“You’re awake!”
Elizabeth was propped against a mound of pillows. Her cheeks looked rosy, but with the light glow of health and not the burn of fever. Her blue eyes sparkled without the glassiness that had worried Madelaine so this past week. Dark smudges still lay under her eyes, and her face had a new hollowness around the cheekbones, but she looked vastly improved. “You look wonderful!”
Elizabeth smiled wanly. “Liar.”
“Oh, no.” Madelaine shook her head as she and Helen exchanged smiles of greeting. “I stammer when I lie, so rest assured I’m telling the truth.”
“Come.” Elizabeth chuckled and patted the bed. “Sit by me and tell me of you and Grey. I’m not sure how much longer I can stay awake.”
Madelaine pulled up the chair, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk about her and Grey. “Does your brother know you’re better?”
“He knows,” Helen answered, coming to sit by Elizabeth on the bed. “He was here last night when her fever broke, and he was here this morning when the doctor saw her. I’ve never seen a man as close to crying with relief as Grey was.”
“Aunt,” Elizabeth scolded. “Grey wouldn’t like you saying such things.”
“Pish-posh. As if I give a fig what Grey or any man likes. Except the king.” She winked. “The freedom to be outrageously blunt comes with having buried my husband.” She smiled wickedly. “And being wealthier than most helps.”
Elizabeth shook her head then glanced at Madelaine. “Ignore her.”
Secretly, Madelaine hoped she would someday be as confident as Helen was. “What did the doctor say?”
“That I’ve made a miraculous recovery.” Elizabeth promptly yawned.
“And that she doesn’t need to tire herself,” Helen added. “She’s to rest, which is precisely what I’ve been trying to get her to do.”
“I don’t want to rest,” Elizabeth protested, but she yawned again.
“If you don’t rest you won’t get better and then who will be on my side against Grace?”
“Has she been awful? Tell me what she’s done.”
“I will, but only if you lay down and close your eyes.”
“This is splendid,” Elizabeth said. “It’s like being put to sleep with my own special fairy tale. My nanny used to tell the best stories.”
“Sit up,” Madelaine commanded. She quickly rearranged Elizabeth’s pillows and then gently helped her to lie down. “Now close your eyes and listen.”
She spent the next hour regaling Elizabeth with tales of Grace’s wicked ways. When she was finished, Helen sang Elizabeth a song, until her eyes drifted shut, her breathing became even and her chest rose and fell with deep sleep.
Helen clucked her tongue as she looked at the clock. “I’ve got to go,” she said in a whisper. “But Grey will be here soon.”
“I need to go too.” Madelaine pushed back her chair to stand.
“Madelaine, are you still angry with Grey because of the night he didn’t show up to my apartments?” Her voice had risen. Madelaine darted a glance at Elizabeth. Still sleeping. Good. Helen took Madelaine by the elbow and led her closer to the door. “If you’re still angry, I think it’s quite unforgiving, given what you’ve seen of his character these past two weeks.”
“I’m not still angry.” Madelaine flushed with embarrassment. How could she explain to Helen that she was afraid to be alone with Grey because she was fearful of breaking her promise to herself?
“Then why not stay and sit with him? I know he wants you to. And Louisa can stay here. I’ll be fine without her, and she’s hard of hearing so you may speak freely to Grey.”
Madelaine glanced at Louisa, who sat quietly knitting in a corner. Could she stay with Grey and Helen’s lady’s maid? She felt herself wavering, and then Grey’s deep laughter filled the hallway. Her stomach fluttered, and she shook her head while scrambling around the room to gather the remainder of her things. “I can’t. I must go, now.” She could hear Grey talking to someone outside the door, and longing to be near him pierced her heart.
Helen stomped her slipper. “I don’t understand you,” she said in a low tone. “I don’t mean to be overly bold but you do like him, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Well then, my dear, if you don’t want to lose him, you’d better act as if you like him before another lady steals his heart.”
“Don’t put ridiculous notions in Madelaine’s head, Aunt Helen.” Grey’s deep voice made Madelaine jump. Her gaze flew to the doorway where he stood and a tremor filled her. He was perfectly shaven, his thick wavy hair wet and combed back from his face. He wore a dark blue coat that enhanced the golden color of his skin beautifully, and his tan breeches clung to his lean, muscular thighs. He looked the impeccable gentleman of Court except for the bloody gash on his face.
