The Governess Game (Girl Meets Duke #2)(56)

After three days, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She waited until the house went to sleep and then took the chance of slipping into his bedchamber. There would certainly be a maid or footman present, watching over him. On the way, she sifted through a dozen pitiful excuses. Mrs. Greeley was calling, or a new poultice had been prepared, or she, the governess, had been charged with keeping watch for an hour, for some unfathomable reason in a house full of servants.

To her relief, she found him alone.

Alex rushed to his bedside. “Chase.”

His eyelids fluttered, and he moaned through cracked lips.

“It’s me. It’s Alex.” She stroked the sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. Sweet Lord, he was still on fire with fever.

She took a cloth from the washstand, dampened it with tepid water, and dabbed his brow and neck.

“Alex.” He opened his reddened eyes, struggling to focus on her face. “Sorry, love. Can’t lick your cunny tonight. I’m sick.”

She laughed aloud, even as tears of relief came to her eyes. The real Chase was still in there somewhere.

“I know you’re sick, darling. It’s all right.” She kissed his forehead.

The door swung open behind her. Alex leapt to her feet and wheeled about.

Mr. Barrow entered the room.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she stammered. “The children have been asking how he’s coming along. I thought I’d—”

“Don’t worry. No excuses needed. I know about the two of you.”

She was briefly stunned. After a moment, she found her tongue. “I know about the two of you, too.”

“He told you?”

“I guessed.”

“I’m not surprised.” He pulled up a chair, and they sat next to one another at the bedside. “You’re clever. And he’s not very good at hiding it when he cares for someone.”

“No, he isn’t. And you’re too promising a solicitor to take this post without a compelling reason. No one would remain in Chase’s employ unless they were either desperate for work, or cared too much about him to leave.”

“So what’s keeping you here?” Her voice was quiet, but steady. “Desperation? Or love?”

“To be honest, I’ve been asking myself the same question. A bit of both, I think.”

Chase had lapsed back into a fitful sleep. His rattling breaths were an unsettling accompaniment to their conversation.

“He isn’t getting better, is he?” she asked.

Mr. Barrow exhaled heavily. “No. Much as I hate to even countenance the idea, the lawyer in me is cruelly pragmatic. We may need to prepare for the worst.”

A painful lump rose in Alex’s throat. “What would happen to the girls?”

“For the time, they’d pass back to the old duke’s guardianship, just like everything else attached to the estate. That is, until the next in line can be granted power of attorney.”

“They’ve been through so much already. To thrust them into the unknown again, just when they’ve begun to feel safe . . .”

“I’d do my best to advocate for them. But in the end, the decisions wouldn’t be mine.”

“I know. And it isn’t only being uprooted that would devastate them. They adore him.”

“As do we all.” He sighed. “God knows why. He’s such a horse’s arse.”

“He truly is.” A hot tear spilled down her cheek.

Mr. Barrow reached for her hand. “All this talk will likely come to nothing. He won’t go easily. At school, he was always scrapping with the other boys. Most of the time, in my defense. Mind, he wasn’t purely motivated by brotherly love. He copied all my schoolwork. Without me, he never would have passed an exam. But he knows how to put up a fight.”

“Right now he’s fighting with both hands tied behind his back.” Alex sat forward, determined. “We have to even the odds somehow. We can’t just sit by and watch.”

“All the usual remedies have failed. Bleeding, purging, sweating him out, starving the fever . . . Nothing the doctors have tried has helped.”

“Then we send the doctors away,” she said firmly. “Whatever we try, we can’t possibly do worse.”

He looked at her and nodded in agreement. “Very well.”

Alex drew to her feet and peeled the heavy wool blanket away from his body. “We have to bring down his fever first. Cool compresses, tepid baths. And he’s been sweating so much, he must be miserable with thirst. We should be spooning him all the broth and tea he’ll take.”

“I’ll ask Elinor about an aromatic poultice for his chest.”

“Elinor?”

“My wife. Perhaps you’ll meet her someday. The two of you would get on well.” He lifted Chase’s head so Alex could place a cool cloth beneath his neck. “Chase and I were born only three weeks apart, less than one year after his parents married. That alone should tell you how much my natural father valued his wedding vows.”

“That must have been difficult for you.”

“Not really. I had the better half of the bargain. My father stepped forward to marry my mother and raised me as his own, with love and principles. There wasn’t any affection in the Reynaud house.”