An Affair So Right (Rebel Hearts #4)(30)

He blinked again, then opened his mouth to speak, and a croak came out. The first sound she’d heard from him that day. It may only be that he was clearing his throat, but it was a valiant attempt to communicate. “Well done, my lord. Wait. I shall fetch your physician immediately.”

Theodora flew out of the room, along the hall to where the physician had retired to take tea in an upstairs sitting room. She tapped on the door urgently and poked her head in. “Sir, he spoke.”

The door flew back so quickly she stumbled inside. Mr. Fletcher, a man of middle years and portly proportions, gaped. “Surely not.”

“He made a sound, but there was no sense to it,” she promised. “He tried.”

Fletcher strode past her, wiping his hands on a scrap of white cloth before tossing it carelessly over his shoulder. “This I must see with my own eyes to believe it.”

Fletcher examined Lord Templeton thoroughly. He checked his pulse, the feel of his hand, his face. He peeled back the man’s eyes and brought a candle close.

After a few minutes more, he straightened and faced Theodora. “There’s no change.”

“But there was. I swear. He did try to communicate.”

The man removed his glasses and polished them with a cloth from his pocket. “Are you sure you did not fall asleep and dream it?”

“No. How could I have imagined it when I was standing beside the bed?”

“Is there a problem?” Lord Maitland asked in a cold tone that made her jump nearly out of her skin for the harshness of it.

Her employer stood beyond the doorway, looking at Theodora rather than his parent and appearing every inch the bored aristocrat.

Theodora rushed toward him. “Your father spoke to me, or tried to.”

“I think it highly unlikely,” Fletcher protested.

Lord Maitland frowned, and the fa?ade cracked as his lips quirked briefly into a nearly missed smile. “If Miss Dalton heard him then it was undoubtedly real. She would not offer up false news to me.”

Theodora sagged, grateful for Lord Maitland’s belief in her even if he must wish to believe she was so very wrong about his father. “Thank you.”

He sighed. “However, it makes no difference. We’re leaving, my dear.”

She glanced at Templeton. The earl’s eyelids fluttered as if he recognized his son’s voice, but could not react to it more than with that effort. “Are you sure you don’t want to say something to him?”

“No, I do not.” Maitland grasped her elbow firmly and drew her out into the hall. “We have both wasted more time here than he deserves. I am going to take you home to your mother, and our lives will return to the way they were always meant to be. The countess agrees that lingering is quite unnecessary.”

She glanced back at the man in the bed. Lord Templeton was still again, eyes staring across the room with no life in them whatsoever. Perhaps she had imagined an improvement. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. We will leave the earl in Mr. Fletcher’s capable hands. A little more electricity in him might do the trick,” he muttered.

Lord Maitland escorted her downstairs without another word. She still believed Lord Maitland might feel better by speaking with his tormenter one last time but she had to admit she was very much out of her depth with him right now. He led her down to where the butler waited with hats and gloves at the ready.

“Thank you, Mr. Falstaff,” she murmured to the servant whom she’d come to know a little during the day. He was a kind man who had worked for the family for decades.

“You’re welcome, Miss Dalton.”

“Send word when his condition changes for the worst,” Maitland asked before leading her out of the house and down to his carriage.

Her employer appeared made of iron; he was utterly rigid, and she wished there was something she could do to improve his mood.

Theodora was utterly drained and feeling very low, and all for the man who’d shown her so much kindness and compassion in her time of need. She felt so very bad for Lord Maitland. Angry on his behalf, too. What a terrible way to discover your lover had thrown you over. How humiliated he must feel. She could not understand why Adele Blakely had not been more devoted to him. Theodora would have been, if given a choice.

“My parents were not a love match,” Lord Maitland said suddenly, shifting awkwardly on the bench at her side. “How could they be?”

“Lady Templeton is an exceptional woman,” she murmured softly. After the initial outburst in the privacy of her bedchamber, the countess had mellowed and shown unexpected strength of character in the face of a terrible situation. Theodora had been quite impressed with the older woman’s composure during her brief reports. “I don’t know any other lady who would have held to such self-possession under the circumstances.”

Lord Maitland’s hand ghosted over hers where it rested on the edge of the carriage bench seat, but he clasped his hands between his knees and leaned forward. “I want to scream,” he confessed.

“Don’t,” she urged, concerned but full of understanding for his reaction. Men did not normally express their emotions loudly. It startled her that he was probably holding on to his temper by a mere thread. No wonder he was anxious to escape to his own home. Theodora felt very protective of him. “Not yet. There are too many ears around us now.”