She didn’t want to think she required anyone to take care of her. She wanted to think she was stronger than that. Even broken in this bed, she wanted to believe she was dependent on no one. She didn’t want to be a constant duty for him.
“Alyse,” he said her name quietly. “Everyone needs help now and then. There is nothing wrong that.”
Could he read her thoughts? A lump formed in her throat that she fought to swallow down. “You’ve done a great deal for me. I have been nothing but a burden on you.” She looked him over, taking in his handsome face and the shadowy growth of his beard coming in. It appeared he had neglected to shave again.
“Do I look burdened?”
She choked out a laugh. “Actually, yes. You look tired and haggard.” He simply held her gaze, his thumb stroking a small circle on the back of her hand.
A knock sounded at the door and a servant poked her head in.
“A tray please,” Weatherton instructed. “She is awake.”
With a quick glance to Alyse, the girl nodded and ducked back outside of the room.
But they weren’t alone for much longer. Apparently that bell had roused more than a servant to the room. The door burst open and a woman strolled into the room in an elegant gown of blue. In fact, all of her was elegant. Her wheat-colored hair was swept up into an elegant chignon. The smooth skin of her face creased in a delighted smile. “It’s true then! Our patient is awake. How wonderful.”
He rose and offered her his chair beside the bed. “Our Marcus here was quite beside himself over you,” she said with a clucking tongue.
“Was he?” Alyse looked over at him curiously. His smile from earlier was gone. In fact, he stood rather stiffly beside the chair.
“Indeed. He could scarcely be lured from your side. We gave him the room adjoining yours. Not that he ever made much use of it.”
Alyse glanced toward the door on the opposite side of the room. That was his room? But he had not been using it. He’d been here. Presumably in this chair beside the bed—next to her—for the past three days. For her.
“Oh!” the woman exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air with a puff of breath. “How remiss of me. I have not even introduced myself to you. Let’s not stand on formalities. My name is Poppy. I am married to Marcus’s brother, Struan.” She leaned forward to squeeze Alyse’s shoulder.
“Brother?” Had he mentioned a brother? There had only been talk of his sisters and stepmother. Why had he not mentioned this Struan? For some reason, she felt unaccountably stung. They’d shared things. Talked of family. How was it he didn’t mention he had a brother who lived in Scotland?
He didn’t remark on any of this. He simply stood, an uncomfortable air surrounding him as he shifted on his feet.
She stared up at him, marveling at Poppy’s words. As confounding as it was to believe, he really had been worried for her.
She was simply his housekeeper. He had made that abundantly clear. Surely he had not forgotten that fact? Why would he have been so worried?
“I’m sure you would like to get cleaned up.” Poppy stood and moved toward the bell. “I’ll ring you a bath.”
“Thank you.”
Her gaze moved to Marcus as he inched away from the bed.
“I’ll leave you then.” He turned his back on them rather hastily. Almost as though he couldn’t wait to depart the room. Strange considering all she had been told about his level of concern. Now he looked like he couldn’t get away fast enough.
He passed through the adjoining door and shut it behind him. She stared at the wood paneling for a moment as though it would open again and he would emerge.
“He was very frightened for you.”
She looked at Poppy again. The young woman wore a soft knowing smile on her lips. “Sometimes men don’t know what it is they feel when they’re feeling it because they’ve never felt it before.”
Alyse rubbed her forehead with the base of her palm. It was aching again. Perhaps even more than when she first woke.
“Confusing, I know,” Poppy added, her smile deepening.
Alyse shook her head. “I beg your pardon?” She was not even certain what the woman was talking about.
Poppy blinked and leaned down to gently squeeze her hand. “I’m talking about how confusing love is, of course.”
Alyse just stared at her for a long moment and then she did the unexpected. Unexpected even for her. She laughed. Even though it made her head throb, she laughed heartily. She couldn’t help herself. “Love? Oh, no no no no no. We are not in love. Most assuredly not.”
Poppy nodded with annoying conviction. “That is what everybody thinks, m’dear. It’s even what I thought with my Struan. Love? Absolutely not. It had to smack me in the face several times before I accepted it.” She laughed lightly. “I was so blind . . . so foolish.”
“Isn’t that what Mr. Thackeray says? That ‘love makes fools of us all, big and little’?”
Poppy’s eyes shone in approval. “My, you are a bright well-read girl.”
“My father was an admirer of his works,” Alyse replied self-consciously.
Poppy continued nodding with apparent approval. “No wonder Marcus is taken with you. You have a fine mind . . . to say nothing of your pretty face.”
Heat bloomed in her face. “He is my employer. Nothing more.” She would be a fool to expect anything else. Anything more.
Poppy’s smile turned knowing. “Very well. If you say so. But I shan’t be surprised when I hear differently later on.”
Alyse nodded, her fingers curling tightly around the bed linens, drawing them up almost to her neck.
Poppy’s words were a dangerous sort. They were the kind of words that fed hope to one’s heart and filled one’s head with useless dreams.
She already had dreams.
She didn’t need any new ones, especially far-fetched ones of this variety.
Gentlemen did not fall in love with girls they bought on an auction block. Not in any fairy tale she ever read.