Chapter 17 Jahleel—A Deal at Dawn
JAHLEEL—A DEAL AT DAWN
Light streams through the window, bright and joyous. The velvet curtains remain parted as I asked. That’s good. I must still be in command of Anya House, and of myself.
Fully dressed in an emerald waistcoat with robin-blue threading and silver buttons, I sit up. The pain and fever have left. The heavens have spared me. I glance up at my ceiling and smile at the painted saints.
That means I have to keep the promise I made when I lay here. I’ll fix things for Katherine and Lydia. Get her a new husband and find me a new bride. Those promises were more easily made when I thought I might die.
Blinking, I see Carew sitting in a chair beside me. He’s awake, seated next to his sleeping wife. He’s holding her hand and reading.
“Ah, you’ve decided to rejoin us, Your Grace,” the physician says. “You missed the proposal.”
Proposal? Did I … Did Katherine? I wince. “Explain.”
“The vicar in Pride and Prejudice. He’s not marrying Elizabeth, but her neighbor.”
That sounds more reasonable. The Elizabeth character is too smart for the not-very-clever Mr. Collins. “I will have to have that part read to me.”
Carew stands and stretches. “Well, now that you are on the mend, I get my wife back. You’ll need to find someone else to read to you.”
“I have some ideas.”
He goes to his bag and brings magnifiers to look at my eyes. “I think a lucky candidate might be the woman who bathed you. Your former, maybe current wife.”
“Katherine.”
“Yes. Against my directions. There’s nothing in the iris.” Carew rears back. “I’ve been around this family long enough to know you can’t convince a Wilcox woman of anything she doesn’t want to do.”
Well, that is true. Does that mean she was truthful in all she said to me?
He counts my pulse. It’s probably elevated thinking of everything that happened last night.
“You’re a lucky, fever-free man, Your Grace. Seems like the ill-advised bath might’ve done it.” He picks up his stethoscope and listens to my chest. “Lungs sound clear. How do you feel?”
“Like Mr. Thom ran over me with the coal wagon. But other than that, pretty good.”
“His fever has been gone since midnight, Stephen.” Scarlett yawns. She rises from beneath pillows and a blanket in an accompanying chair. “After a proper breakfast, we’ll start more herbal teas.”
“Not more weed tea.” I rub at my temples. “I’ve had enough odd dreams.”
“No fussing, Your Grace. The herbs and diet will improve your appetite and help you regain some of your lost weight. I want to improve your health to lessen these occurrences.”
Could she be right?
Could Scarlett have found a way to defeat this? My world changes if this is possible. Even some of the foolishness I told Katia about trying to have an heir or finding her another husband might change.
Watching Scarlett yawn, I realize my sickness has been taxing on her. “Carew, take your wife to a proper bed before she has me believing in fairy tales.”
The physician shrugs. “My wife’s plans could help. Nothing I’ve seen from them is harmful. Torrance, what would it mean to you if this is true? Don’t you want control over your illness?”
I refuse to let my mind fully embrace this. I must always live and act as if I have borrowed time. “Fairy tales are good to believe in … for children. But go. Sleep. Enjoy life. Send Mr. Steele with whatever horrid thing you wish for me to drink. I thank you both for what you have done.”
“Your Grace, you’ll have to thank my sister. Katherine insisted that you wanted a bath. I think she frightened everyone into doing your bidding.”
Well, that is … was my Katia. “I’ll thank her when she returns from her business duties this evening.”
“I doubt my sister will leave Anya House until she casts her eyes on you,” Scarlett says. “I’m sure breakfast can be sent up quickly. I know Georgina has been baking through the night.”
Everything that happened between Katia and me flashes in my head. And she stayed even though I told her to go. “Wilcox women are determined.”
Scarlett puts her hand on her hip. “My sister is misguided and often wrong, but she wants the best for you.”
“The duke is already dressed for his day.” Carew puts away his tools. “We’ll alert your household. Anya House is quite packed with people who care about you.”
“My daughter.” I waggle my finger. “I must go see her.”
He puts his large hands on my shoulders and keeps me from rising. The fellow is quite strong. “No, my friend. Everyone will come to you. No relapses. No big activity. Not yet.”
Now is not the time to get sick again. “Very well, but you two, you both must rest. Let my mother and daughter know all is well.”
Scarlett links arms with Carew. “Anyone else?”
“No. Not right now. I have to prioritize. Lydia has been robbed of enough of my time.”
The two look at each other and say nothing. Their gaze is a combination of pity and wistfulness. I, too, wish things were different.
“I think Lady Hampton should know,” Carew says. “I’ll tell her. She’s been outside your door all night.”
My mouth drops open. Scarlett’s, too.
“I thought my sister went to bed.”
“No,” Carew says. “When I returned, I tried to convince her. She insisted upon staying. Wilcox women.”
Maybe her care is not a scheme after all.
Carew opens the door and sticks his head out. “Yes, my new sister is still there. Maybe there’s hope of you two finally getting along.”
“Close the door.” My words sound rushed. “Do not wake her but have Mr. Steele do so after he brings breakfast for two. He will bring her to me.”
“The games you two play.” Scarlett folds her arms. “Please make peace with her. That’s the best for your health, Lydia’s, and my sister’s, too.”
Carew picks up his wife and puts her over his shoulder. “Come, my lady, let the peers play their games. We can go play ours.”
If I had my balance, I’d wake Katherine myself, but Mr. Steele will work a better plan. “Go through the closet, through the adjoining suite. Send Steele to me the same way.”
The two laugh and shush each other as Carew tiptoes into my closet, and the chambers which would belong to the Duchess of Torrance—or the Duke of Torrance’s mistress.
Steele will enjoy following up on a few things, a few Tavis-related things. An astute woman like Katherine would know if her sloppy husband went to brothels or paid for mistresses. Her denials don’t align with what I know. “Tavis, if I save your reputation for Katia, you shall owe me … again.”
I sit back against my carved headboard. I must think things through and come up with the right strategy since I promised a smart Wilcox woman a deal.