The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [100]
Sinjun moaned because she was afraid. She tried to pull away from that woman, tried to curl up in a ball and hide from her. The beautiful man who wasn’t an angel said in a very calm voice, “Leave, Arleth. I don’t want you inside this room again. Go now.”
“She’ll lie to you, the little bitch! I’ve known you all your life. You can’t take her side against me!”
She heard his voice come again, but he was pulling away from her.
Then there was blessed silence. She suddenly felt a cool wet cloth on her face and she tried to lean upward to bury her face in it, but there was his voice again, this time soothing and so gentle, telling her to lie still, that he would see to it that she felt better. “Trust me,” he said, “trust me.” And she did. He would keep the woman away from her.
She heard the other man, the one with the old voice, the soft voice, saying, “Keep that up, my lord. Wipe her down until the fever lessens. Every several hours, make her drink as much as she’ll take.”
She felt the cool air touch her skin. She vaguely realized that someone was taking off the sweaty nightgown, and she was thankful for it, for quite suddenly she felt the itchiness of her skin. She felt the wet cloth wipe over her breasts and ribs. But it didn’t go deep enough. She was still so very hot, deeper inside, and the wonderful cold of the cloth didn’t reach it. She tried to arch her back to bring the cloth closer.
She felt a man’s hands on her arms, pushing her back down, and he was saying quietly now, that beautiful man, “Hush, I know it burns. I had a very bad fever once, as you well know, and I felt as if I were in flames on the inside, where nothing could reach, and I was burning from the inside out.”
“Yes,” she said.
“I’ll keep doing this until that burning is gone, I promise you.”
“Colin,” she said, and she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “You’re not an angel. You’re my bloody husband. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Yes,” he said, and felt something powerful move inside him. “I won’t leave you again, no matter what.”
It seemed then she must make him understand. She tried to lift her hand to touch his face, to gain his attention, and her voice was hurtling from her throat, the words raw and ugly. “You must leave, it’s safer for you. I didn’t want you to come back until I’d taken care of him. He’s a weasel and he would hurt you. I must protect you.”
That made Colin frown. What the devil was she talking about? Who, for God’s sake? She closed her eyes again and he continued to wipe her down, from her face to her toes. When he turned her onto her stomach, she moaned softly, then sprawled boneless on the sheets.
He continued rubbing her with the damp cloth until she was cool to the touch. He closed his eyes for a moment, praying for her and praying for himself, that God would find him ample enough in grace to listen to him. Finally the fever was down. “Please, God, please let her be all right,” he said aloud in the silent bedchamber, a litany now.
He covered her when he heard the bedchamber door open.
“My lord?”
It was the physician. Colin turned, saying, “The fever is down.”
“Excellent. It will rise again, doubtless, but you will handle it. Your son is sleeping on the floor outside the door. Your daughter is sitting beside him, sucking on her thumb and looking very worried.”
“As soon as I’ve put my wife in a nightgown, I will see to my children. Thank you, Childress. Will you remain here at the castle?”
“Yes, my lord. If she will survive, we’ll know by tomorrow.”
“She will survive. She’s tough. You will see. Besides, she has a powerful incentive—she’s got to protect me.”
And he laughed.
Sinjun heard the woman’s voice and she knew deep sudden fear. She was afraid to move, afraid to open her eyes. The voice was vicious and mean.
It was Aunt Arleth.
“So you’re not dead yet, you little slut. Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we? No, no use you struggling, you’re weak as a gnat. Your precious husband, the young fool, left you. Aye, left you to my tender