Fogg leaned in and spoke softly. “As someone who’s been where you are now, I understand what you’re feeling. But trust me, Allister, you’re not going to win this one. Just give us the name.”
Fogg was probably the only person alive who truly did understand. Simon sighed heavily. “Lord Alan Webber.”
“Was he part of the fake marriage scheme?” Ash asked.
“Not strictly speaking.” Simon closed his eyes. He didn’t want to tell anyone about what had happened to his sister, but perhaps it was right if Ash knew the truth since she was currently in his care. “The man who had my sister—” He paused for a moment, centering himself. “He shared her with a group of other men. Webber was the only one of them left. Which is why he knew I’d be coming for him.”
Ash let out a long sigh and patted his shoulder. “Get some sleep. If for no other reason, for Madelene. Husband material or not, she’s been worried about you.”
“What about Samantha?”
Ash shook his head. “She doesn’t know you’re here. She has enough to be getting on with right now without worrying over you. She’s making progress and I was afraid seeing you that way might set her back.”
Simon nodded. “Thank you.” How had he become so useless?
“Now rest.”
“You need to get some sleep too, Ash,” Fogg said as they turned for the door. “You’ve only had a handful of hours in two days. I’ll go look into the investigation.”
Ash raised a scornful brow, and Fogg held up his hands. “You’re the boss.”
Fogg cupped a hand around his mouth and spoke conspiratorially to Simon. “Like I said, don’t take your decision lightly.”
With an exasperated sigh, Ash left the room.
Fogg looked back as he reached the door. “I’m glad you didn’t die, Allister. We were worried about you for a little while.”
Madelene watched every breath as Simon’s chest rose and fell while he slept. At least now it was a steady rhythm and strong, and he’d regained some of his color. When Ash had finally made her leave his side, he’d still been frightfully pale, his skin almost grey.
He was propped up now and no longer lying flat. Apparently, he’d even been awake and talking. Thank God for that, but she was so conflicted. Part of her wanted to shake him awake, but he needed rest.
There was a light tap on the door, and Gwen peeked her head in. “I’ve brought you some tea,” she whispered. She closed the door softly behind her and handed Madelene the saucer, which also held a biscuit.
“Thank you.”
“The ladies are going to be up and about soon, so we’ll need you to stay in here or in your room for the next few hours.”
“Am I not supposed to be here?”
“It’s not that. We just want to keep the gossip to a minimum.”
That still didn’t make a lot of sense, but Madelene simply nodded and looked down at her tea. “I’d prefer to stay in here if I may.”
“Of course,” Gwen said with a nod. “Do you need me to bring you anything else?”
Madelene shook her head. “You have all been so kind. I am truly thankful.”
She gave Madelene’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll be back in a little while.” When she reached the door, Gwen looked back at Simon. She smiled and nodded toward his bed.
His eyes were open.
“Simon!” Madelene deposited her tea on the table with a slosh and a clatter and rushed to his side.
His lips turned up in a smile and tears instantly poured down her face as she gripped his hand. This time, it squeezed her back. “Thank God,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against the back of his hand.
“I’m sorry, Madelene.” He held up his other arm and she laid across his chest so he could wrap it around her. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry,” he said again. His voice was weak, but he was awake.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Simon.”
