A Taste of Desire(77)
“I am fine. I’m sure I just need some more rest.” And I need you to leave so that I may regain my senses … my sanity.
“Then I will leave you now.” At the softly spoken words, Thomas stood, the wood of the bed frame creaking faintly at the removal of his weight. His face was immediately cast in shadow, the candle’s light illuminating the dark blond bristle of his jaw.
“I will see you in the morning.” His gaze seemed to linger on her before he turned and quit the chamber, closing the door softly behind him.
Don’t go, hovered on her lips long after he’d gone.
Chapter 20
Thomas was relieved Amelia’s fever lasted only twenty-four hours. But, despite its brevity, he instructed her to remain in bed until he determined she was fully recovered. She could fret and moan about it all she wanted—which she did. His position didn’t waver.
In addition to her maid, who cosseted her like a newborn, Thomas instructed two of his servants to cater to Amelia’s every need and ensure her every comfort. He himself, made it his duty to check on her twice during the day—visits he limited to the times he knew she was asleep.
By the third day of her confinement, and much to Thomas’s satisfaction, she did appear restored to full health. Only then did he finally grant her leave to venture beyond her bedchamber walls. And he, like a drunkard resisting the silent call of a bottle of alcohol, spent the better part of the day down at the stables with his latest purchase, a majestic grey thoroughbred.
That evening, she presented herself at the dining hall looking vibrant and fetching in a lavender dress and a neckline whose appeal lay in what remained hidden rather than what it revealed. Thomas had to physically steel himself from going to her and touching her, as he mentally stripped her down to bare skin and pink nipples.
Cartwright, who should have departed Devon the day before but had insisted on staying until he was certain of Amelia’s full recovery, brightened noticeably at her appearance. Thomas scowled, and his annoyance with his friend sparked anew.
“Good evening, Miss Foxworth. My lords. I hope you’ll forgive my tardiness.” She sent them a warm, all-encompassing smile.
Cartwright hastily came to his feet. Thomas belatedly followed. The effervescent glow about her that cast so many women in her shadow had unsettled him several moments too long.
She laughed lightly. “Oh please, my lords, do not stand on ceremony on my behalf.” The second footman followed her dutifully to the table to seat her in the empty chair beside Cartwright.
“I didn’t think you would be up to joining us for supper this evening,” Thomas said as he wondered what their reaction would be if he insisted she and Cartwright exchange places to have her sit at his elbow.
After she settled in, he and Cartwright resumed their seats. “And as I told you this morning, I’m perfectly well. If you hadn’t been so stubborn, I would have been up and about yesterday.” She treated him to a teasing look, something she’d never done before.
“I’m simply relieved to see you looking so well,” Camille said with a smile.
Amelia smiled in return, and not the kind of smile generally reserved for Thomas. This one held no trace of ire or mockery, just pearl-white teeth shown in contrast against succulent pink lips. Thomas’s loins began a painful and pleasurable throb.
“I’d say looking well is a vast understatement. In my opinion, Lady Amelia looks radiantly stunning. The picture of beauty, health, and prosperity.”
Thomas shot a look at his friend. Radiantly stunning? Beauty, health, and prosperity? Good Lord, with only a little more wax, his friend could single-handedly seal all the envelopes in London. Just how bloody cozy had they become during their time together? It appeared it had been time enough to turn Cartwright into not only her protector but a doting suitor. Thomas was revolted by the thought.
Amelia made a sound like the faded remnants of a full-bodied laugh. “Truly, Lord Alex, you gift me with far more admirable attributes than I deserve.”
Thomas’s gaze darted to her. By God, was she actually falling prey to that balderdash? “Yes, don’t you think you’re plying it on rather thick?” Thomas said, unable to keep the sardonic note from his voice.
Cartwright merely laughed. “I’m a second son. I haven’t the luxury of subtlety.”
Amelia dipped her chin to hide a smile. Lord Alex was witty and charming beyond words. Thomas, on the other hand, looked anything but pleased. He wasn’t scowling—at least not anymore—but his face was set in such a mask that anything as beguiling as a smile would fall victim to a cold, hard death.