A Taste of Desire(74)

Thomas turned to Cartwright, who stood several feet behind him. “I believe Dr. Lawson has this in hand.” In other words, You’ve done your good deed for the day, so run along your way.

In the midst of removing an instrument from his bag, the physician angled a look over his shoulder, and followed Thomas’s gaze with a discreet clearing of the throat. “Um, if you gentlemen would give me some time alone to examine Lady Amelia.”

Like the crack of a whip, his statement made Thomas more aware. He was standing by her bedside like that of a concerned spouse. “Yes, of course. We will confer once you’re done with the examination.”

Thomas reluctantly trailed Cartwright from the room. Once in the hall, Cartwright immediately confronted him. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Now is neither the time nor the place,” Thomas responded in clipped tones. “Why don’t you go and wash off that stench of horse from you?”

The quick flaring of his nostrils was the only indication that Cartwright was perturbed. They stood eye to eye for several seconds before his friend abruptly pivoted and walked away, his tread muffled by the velvet-pile carpeting.

Thomas intended to return to the main floor to await Dr. Lawson after Cartwright left to go to his chamber at the opposite wing of the house. But instead, he found himself pacing the hall outside Amelia’s chamber.

The door opened twenty minutes later, and Dr. Lawson emerged. He started when he saw Thomas standing there.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Oh, Thomas, I was just on my way down.”

“What is wrong with Amelia?”

The familiarity of his address did not escape the physician’s notice as evidenced by the slight raise of his brow.

“I can see it’s nothing several days of bed rest won’t cure. I could hear no obstruction in her lungs, and her heart is strong. There is some swelling in the glands at her neck, but that I expected because of the fever.” Dr. Lawson switched his black physician’s bag to his other hand. “Now, if the fever hasn’t abated in the next two days, send for me again. I haven’t seen a reoccurrence of scarlet fever, but stranger things have happened.”

Thomas’s brows jumped. Scarlet fever? “What do you mean a reoccurrence?”

“Since her bout with it at the age of thirteen. Did she not tell you? She’s a lucky one as it appears she suffered no lasting effects. In the past year alone, I’ve lost four patients to the fever.”

Thomas’s panic must have shown on his face because Dr. Lawson added hastily, “Rest assured, that is not what’s ailing the young lady now. What she has is influenza of the stomach. She’s the tenth patient in the past two weeks. As I said, in two, three days at the very most, she should be back to normal.”

Thomas tried to convince himself his concern was normal. She was his friend’s daughter and an acquaintance—of sorts. Of course, her well-being would be of some concern to him.

Some concern? a voice inside of him mocked. In the past twenty minutes, his anxiety had taken on that of a husband awaiting the safe birth of his heir.

“Lady Amelia shall have the best of care.”

Dr. Lawson inclined his head in a nod and touched his hand to his neckcloth in what seemed an unconscious gesture. “In that, I have no doubt.” He pulled a watch piece from his jacket and gave it a quick glance. “I must be on my way. Call immediately if the young lady’s condition worsens. Good day, Thomas.” Tucking the watch back in his pocket, he started toward the stairs.

Good manners compelled Thomas to escort him to the door.

Without breaking stride or turning, Dr. Lawson said, “I’ve frequented this house for well over thirty years now. I can see myself out. I’m certain you’ll want to see for yourself that your guest is resting comfortably.”

Dr. Lawson needn’t have told him twice. Before the doctor could reach the stairs, Thomas was standing in front ofAmelia’s chamber pressing the door open with the tips of his fingers. The hinges gave a betraying creak.

The maid was sitting at Amelia’s side and angled her head when he entered. Thomas strode to the bed, keenly aware of the silence and the maid’s gaze following his progress. This was his residence, Amelia was in his care, so yes, he had every right to be here, to see to her welfare.

“Monsieur, mademoiselle iz sleeping,” the maid whispered.

Thomas halted at the side of the bed, his chest compressing at the sight of Amelia. Her head rested amid a froth of feather pillows. He took in the fan of dark, curling lashes against her fevered cheeks. With her features softened by sleep, she looked unbearably vulnerable. Beautiful.