Page 79 of Wedded to the Cruel Duke

The sheer male arrogance in his tone sent a shudder running through her body. In any case, her legs had lost all strength and she could only hold onto his shoulders for dear life as he sped down the path back to their waiting carriage.

Charles, it would seem, had a surprisingly naughty side to him. She ducked her head into his shoulder to hide the smile that had begun to bloom on her face.

She decided she would like for it to come out more often.

The next day, Charles was unable to get up from bed.

Phoebe sighed as she dabbed a wet cloth to his heated forehead. It would seem that their escapade in the rain had resulted in his catching a cold. Fortunately for Phoebe, she had not been afflicted with the same malady. All the same, she took copious amounts of hot tea to ward off the chill herself.

“Phoebe?” he muttered weakly.

“I am right here, my dear husband,” she murmured.

He frowned. “You…should not be here. You might fall ill—”

“Shh…” she chided him gently. “I am not as foolish as to not have taken measures to prevent myself from getting ill.”

“So, you think that I am foolish for falling ill?”

She bit back a smile at his petulant tone. “Well, I did notsaythat.”

“You certainly thought it. I can tell.”

“Well, I did not—think that I mean,” she corrected herself as she dipped the cloth into a basin of water and wrung it out. “And you should not talk so much and focus on getting—”

Her words were cut off when he let out a pained grunt and clutched at his leg.

“Charles? Is something wrong?”

He shook his head vehemently, but she noted that his lips had turned rather pale. “Just… just an old injury. Nothing to worry about…”

Phoebe did not think it wasnothingto worry about. Sweat lined his brow and his face was twisted into a grimace that belied the pain he was feeling.

“Charles,” she murmured. “We should call for a doctor.”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “No doctor.”

“Then, how about some laudanum? It should help with the pain…”

“No laudanum either,” he insisted. His eyes flew open and he stared at her. “I have…seen men go mad from laudanum.No laudanum, Phoebe. Promise me.”

She nodded. “All right, my darling. No laudanum.”

“Call Huxley and O’Malley,” he told her. “They…will know what to do.”

“All right…”

Phoebe wrung out the wet cloth and returned it to the basin. She leaned in and kissed his flushed forehead one more time, before hurrying out of his bedchamber to search for Huxley and O’Malley.

She knew that Charles was suspicious of nearly everything to a fault, but she had not thought that it would be to a point that he would refuse a physician or any medication when he was clearly suffering.

Hopefully, O’Malley and Huxley will know what to do, she prayed.

Because if they could not help him, she did not know what else to do.

Phoebe sighed in relief as she watched her husband’s chest rise and fall in an even cadence. Even his fever had broken and after she had wiped him down with assistance from Huxley and O’Malley, he was now sleeping more comfortably in his great bed.

Whatever it was that O’Malley had given him, it had certainly worked and there was no need to summon a physician.