“I am quite sure you are able to drag yourself to your bed, but I am more than capable of carrying my wife and children.”
“We will not know for certain until next week, when Grace’s mid-wife arrives.”
“For some reason I have a feeling Grace will be proven correct.” He gave Dotty a chagrined look. “Yet again.”
Dotty couldn’t stop a burble of laughter from escaping her. Before meeting Grace, he had not been impressed with the thought processes of females. But all that had changed. He had realized that women were quite capable of reasoning as well as men.
Thank God he had.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Nate’s head pounded like someone was beating on it. His mouth tasted like he’d eaten barn hay and he wasn’t sure where he was. Wherever he was, he was not alone. The sound of another person breathing, someone very close by, made him turn his head. The scant warmth of a candle touched his cheek and he knew he’d be better off not looking at it. But he needed to see who was here. Raising his hand, he blocked the light and squinted down at the head, shoulders, and arms of a female sleeping as she leaned over from a hard, wooden chair to the side of his bed. Her hair was in a long black braid. Curls escaping from it framed the side of her face where she slept on her arms.
Henrietta. What is she doing here?
He slowly lowered his hand and reached out, brushing back the locks covering her face. She was so beautiful, he ached to kiss her.
“Nate?” Her green eyes lifted to his, and he could see the fatigue in her face. “You are awake. Thank God! You are awake.”
Opening his lips, he tried to talk, but nothing came out.
“Let me get you some barley water.”
Nate started to shake his head. He didn’t want her to leave, but a stab of pain took his breath away and stopped him from moving again.
“Do not move.” She leaned over and poured a glass of what he could only assume was barley water. “The doctor said you would have a headache when you woke. I will help you.”
How the hell he was going to drink without sitting up he didn’t know.
Henrietta braced herself against the headboard and, using his pillow to support his head, lifted him slightly. His temple still throbbed, but that was all. “Slowly, now.” She lifted a wide-rimmed glass to his lips. “If I have to, I’ll spoon it into you.”
He drank, swishing the liquid in his mouth until it no longer felt so dry. “How long?”
“Four days. You have given us quite a scare.” She wiped his chin and set the glass to his lips again. “We were afraid.” Tears filled her eyes. “I was afraid you might never awaken.”
Four days?
No wonder she was upset. Nate wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her he was fine. “Never leave you,” he managed to croak.
“I know.” She brushed a tear away. “Drink some more of this. I added the willow bark powder the doctor left to help with your headache.”
How did she know his head hurt? Instead of asking, he did as he was told. He’d seen enough about head injuries to know he would be in bed at least another day or two. “Tired.”
“I imagine you are.” Setting down the glass, she took his hands, and he squeezed them.
He closed his eyes and closed his fingers more tightly around hers. “Don’t leave.”
“I will remain with you.”
Her other hand caressed the unhurt side of his head, and he leaned into her touch. She kissed him lightly, and he moved his lips against hers, then sighed. He was in no condition to even kiss her properly.
When Nate woke again weak light filtered into the room. His head was not throbbing as much, but he was still unwilling to move it on his own. He opened his eyes, testing the light, but there was no pain.
Henrietta was still there. Or there again. Her hair was up and her gown was fresh. If only he could wrap his arms around her.
She studied him and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I must change your bandage, but Dr. Daintree will be here soon. He might wish to do it himself.” Apparently having made up her mind, she rose. “Mrs. Garford brought something to keep the broth warm. Would you like some?”
His stomach growled. He wanted more than broth, but that was all he was going to get until he could talk this Daintree into real food. Nate was definitely not going to be a difficult patient for his betrothed. “Yes, please.”
“Good.” Henrietta placed another pillow behind him, easing him up high enough for him to drink the broth before going to the fireplace.
Slowly he turned his head and enjoyed watching her derrière sway under the skirts of her gown. This damned injury had better not delay their wedding.
“Here we are.” She placed a serviette over her gown and balanced the bowl on it, then scooped the first spoonful and fed it to him. When he finished the pot-liquor she smiled. “I hope for your sake the doctor will allow you to have real food soon.”
“I hope it’s soon.” It was satisfying to be able to speak in whole sentences.
“I am sure you do.” She took away the bowl and poured a glass of something. “You are a much better patient than my father or brothers.”
“I’m trying.” When she turned her eyes were twinkling like emeralds in candlelight. “Come here.”
Henrietta stepped over to the bed and sat on it. “Can you drink more barley water?”
“In a minute.” The problem was that he did not think he could get up and use the chamber pot. Just the thought of it made his head ache more.
He wrapped his hand around her much smaller one. “How did you come to be here?”
“I brought you home.” As she tilted her head, her forehead creased. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I was hit on the side of the head. I remember being lifted into the coach.” When had he lost consciousness? “I heard you say I must be moved to the town coach, but I don’t remember anything after that.” Except a gunshot.
“When we got here Mrs. Garford helped me clean your wound and bandage it. My sister sent over my maid and clothes”—Henrietta grinned at him—“and I have been here ever since.”
She slid past the part of her sister so quickly he almost didn’t notice it. “Your sister?”
“Yes.” Her face scrunched up adorably. “We had a horrible row, but something must have happened between the time I left and she appeared here.” She shook her head. “Merton has come by to see how you are doing, as have the Exeters and the Turleys. Your mother looked in on you, but she really is not good at nursing.”
That made Nate chuckle. “It’s not one of her strong points.”
“She kept talking to you and telling you to wake up, as if you could hear her,” Henrietta said in a bemused tone.
“No doubt she thought I was just being difficult.” He would have chuckled, but it might make his head hurt more.
“Yes, well.” Henrietta smiled cheerfully. “She quickly lost patience, and Styles and I took over again.”
He glanced at the door when it opened, and a gentleman a bit taller than medium height with light brown hair and a worried look on his countenance entered the room.