Page 18 of Surrender to the Earl (Brides of Redemption #2)

A fter a detour to the kitchen to discuss the earl’s presence at luncheon with Mrs. Sanford, Audrey went back upstairs to see what Molly was up to. She said her name softly, wondering if the maid was still asleep.

In a groggy voice, Molly answered, “I’m awake, miss.”

“You don’t sound any better,” she said with concern, following her voice. She found Molly curled up in the window seat.

“I just don’t seem to have any gumption today,” the maid murmured.

Audrey reached out with the back of her hand, touched Molly’s arm, then skimmed up to her face.

“You have a fever,” she said in a brisk voice, although she felt a moment of panic. Molly never got sick.

“No, that can’t be,” she insisted weakly. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be fine.”

“Come lie down on my bed. Later, we can have Francis help you to your room.”

“The cot in your dressing room would be?—”

“My bed.”

She was shocked how slowly Molly moved, and she seemed to collapse when they’d reached the bed.

Audrey felt a twist of fear deep inside.

She was always afraid of fever and didn’t want her friend to suffer as she had, those hot, achy days that had blended into one long nightmare she still remembered though eighteen years had passed.

“You had letters you wanted me to write,” Molly said, as Audrey tucked blankets around her. “I could do it from here.”

She tsked as she shook her head. “That’s not important right now. You need to conserve your strength.”

“Then let me rest, and you go be with your lord.”

Audrey grimaced at that, remembering that she’d been off flirting while Molly was feeling ill. She brought her a pitcher of water and poured her a cup to drink.

“Have you seen him, miss?” Molly finally asked.

“Seen him?” Audrey echoed, already making plans to talk to Mrs. Sanford about sending for a doctor. Was Molly hallucinating?

“Like you did with me. Surely he wouldn’t mind if you touched his face.”

Audrey felt the swiftness of memory, his cheek touching hers. “I—I couldn’t impose like that.”

“You’ll be touching more than his face,” Molly said, giving a weak chuckle.

“You’re a romantic,” Audrey said, trying to keep her voice light. “Now lie here and sleep while I send for the doctor.”

“Surely that’s too much trouble. Just let me sleep.”

And then she did, just drifted right off, which frightened Audrey even more. Molly was one of those women who didn’t need a lot of sleep, went to bed after Audrey and was up before dawn. She touched Molly’s burning face again.

“Stay strong, my dear,” she whispered.

She hurried downstairs as quickly as she could, holding tightly to the banister.

“What’s wrong?”

She almost stumbled on the last step at Robert’s question. He caught her arm to steady her.

“Molly has a fever, and she’s never sick. I must talk to Mrs. Sanford about the local doctor. Robert—maybe you should go before you succumb, too.”

“It’s a fever, Audrey,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’ve been exposed to far worse in the East. I’ll stay and help.”

Molly rang for Mrs. Sanford. The housekeeper sent her son off to the village for Dr. Ascham, who ended up being a young man working with his father.

All he recommended was that they bathe her with cold water when the fever was at its worst, and offered small draughts of opium if she experienced any pain.

Audrey was frustrated that he could do no more.

To her surprise, Mrs. Sanford insisted Audrey eat the luncheon she’d skipped, and that she’d stay with Molly. The maid was sleeping, so that was the only reason Audrey agreed.

Robert greeted her again as she descended to the entrance hall. “How is Molly? The doctor only said there was little he could do to help her improve.”

Audrey had put the earl to the back of her mind, but his concern made her feel better—and then teary-eyed.

She cleared her throat and willed herself not to cry.

“We just have to wait out the fever. Molly insists she’ll be fine.

But as you can imagine, I don’t like the thought of anyone having a fever. ”

“Of course not,” he murmured, taking her hand in his.

She allowed the comfort for a moment, then said, “Have you eaten?”

“I decided to wait for you.”

“Then come, we’ll tell Francis we’re ready to be served.”

She wasn’t all that hungry, but it gave her something to do. And Robert had ridden over just to see her—he needed a good meal.

But when she found herself being unusually silent, she realized she could not be discouraged. There was too much to do—and Molly wouldn’t be able to help.

As if reading her mind, Robert said, “Molly usually assists you almost as a secretary, does she not?”

They were eating roast venison, and Audrey took a determined bite. “Yes, she does. And she’ll worry about that more than she’ll concentrate on getting better. I’ll be fine.” And she was not about to ask Mrs. Sanford for assistance—the woman seemed to have trouble completing her own tasks.

“Perhaps I can be of help,” Robert offered.

“That is very nice, but I certainly can’t?—”

“Why not? I am not needed at my own home, and you can’t tell me to go back to London. It’s not even the Season. You’ll be doing me a favor. It’s been so long since I was involved in the daily workings of an estate. We can learn all about it together.”

He took her hand again, and she almost flinched at the touch of his bare skin on hers.

“Let me be of help to you.”

Because he felt sorry for her? she wondered. After all, she was Blake’s poor, blind widow.

Or was he just a man who had no family left, nothing to return home to?

“That is a kind offer,” she said at last. “I will accept.”

He squeezed her hand and released her, saying briskly. “Good. We will accomplish much together.”

She knew her own smile was weak but couldn’t help it. Hours together every day, just when she was trying to make it look like their engagement would eventually end?

There was no help for it. She had to learn the workings of her new estate, and she needed eyes to help her.

She’d fought the feeling of dependency so long that it was frustrating to accept it once again.

She was used to moving fluidly, confidently, through her home, but every room in Rose Cottage seemed to have tables in odd places.

As for the people, she was already working on memorizing the sound of their footsteps—that would help her know who was around her.

And Robert? His presence was a temporary convenience until both she and Molly were back on their feet.

She heard the footsteps before anyone even spoke. It was surely Evelyn.

“Mrs. Blake?”

And she’d been right. Feeling a touch more confident, she said, “Yes?”

“The land agent, Mr. Drayton, has arrived. He says you sent for him?”

Audrey turned toward Robert. “I requested a meeting. I didn’t realize he’d come so quickly. I have so many questions about the estate.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She heard the determination, even eagerness in his voice. She smiled and did her best to put her concern for Molly aside for the moment. “I’m ready.”

Robert left before dinner, almost as if he were just a neighbor who kept dropping in.

Audrey wasn’t sad this time, now that she knew he planned to return.

Oh, what did that say about the state of her attachment to him?

she asked herself, even as she slowly climbed the stairs to visit Molly in the servants’ quarters in the attics.

She had to admit, Robert had had questions for the land agent that she would never have thought of—how many sheep did they plan to drive to market this month, the state of the recent grain harvest, the strategy for the spring planting.

They hadn’t even begun to discuss tenants, but that could wait for another time.

Mr. Drayton had seemed genial enough, although a bit too glad to have the Earl of Knightsbridge to explain things to.

Audrey would be patient and allow him to become used to dealing with a woman.

For now, Robert was the bridge between her and the people who worked for her.

And soon she wouldn’t need that bridge anymore. She’d be her own … island.

A pathetic comparison, she thought, even as she reached the top floor. To her surprise, when she went to knock on Molly’s door, it was already open.

“Hello?” she said warily. “Molly?”

“She’s asleep,” said a young man.

“Oh, Francis, I didn’t realize …” Her voice trailed off in confusion.

“I offered to sit with Molly while me mum prepared dinner. She’s been asleep the whole time.”

“That was very nice of you.” Audrey moved farther into the room, heard the young man step to the side as she approached the bed.

She laid a hand on Molly’s forehead and winced.

“Still so hot,” she murmured. “Please tell your mother to send up a dinner tray to me here when it’s ready, and also some ice from the icehouse. ”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The ice and some broth for Molly’s benefit arrived quickly, but a dinner tray never did. Audrey spent an hour using cooling cloths on Molly’s forehead, neck, and arms, over and over again. She wasn’t even hungry by the time she felt she’d done all she could.

Molly woke briefly, took a few sips of broth, but was never quite herself. It was frightening not to hear her amusing comments about whatever state Audrey was in.

When someone knocked on the door and stepped inside without introducing themselves, Audrey was too weary to pay attention to footsteps. Sighing, she said, “Yes?”

“Me mum sent me to sit with Molly, ma’am,” Evelyn said. “You should rest.”

“Thank you.” Whatever Audrey had to say about the servants, she could not doubt their kindness toward her maid. “I’ll return in a while.”