“No,” Gray said quietly. “There won’t be any need. Trust me, Jack. Now, I think there’s something else that might help Georgie.”
Ten minutes later, the little girl was wrapped snugly in a very hot towel.
Dr. Brace, a solitary young man who’d wanted very much to buy the Cit Palace from old Greeley for his mother and his grandmother, arrived to see Georgie heaving up more liquid. “Hot towels? My God, it’s working. How did you know to do that, my lord?”
“My grandmother wrapped me in hot towels when I was once very ill. I was all stuffed up and having a hard time breathing. Since I’m alive and in good health today, I didn’t think the same treatment could hurt her.”
Dr. Brace laid his palm lightly on Georgie’s forehead, then her cheeks. He leaned down to listen to her heart and lungs. “She’s nearly clear.” He smiled over at Jack, who was seated on the floor, her legs crossed.
“She’ll make it, Miss Winifrede. It’s true that I feared it could become an inflammation of the lung, but it didn’t progress that far. You’ve got yourself an excellent husband here.”
Jack looked at Gray with such naked gratitude in those very blue eyes of hers that he winced. He wanted to tell her he didn’t want gratitude from her. Exactly what it was that he did want from her, he didn’t yet know. But not gratitude, never gratitude.
After Gray threatened to haul her over his shoulder and carry her down to dinner, Jack finally agreed to leave Georgie to Mrs. Smithers and a smiling Dolly.
She looked back once again, as if, Gray thought, she was terrified to leave her little sister. Georgie was sound asleep, wrapped in another warm towel. For the past three hours, when she woke up coughing, Jack had been there to rub her back, to clean her mouth, to whisper how much she loved her, and to tell her to spit and keep spitting. Every time, the little girl spit.
“Smile for me, Jack. You can do it. Just
think of the divine Mrs. Finch and smile.”
Jack rolled her eyes.
20
ON THE way downstairs, Jack said very quietly, “I just realized that if you weren’t my husband, my stepfather would have me in his control again. He would be able to starve me and beat me, whatever he wanted to do. That surely isn’t right, Gray.”
“No, but on the other hand, Jack, you could always knot your sheets again and climb out of your bedchamber window. Oh, yes, Darnley told me how all the servants thought you were brave, what with your daring escape.”
“Mrs. Smithers tried to sneak me some food, but Sir Henry caught her. He threatened to dismiss her without a character if she tried that again.”
He caught her against his side and kissed the end of her nose. “Georgie’s sleeping, her lungs are clear, and it’s time to fill up that skinny little belly of yours.”
The antagonism between Jack and her stepfather was so thick in the air at dinner that one could have practically choked on it. The meal could have been a disaster. It wasn’t, only because Gray engaged Mrs. Finch, a very willing accomplice, in a charming flirtation. When Jack rose, he said easily, “My dear, why don’t you and Mrs. Finch go to the drawing room? Sir Henry and I have a few matters to discuss.”
“No,” Jack said, and he knew that there would be no private talk with Sir Henry tonight. He didn’t blame her. She sat back down. Mrs. Finch stood beside her chair, and Darnley stood just a foot away from her, wondering what calamity would strike now.
“Very well,” Gray said. Sir Henry raised a thick black eyebrow. “Maria, my stepdaughter is showing her ill-breeding. Forgive her. I will see you home.” He flung down his napkin, nodded to Gray, and left the dining room with Mrs. Finch on his arm.
Gray looked across the lovely white tablecloth at Jack. He sighed. “I suppose you and I have a few matters to discuss as well.”
“Forgive me for not obeying you, Gray, but I don’t want you to deal with my stepfather, not alone. I thought about it. He’s a snake. I don’t trust him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled his stiletto and tried to stab you. No, I won’t leave you unprotected anywhere close to him. I can’t, not after you saved Georgie.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked immovable.
He took another bite of Mr. Potts’s Shropshire pudding. Mr. Potts had been generous with the brandy. His tongue was nearly numb. “I don’t want your damned gratitude, Jack.” He folded his hands over his stomach. “I guess you won’t understand this, but I’ll tell you anyway. Gratitude from a woman crushes a man, particularly if the man is her husband.”
“That’s unfortunate, because you’ve got it for life. I would be a very strange sort of person if I didn’t feel gratitude. My intent is not to crush you, Gray. Now, what do you want to say to Sir Henry?”
He sat forward, shoved his plate aside. “Will you trust me on this, Jack?”
“Only if I can give you a gun.”
He shook his head even as he laughed. “Yes, give me a gun and then leave me alone with your stepfather. I have a plan, but I doubt it would work with you in the room. It’s my only plan, there is no alternative plan waiting in the wings that would include the both of us. Now, will you trust me?”
“All right, but I’ll be worried until I know you’re safe and sound with me again.”
He rose, walked to her, and took her hand. “Come along. I’ll go back up to Georgie with you, then I want you to get some sleep. I’ll come to you when I’m through with your stepfather.”
“I’m worried,” she said. “You just don’t know him as well as I do. He’s capable of anything.”