Page 7 of Kiss a Rake at Midnight

Three

Abedchamber at De la Chance

AN HOUR LATER

Neckbowed and arms folded, Fletcher stood beside MissKenney’s bed—or whatever her real name was—and listened to DoctorPhilbourne’s diagnosis.

“I cannot be positive, of course, without observing her longer. However, my initial examination suggests MissKenney is afflicted with the ague and is definitely malnourished and exhausted.” He removed his spectacles and, after tucking them into his coat pocket, pulled two brown bottles from his well-used leather case.

“This tincture will strengthen her blood. A teaspoon once daily.” He held up one bottle, then the other. “Give her a teaspoon of this every six hours. Administer hot compresses and poultices as needed when she is chilled, and cool sponge baths when her fever rises.”

Hepassed the bottles to Fletcher.

Thatmeant Fletcher would have to impose upon his female employees to take turns caring for her. They might refuse, and he wouldn’t blame them.

Hehadn’t hired them to play nurse to a deceptive slip of a woman.

WhenFletcher had risen this morning, serious concerns had niggled, but never would he have guessed the day’s events would bring him to standing over an invalid’s bed. By now, all his staff would know MissKenney had misled him. He, who took pride in being able to read people, couldn’t tell this woman wasn’t a teenage boy.

Howold was she?

Certainlynot as young as he’d first believed.

Onehand on his hip, Dr. Philbourne regarded the slender form, almost as pale as the sheets she lay upon. Her midnight braids, eyelashes, and eyebrows stood out in stark contrast to her transparent skin. The thick royal blue counterpane tucked beneath her arms almost hid her chest’s shallow but steady rise and fall.

“She’ll require complete bed rest for at least a week and as much food as she’ll eat, Mr. Westbrook.” The doctor glanced upward, a graying eyebrow quirked in either awe or disbelief. “You truly didn’t know she was a female?”

“No.” Fletcher shook his head.

Morefool him.

Notonly had MissKenney kept her hair hidden, but she’d also bound her small breasts. That explained why she wore that godawful oversized coat.

Regardless, now that Fletcher knew her sex, he could scarcely fathom he hadn’t detected it before. Her bone structure was too delicate to be male. Her voice, though sultry, was too high. Her innate graceful movements, which he’d taken as weakness in a lad, also betrayed her.

Shewas a superb actress; he’d give her that.

Whenwas the last time he felt such an utter, sodding fool?

ThoughFletcher presented a calm outward facade, inwardly he seethed with supremely controlled fury at her betrayal. Not only had MissNoName deceived him from day one about her gender, but she had been duplicitous about last night.

Theformer was exasperating—the latter unforgivable.

Thefact that her guilty conscience had prompted her to come clean meant nothing to him.

Fletcherwould not keep a traitor beneath his roof.

Except, he must for at least a week, but after that…

Evenas enraged as he was, he wasn’t cold-hearted enough to turn an ill woman onto the street. Not only her but her young sister and brother. He wasn’t an unfeeling monster.

Hadn’the already sent his men and motherly Mrs. Dough to retrieve Paddy and Kimber? Fletcher could hardly leave the children alone to fret about their sister’s whereabouts or send a note along, which would likely cause as much upset.

Besides, who would care for them while MissKenney convalesced?

No, the best solution and a way of assuring MissKenney cooperated fully was to have her sister and brother right here at De la Chance, particularly since Kimber was also ill.

Mrs. Dough told him that twice when Kimber and Paddy had come to the kitchen to collect their evening meal at MissKenney’s behest, Mrs. Dough had offered the hungry children a warm bun and glass of milk. On both occasions, MissKenney had worked late and fretted her siblings would go to bed with empty stomachs.