Page 57 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
Elliot leaned over, wincing as he did, to place the bowl on the table. “Do you have that laudanum handy?”
“Yes.” Charlotte withdrew the small dark brown bottle from her pocket.
“Make it half of what the doctor prescribed. I don’t like relying on that stuff, but my arm is burning like I’ve finally arrived at my final reward.” This time she held the spoon to his lips, daring him by her raised eyebrows to mention once more about being a man grown, and able to administer to himself. She certainly knew he was a man, for a fact. But she’d noticed his hand shaking as he took the last of the broth.
“Why don’t you scoot down, and I’ll fix your pillow so you can sleep?”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you crawl in beside me, and I can useyoufor a pillow? Then I will sleep just fine.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “Mr. Baker,you seem to forget you are my patient, and employee.” She tried her best to smother her smile, without success. She raised her chin in the air. “You must behave yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because. Well, just because.” To say she was flustered by his comments was an understatement. Yes, they’d shared a few kisses and perhaps a bit of inappropriate touching, but he’d never bantered with her like this. Is that what happened when a man was flat on his back and a woman hovered over him?
“I think your fever is rising, and you are speaking nonsense.” She sniffed and fussed with his blankets, tucking them in.
Elliot grabbed her hand, having a great deal of strength in his grip for a man recovering from a gunshot wound. He offered her a crooked smile as he ran his thumb over the skin on her inner wrist. “Kiss me good night?”
Whatever was wrong with the man? Maybe the gunshot had rattled his brains. “It is not nighttime, Mr. Baker. It is mid-afternoon, and you need your sleep. Not kisses.”
“Ah, so untrue, my dear Mrs. Pennyworth. One always needs kisses.” He continued to slide his finger over her skin, causing goose flesh to rise on her arms. “Are you afraid?”
“No. I am not afraid. I am trying to make you comfortable so you can get some sleep. Dr. Sanford said sleep was the best cure-all for any type of injury or illness.” She tugged her hand free and backed away. “I will bring these things to the kitchen and check on you in a little while.”
“Coward.” That was the last thing she heard as she closed the door and fled down the stairs.
Charlotte awoke with a start.There had been a noise. She was sure of it. Her heart began to pound, and she sat up, turning up the wick on the oil lamp next to her bed. Licking her dry lips, she climbed out of bed and put on her dressing gown over her very proper nightgown.
There it was, the noise again. She struck a match and lit the lantern she kept by her bedroom door. She picked it up and opened the door, raising the lantern, and looking up and down the corridor. Nothing.
That was when she heard the moaning.
Elliot!
She peeked in his room. In the shadowed darkness, she could barely make out his form. She moved closer, the circle of light from the lantern illuminating him. The blankets had twisted around his legs, and he thrashed around. If she didn’t stop him, he would pull out his stitches.
Placing the lantern on the floor next to his bed, she sat alongside him. “Elliot.” His face was hot and dry. The fever had risen. Reluctant to drag Thomas from his bed, and with her already awake, anyway, she moved to the dresser where a bowl of water and a stack of clean cloths had been left.
She carefully made her way across the room, then laid the bowl on the floor. “Shh. You must stop thrashing about. You will pull your stitches out.” She rested her hands on his chest, which seemed to calm him. Encouraged, she dipped the cloth in the water and ran it over his face, then down to his neck, then over his rib cage.
“Charlotte?” Even in his delirium, he remembered where he was.
“Yes. Lie still. You’re burning up. I’m trying to cool you off.” She continued with her ministrations, wiping, dipping the cloth in the cool water, wiping some more.
He settled a bit, then opened his eyes. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“’Tis no matter. How does your arm feel?”
“As if I slammed it into the wall, then set it on fire.” Even with his pain, he managed to offer her a smile. “Of course, having such a pretty nurse makes it all bearable.”
“Once I finish wiping you down, I can give you more of the laudanum. You haven’t had much of it.” She watched her hand holding the cloth as it smoothed over his golden skin. With the darkness right outside the light from the lantern, it was as if they were the only two people in the world.
“What are you thinking?” He placed his hand on hers to stop the movement of the cloth.
“Why?”
“Because you have a wonderful smile on your face. Content. Happy. I wish I could put that smile on your face forever.”
“And how would you do that?” Her hand continued smoothing the cloth over his skin when he released her hand and reached up to touch her cheek.
“I would start by doing whatever it takes to end this nightmare you’ve been thrust into.” His hand snaked around the back of her neck and tugged her head down. Once they were only inches apart, he whispered, “When that was resolved, I would put an even bigger smile on your lips.”
Her mouth dried up, and she stared into his piercing eyes. “How?”
“Like this.” Then his fevered lips covered hers.
