Page 65 of Vying for a Viscount
“Good. I’m putting the cloth over your head now, and Nurse Pendergrast will hold the bowl. Breathe in and out. Hopefully, this will help your lungs clear. This needs to be done often. That’s good. Keep breathing it in. In case you’re wondering about your leg, it hasn’t improved, but it hasn’t gotten worse. Before I leave, I’m going to repack it with a fresh poultice and clean bandages. One more thing. I don’t know what His Grace has told you about me, but I use unconventional practices to help my patients.”
The doctor saved Knight’s life when every other physician had given up and left him to die. Not Doctor Hanson. The good doctor never gave up, and that was why Knight was still with them. Hecleared some of the mucus from his throat and whispered, “Do whatever you need.”
“I will, and I am.”
The tightness and pain in his chest and lungs lessened from whatever he was breathing in. It had a minty smell.
“That’s good for now,” Nurse Pendergrast said as the towel and the bowl were removed. She did something at the bedside table, then held out a cup. “It’s time for your laudanum. Please drink this.” When he finished dinking, the doctor and nurse helped him lay back down.
“Nurse Pendergrast will be taking care of your breathing treatments,” Doctor Hanson said, “Once the laudanum takes effect in a few minutes, I’ll tend to your leg. I’ll return in the morning.”
Greyson winced in pain and opened his eyes in what he thought was the dead of night. Pain he had never known before radiated through his injured leg. His head and eyes hurt as if a red-hot poker were being pressed against his temples. Sleep was a much better option than being awake. Several candles glowed in the room. As he glanced around as best he could, he saw the nurse sleeping on a pallet in the corner and Knight slumped asleep in a chair beside his bed. He cleared his throat and whispered, “Knight.”
“Hmm, what?” Knight mumbled, sitting up straight and opening his eyes. “Greyson.”
“You look extremely uncomfortable sleeping in that chair.”
He stood and stretched. “I was, but I wanted to talk to you about what happened, and the only way to do that was stay here until you woke up.”
“I remember clearly what happened.”
“I’m sure you do. I wanted you to know that the lad who stabbed you made it home safely.”
“Good. I don’t want him punished.”
“I knew you wouldn’t. I’m still trying to get Prinny to agree to let the leader from that day go free. Hanging him is not going toaccomplish peace. I won’t relent until he agrees. Meanwhile, don’t worry about the Black Knights or make any decisions about whether you will come back until you are back up on your feet.” He touched his shoulder. “Sleep and get better, my friend.”
After Knight left, he closed his eyes hoping to shut out the pain and sleep.
*
For a week,this routine continued. Letitia watched as Greyson’s fever slowly subsided, his lungs, though still raspy, improved, and even his wound on his leg was less angry. When the doctor said, “He will keep his leg and live,” she nearly collapsed to the floor and wept.
Knight and Charlotte were so kind as to offer her a guest room to stay in and sent for clothes, which Jane packed and sent with her driver. Letitia had sent a note to Mrs. Hartman about Simon. She would miss him terribly and would make up for her absence when she returned. She would plan a day doing all his favorite things. Anatasia, Aurora, and Hunter went home but spent hours each day with Greyson.
On the morning of the tenth day since his injury, she entered his room and found his valet, Dalton, shaving his face while Greyson sat up tall in the bed, looking freshly cleaned, his hair damp.
“I’ll be back,” she said, blushing.
“No,” Greyson said. “Stay. Dalton is almost done.”
She stood near the door and waited for Dalton to finish, pack up his things into a valise, and leave the room, smiling as he walked by her.
“Why was Dalton smiling?” she asked as she crossed the room and lowered her hip on the side of the bed where his good leg was.
“Perhaps because I’m going to recover and he needn’t find a position as a valet in another household.”
She giggled. “I think it’s something else. You were whispering.”
“It’s a man-to-man thing.”
“I hear you’re being moved to Danbury Hall today.”
“Yes. I can’t possibly continue to impose on Knight.”
“He has been most kind and generous. I’ve packed my things and sent them along to Rutherford Manor.” She frowned, and her heart plummeted. “I’m going to miss being with you. Even when you were a terrible patient.”
“You can visit Danbury Hall every day. According to Doctor Hanson, I need to keep off my leg for another week. He made me these wooden crutches so I can get around until my leg is strong enough to support me and switch to a walking stick.”
