Page 56 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
“Dr. Sanford recommended beef broth to strengthen you. Cook has some ready, if you feel well enough.”
“Yes. I believe I do.” He closed his eyes as Charlotte left the room, and the walls began to spin.
He must have fallen asleep because when he awoke, he was covered in several blankets, but continued to shake and shiver. A bowl of brown liquid sat on the table alongside him, and Charlotte rested in a chair near him, reading a book.
“How long have I been asleep?” Once again, his voice sounded raspy and dry.
She looked up and closed the book, giving him a warm smile. “About two hours. I brought the broth, but it’s cold by now. Should I send for some hot broth?”
“Please do, if you don’t mind. I’m terribly cold.” Cold didn’t begin to cover it. It was as if someone had dumped him into a freezing lake.
Charlotte laid her book aside and stood. “I will get Thomas to stoke the fire.” She leaned over him and rested her palm on his forehead. “You are growing warmer.” She lowered the blanket to his waist.
When the devil had his clothes been removed? Ladies were not supposed to be in a bedroom with a man to begin with, let alone with one half dressed. Even with a fever and a painful injury, he still had a hard time controlling the urge to pull her down on top of him and feel the weight of her curves against his body.
As if she read where his thoughts had wandered, she flushed. “Thomas and I removed your nightshirt while you slept so we could check your injury. We decided it was best to leave it off, since I will have to change the bandage, as well. Can you roll to your side?”
Slowly, he turned until his wounded arm faced her. “There is a bit of bleeding through the bandage, so it’ll have to be changed. But first I will get you some warm broth. She pulled the blankets back up, tucking them in gently, then scooped up the bowl of broth to return it to the kitchen.
After studying her swaying backside as she made her way to the door, he closed his eyes and tried to push that wayward image from his mind. However, waking up twice to seeing her face first thing had begun to strengthen the ideas he’d had regarding Charlotte as his wife.
Before the Annabella debacle, he had always considered his future wife would be of a pleasing nature, caring, and passionate. This unknown paragon would be a faithful wife, a loving mother to their children, and hold his heart prisoner. Of late, the unidentified woman was slowly beginning to resemble Mrs. Gabriel Pennyworth. Could he shake off the hurt and anger from Annabelle and once again seek that idealistic life?
To think of something else, he considered his lack of progress in finding the man torturing his client. And until the matter was resolved, he must remember that was exactly who Charlotte was—his client.
“Here is some nice hot broth.” The woman of his thoughtful meanderings returned to the room, once more challenging him to deny what he tried so desperately to talk himself out of.
Despite his mistrustful heart, he was falling in love with Mrs. Pennyworth.
* * *
Charlotte setthe bowl of broth on the table and placed a basket of cloths and a jar of healing cream on the floor. She glanced at Elliot and was pleased with what she saw. His eyes were glassy, but the shivering had stopped.
Carefully, she removed the bandage Dr. Sanford had wrapped his arm in the day before. The wound looked clean, so an infection was not worrisome. “It doesn’t look bad, clean, even.” She poked at the stitches gently with her finger. Elliot sucked in his breath.
No puss, only a slight amount of clean-flowing blood. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t an infection festering underneath.”
She glanced at him, and her heart shuddered. This was very dangerous territory. Elliot lay in bed, staring up at her, with half-lidded eyes. Nothing covered his upper body, leaving her to appreciate his golden skin, muscular chest, and brown curly hair tapering down, then disappearing under the sheet. She sat alongside him, her hip touching his waist, the warmth from his fevered body raised her temperature, as well. Were fevers contagious?
“I am going to dab healing cream on your stitches, then cover it with a clean bandage. I’m thinking after you’ve had the broth a little bit of laudanum might help you sleep.”
With his good arm, he raised his hand to slide his fingers in a lazy stroke down her cheek. “If you lie down beside me, that would help me sleep even better.” His voice was deep with passion, confirming he was not joking. When had their relationship changed from employer and employee to potential lovers?
Lovers?
Almost since she’d first met Elliot, she’d been forced to confront the attraction between them. The few kisses they’d shared had only added to the passion that sizzled like a living thing when they were together. She could engage in an affair, providing the proper protections were taken. She did not want a husband, but less than that, she did not want a bastard child.
A child. Now that would be the only reason she would consider marrying again. She had hoped to be a mother by this age, but that was not meant to be. She’d been numb for most of her mourning period, pushing thoughts of motherhood firmly from her mind.
But now she considered if she was prepared to give up the idea of motherhood completely. Perhaps it would be possible to marry again but hold her heart close. Something told her that would not be possible with Elliot. He had already appropriated a small part of her heart, and an ever-increasing part of her existence.
She finished wrapping his arm. “Let me help you sit up, so you can drink the broth.”
With some shifting and maneuvering, and Charlotte trying her best not to touch his warm, sinewy, tempting flesh, they managed to get Elliot leaning up against the headboard, with a pillow behind his head.
“No.” He stopped her from spooning the liquid into his mouth. “I am a man grown, and in possession of at least one good arm to feed myself.”
“Very well.” She took her seat and picked up her book but watched every mouthful he took. How could a man get shot, go through having the bullet removed, and the hole stitched up, and still look good enough to keep her lady parts humming?
