A Most Dangerous Profession(85)

“Excuse me,” came Buffon’s voice from the doorway.

All eyes turned to him, and he bowed. “Mr. Hurst would like to see his wife.”

“Wife?”

Moira suppressed a wince. “That would be me.”

Mary plopped her fists onto her hips. “Robert never tells me a thing!”

Her husband took her elbow. “Come, my love, let’s meet our new niece. Her mother will be busy for a while.” Though obviously reluctant, Mary allowed Angus to take her to sit down near Rowena, where they began to talk.

Moira followed Buffon to Robert’s door, where Doctor MacPherson met her.

“He’s better?”

The doctor beamed tiredly. “Yes. Last night I wouldn’t have given you a farthing for his chances. But he made a turn in the middle of the night when the fever broke. He’s not out of the woods yet, but he has a good chance now.”

Moira bit her lip to keep from weeping. “Thank you.”

“I’ll leave him in Buffon’s hands. The man is a capable nurse.”

Buffon bowed, then opened the door. “Madame?”

Moira expected to find the curtains drawn and the room dark. Instead, sunlight streamed through the room, casting a bar of warmth across the large bed.

Robert sat propped up by pillows in his red silk robe, his face cleanly shaved, his hair neat.

But he still had a deep pallor and faint circles under his eyes.

“Buffon wouldn’t allow me to have guests until I was presentable.” His faintly caustic voice filled her with joy.

“Bless Buffon, for I don’t know if I’d recognize you without a cravat.”

“He has been impossibly bossy since my illness—which is to say, he is exactly as he was before.” Robert patted the bed. “Come and sit with me. We have much to say to one another.”

She walked over, feeling oddly shy yet overwhelmed with the need to touch him. She perched on the edge of the bed. “This is certainly a large bed.”

“Yes, ten people could sleep in it and never touch. Unless two of them were us, of course.”

“Unfortunately, you tend to steal the covers,” she said primly, aching to throw her arms around him and hold him tightly.

“And you snore—very softly, but still.” His lips twitched. “I’d say we’re even.”

It was pure luxury to be able to banter with him, even this little bit.

“Where’s Rowena?”

“In the sitting room, talking to your sister Mary and her husband.”

“Oh no. If she’s here, my other two sisters cannot be far away.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if they all come before dinnertime.”

“You’ll have to inform the housekeeper to open some rooms and have something on hand for dinner.”

“Me? Robert, I’m just a guest and—”

“No.” His hand closed over hers. “And that’s what I wish to talk to you about. Moira, I don’t want to be left out of your and Rowena’s lives.”

Her heart twisted. “You love her. I saw that when I found you together in the nursery at Aniston’s.”

“Yes. When I saw her and knew she was mine, my heart—” He shook his head. “I never knew what it meant to be a parent. I will never look at my own the same again.”

“It’s an eye-opening moment, isn’t it?”

“One that you faced alone. That will never happen again. Moira, I love you. I think I always have. Even when I knew you were lying about who you were, I couldn’t stay away from you. And now that I’ve met our daughter, I can’t go back to being alone.”

He took her hand and pulled her closer. “I bought this house thinking I might find a place where I belonged. But it’s nothing but empty stone walls without you and Rowena inside it.”

Tears stung her eyes. “But . . . it’s not always fun and exciting being a parent. Sometimes it’s difficult.”

“Then we’ll face the difficulties together.”

“And if you get bored?”

His lips quirked. “I don’t see that being a problem. But if it happens, I suppose you’ll just have to entertain me here in my boudoir.” His eyes twinkling wickedly, he kissed her fingers one by one.

“And if Rowena gets ill or—”

“—we run out of funds, or our family demands to move in with us, or any of the million things that could happen, then you and I will face them together.”