Chapter 6 #2
He quickly slid an arm around my back and took my clammy hand in his. “Come now, I’ve got you.”
Quietly, I marveled at his patience and cavalier kindness as he accompanied me from the bedroom and across the hall into the bathroom.
My hair stuck to the back of my neck, and I wanted to scoop it up and out of my way.
Sweat clung to my armpits, and while I couldn’t smell a thing through my stuffed nose, I gathered that I stunk after sleeping two days away and sweating out a fever through most of it.
If the smell was bad, Cavendish thankfully didn’t mention it. He took me into the bathroom. “Are you okay from here?”
Cheeks so hot, I knew I was cherry tomato red, I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. The bastard dared to chuckle at my mortification. “Fine. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
As soon as he closed the door, I used trembling fingers to situate myself on the toilet. Knowing he was out there, listening, however, I couldn’t go. Finally, I croaked out, “Can you walk out of hearing range?”
I heard his droll amusement as he replied, “Why am I not surprised that your bladder is as shy as you are? This is me walking away.” His voice got quieter until I could barely hear him.
Able to relieve myself, I did so with a sigh and then stared longingly at the shower.
Decision made, I cleaned up and crossed the room on shaky legs to switch the shower on.
Barely a few seconds had passed when Cavendish’s voice cut through the noise of the water. “What’s happening?”
“I’m having a shower.”
“Do you think you can manage, or do you need help?”
“Absolutely not!” I practically squawked at the idea of him helping me.
He chuckled through the door. “I’ve seen a naked woman before, little mouse. It’s not a problem.”
Well, it was for me! “I’ll manage, thank you very much,” I answered primly.
As wonderful as the lukewarm water felt on my body, however, I burned through the small store of energy I’d gotten from breakfast. Soon I felt woefully light-headed, so I hurried through the washing of my hair and fumbled to get out of the shower.
My legs almost gave way as I stepped out of the bathtub, and I had to grab onto the sink to steady myself.
I must have cried out because Cavendish sounded almost concerned as he asked, “All right in there, darling?”
How casual he was with his endearments. “Fine … thank you.”
“I procured some clean underwear and fresh pajamas from your dresser. Do you want me to pass them through?”
Blushing profusely at the thought of him pawing through my underwear, I wrapped my body in a clean towel and opened the bathroom door. Everything was neatly folded and sitting in his palms. His gaze washed over me from head to foot.
“You look a little better.”
“I don’t feel it,” I whispered, swaying as I reached out to take the items.
“Do you need a hand?”
To dress me? My eyes flew to his in irritation, but I saw his question was sincere and not made in perverse jest. My irritation fled. “No, I can manage.”
Barely. It took me twice as long as normal to don my underwear and pajamas. As if he knew I needed some modesty, Cavendish was kind enough to select a pair of light cotton pajama trousers and a thin T-shirt.
As soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, he swept me into his arms like I was a bride. I gave a startled cry but wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “W-what are you doing?”
“You looked ready to pass out.” He carried me easily and then sat me down on the bed, facing the headboard.
“Um, I don’t usually sleep this way.”
“Where’s your hairbrush? And do you have hair ties?”
I pointed across the room to the old-fashioned dresser. I’d bought the cottage fully furnished and hadn’t had a chance to put my stamp on the décor yet. “On there.”
I watched Cavendish as he strode across the room to collect the items. When he returned, he sat down on the bed facing my back. I craned my neck to meet his gaze.
“Oh.” He stood up to pull a phone out of his back pocket and then sat again. “You’ve got several missed calls.”
Worry cut through me as I took my phone and typed in my passcode. Sure enough, there were texts from Jared from yesterday and four missed calls this morning. I jolted at the feel of the hairbrush gently detangling my hair, and I shot Cavendish another look of confusion.
His focus was on my hair, however, and the careful way he was brushing it.
Turning toward the headboard, I called my cousin while Theo Cavendish combed my hair. The sensation made me feel like a drowsy cat, but I pushed through.
“Sarah?” Jared answered, sounding frantic.
“Hi,” I croaked, my words nasally as I hurried to apologize. “I’m so sorry I didn’t pick up. I caught a cold and I’ve been in bed.”
“You sound awful. You sure you’re okay? I’ve been worried sick. I was seconds away from jumping in the car to come see you. Do you need me to?”
“No, no.” I didn’t want to drag Jared away from the farm. “I’m really okay. I’m just sorry I made you worry.”
“Don’t think on it. I’m glad you’re all right. You sure you don’t need me there?”
I thought of the man sitting behind me, taking care of me … So surreal. “I’m all right, I promise. Just tired.”
“I’ll let you go, then, but try to check in with me later.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
When I hung up, Cavendish murmured, “Why so many phone calls from your cousin?”
“He worries about me.”
“Aren’t you a grown woman?”
I bristled. “I am. But he’s more like an overprotective big brother than a cousin.”
“Sounds a little suffocating.”
“No, Mr. Cavendish, it sounds like family.”
The hair brushing stopped for a second, and I thought he might say something, but the bristles gently glided through my well-combed hair again. “I think considering the circumstances, it’s quite all right for you to call me Theo,” he suggested.
Theo.
It sounded so familiar.
To my surprise, I felt him part the hair down the middle, then he took one section and started to pull the hair together. I realized quickly that he was braiding it into two pleats.
“Where did you learn to pleat hair?”
Cavendish—Theo sighed. “Years ago, when I was an entirely different person, I had a girlfriend who liked when I played with her hair.”
It was universally known that Theodore Cavendish was a bachelor, a playboy, and a commitment-phobe. The revelation that he’d once had an actual girlfriend whom he’d indulged in such a way was … well, astonishing.
There was something in his tone, a slight bite, that warned me not to press him for more information. Instead, I enjoyed his gentle ministrations, my eyelids fluttering with drowsiness.
“For someone so shy, you’re rather comfortable with silence.”
“Doesn’t that make sense?” I murmured sleepily.
“I’ve learned that shy people are insecure people, and insecure people tend to need to fill silence.”
I huffed. “That’s not my experience at all. Moreover, silence is undervalued and underestimated.”
He stilled behind me. “How so?”
“Silence is a safe space. Not only does it give you time to think through what you’d like to say, it offers peace from all the things others say, all the everyday noise and clutter that mucks up everything inside our busy brains. Silence is where my imagination has space to flourish into novels.”
“I’m glad that’s what silence is for you. But it’s not like that for everyone, little mouse. Silence is a thing some people escape because thinking isn’t a safe space for them. People have obsessive and intrusive thoughts. Silence is the last thing they want.”
I’d never thought about that, but I realized he was most likely correct.
I’d had a friend at school who was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive thoughts, and she never seemed to sit still.
She was always on the go. Now I wondered if maybe she was just running away from her own mind. “Are you one of those people?”
“Thankfully not. Like you, I need silence to write.”
I wondered, then, how he understood silence could be so different for other people. Had he known someone with obsessive and intrusive thoughts? The girlfriend, perhaps? “I’m sad for people who are afraid of silence.”
“Yes, it must be rather tedious.” His tone suggested boredom.
It was that tone that I’d come to recognize as quintessentially Theo.
I’d overheard him talking with North Hunter and been disappointed by him.
His treatment of me that night in his room had confirmed my dislike for the man, if not the storyteller.
But now, after observing his care for me, I wondered if the perpetually bored aristocrat was a mask. And if so, why did he feel he needed to hide his true self?
“All done.” He patted the top of my head like I was five years old, and I felt his weight lift from the mattress.
Turning, I fingered the long, damp braids, feeling so much better than I had this morning. Clean and fresh, if still devoid of energy and stuffed up. “Thank you.”
Theo met my gaze and shrugged. “’Twas nothing.
” He gestured to a fresh glass of water and paracetamol.
“Take those and get some rest.” Then suddenly, he leaned over and took my phone off the bedstand and handed it to me.
“Passcode.” At my questioning look, he huffed a little impatiently.
“I’m going to put my number in your phone because I intend to go out for a bit.
I need some fresh air, and we need groceries. ”
“Oh.” He was staying, then?
I opened my phone, and he took it and quickly added his number. “Call if you need me and I’ll come back.”
“Okay.”
“Is there anything you require from the grocery store?”
I shook my head, the thought of food turning my stomach.
“You’re sure? You’re not due your period and need tampons or anything?”
I blushed at the blasé way he asked. Growing up with a grandfather who was loving but old-fashioned and didn’t talk about those things, I wasn’t used to a man being so open about the subject.
“Good God, woman,” he murmured, studying me. “Is there anything body-related that doesn’t make you blush like a schoolgirl?”
Scowling at the underlying mockery in his tone, I shooed him away. “I’m too tired to be subject to your charientism today, Cavendish. Off you go.”
He raised an eyebrow, something lighting up his eyes. “Well, well, well, don’t you have quite the vocabulary.”
“Why are you surprised? You said you’ve read my books.”
Theo full-on grinned now. “Yes, but I don’t remember you using words like charientism. And I wasn’t insulting you, little mouse.”
“No, you were low-key mocking me.” Even now my cheeks were hot with the confrontation. “If I’m such a joke to you, Mr. Cavendish, why are you here?”
His grin fell. “I’d think my being here was proof that I don’t think you’re a joke.” Theo’s eyes narrowed. “After that tongue-lashing you gave me back at Ardnoch, I can’t believe I forgot that beneath those shy schoolgirl blushes lies a temper.”
“Ugh.” I pulled the duvet over my face. “I’m too tired for verbal jousting.”
“Pity,” I thought I heard him murmur with humor in his voice. “So that’s a no on period supplies, then?”
Oh, for goodne—wait. I counted the days in my head. Damn it. I was due my period in two days, and I was as regular as clockwork. “Actually …”
“What’s that, darling? I can’t hear you through the duvet covering your face.”
Grumbling, I shoved the blanket down and forced myself to look him directly in the eyes. “I need … tam … Ineedtampons,” I mumbled.
“Ah, so that’s why you’re temperamental this morning.”
In answer, I used the last of my energy to throw the box of tissues at him. Theo darted out of the way, laughing. Still chuckling, he picked up the box and put it back on my bedside. Humor glittered in his eyes, making him even more attractive. “What a thanks I get for taking care of you.”
Knowing he was right, but still annoyed, I murmured “Thank you” and then turned on my side to give him my back.
The bastard sounded like he was barely holding in his laughter as he wandered out of the bedroom to go on his errands.
So surreal, I thought again as my eyes drifted closed. Life was so, so surreal right now.