Page 51 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

The heat building inside her had nothing to do with a fever. Her fingers tingled as they trailed across the stubble on his cheek, her eyes widening as he crooked his head to one side, causing his skin to rub against her palm as if he were revelling in the feel of her hand upon his face.

She could hardly breathe as Jethro stepped closer. Was he going to embrace her?

No. His feet were as unsteady as if he were on board a ship, and his body swayed, lurching toward her, almost knocking her over.

“Jethro!” she exclaimed, as she struggled to hold up against her husband’s weight. “Put your arm around my shoulders.”

He stumbled about as he regained his balance, refusing her assistance.

“It’s all right. I must have stood up too quickly, and I was momentarily disoriented. The dizziness has passed now. I can manage.”

“No, you’re not all right,” Cassandra said, pulling on the bell rope.

When the footman arrived, she asked him to summon her husband’s valet.

“What are you doing?”

“I am sending you to bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re ill, Jethro.”

“I’m never ill.”

“I hate to contradict you, but you have a fever. Why else do you think you almost landed on top of me?”

“I told you, it was a momentary dizziness, nothing more.”

A tiny chuckle escaped at his obstinacy. She shook her head. “Denial will not change the facts.”

Jethro’s man appeared.

“Take your master up to his room, please, Wilkes. He is unwell.”

The valet took a single look at her husband and, hooking one of his arms around his shoulders, he supported an unwilling Jethro upstairs.

When Cassandra entered her husband’s chamber, Jethro was already in his nightshirt and tucked up in his bed. He looked strangely vulnerable—and very ill tempered.

“The doctor will be here shortly—and you may as well save yourself the effort of arguing. If you so much as think of getting up before the fever leaves you, I’ll get Wilkes to confiscate all your clothes.”

Jethro’s scowl deepened. “Is this what it has come to? You are determined to rule my household? First my drawing room and then me? I must be misremembering our vows. I thought it was you who promised to obey me, not the other way around.”

Cassandra bit back a smile. His petulance could not upset her now, because she had the upper hand. Wilkes was on her side, and her husband would stay in bed until he was better.

“I vowed to love you in sickness and in health—and as you are far from well, it would not be very loving of me to allow you to plough on and make yourself worse.”

A knock on the door announced the doctor’s arrival. Jethro almost growled at Mr Cooper, but let the man examine him.

To her surprise, Cassandra was not dismissed from the room, and the doctor gave a commentary on his examination, talking as much to her as to Jethro.

“Your husband has a high fever, Mrs Hunt. It is as well you sent for me when you did. I’ve seen men fall prey to long-term complications because they refused to stop at the early signs of illness. That’s what a fever is—a sign that your body is fighting sickness—and you need to give the body all the help you can. Now, let’s have a listen to your heart.”

Heat rushed to her face as the man pulled open Jethro’s nightshirt and laid his ear to her husband’s chest.

Cassandra made ready to run from the room if Mr Cooper attempted a more intimate examination, but fortunately, the doctor seemed satisfied.

He stood up and rubbed his chin. “I need to bleed your husband. Are you squeamish?”