Page 47 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

He was mechanically buttering his toast when Mrs. Davis materialized at the doorway. “Her ladyship won’t be joining you this morning, My Lord,” the housekeeper announced with a slight bow.

Theodore paused, his knife suspended in mid-air. He looked up, a frown creasing his brow. “Pardon?” he asked, unsure he had heard her correctly.

“She is unwell and is resting in her chambers,” Mrs. Davis elaborated, her face lined with concern.

Before he could fully digest this news, a surge of worry propelled him from his seat. “Send for the family physician at once, Quentin,” he ordered the butler swiftly before exiting the morning room. His steps were quick as he bolted up the stairs, driven by a worry that was as profound as it was unsettling.

His hand circled around the door knob, and he was just about to push open the door when he remembered his manners and knocked first. It was a small gesture, but essential in maintaining the decorum expected of his station.

The door was promptly answered by her lady’s maid. Theodore's heart sank a bit further at the sight of her; if Agnes's personal maid was involved, it could only mean her condition was serious.

“My Lord,” the maid curtsied, stepping back to allow him entry. Her face was lined with worry, which did nothing to ease his growing concern.

“Her ladyship has a headache, My Lord,” the maid informed him, her voice laced with apprehension. “She did not get a wink of sleep last night, I’m afraid,” she added, wringing her hands slightly.

“You exaggerate, Evans,” came Agnes’s voice from the inner chamber, cutting through the tension in the air.

A wave of relief washed over Theodore at the sound of her voice, and he quickly moved towards her. As he entered her bedroom, he found Agnes propped up in bed. Although her voice hadcarried strength, her appearance told a different story. Her eyes were red and swollen, betraying her weariness.

“I did not tell you that I didn’t sleep, Evans,” Agnes said, correcting her maid with a gentle firmness.

“But you look it,” Theodore interjected, concern coloring his tone as he approached her bedside.

“Oh, but My Lady, I couldn’t help but hear the sounds from your bedchamber last night,” Evans said, the worry evident on her young face.

“Sounds?” Theodore echoed, his concern morphing into confusion. “What sounds?” he pressed, looking between Agnes and the maid.

“Evans!” Agnes’s voice carried a note of admonition, and the maid flinched slightly.

The room tensed as Theodore sensed that something was amiss. When he met Agnes's gaze, the look in her eyes only confirmed his suspicions.

He asked her lady’s maid to excuse them before perching on the covers beside his wife. The room quieted with her departure, leaving Theodore to focus solely on Agnes.

“What is wrong, Agnes?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Her nose was just as red as her eyes, and she looked more exhausted than he had ever seen her. The sight tugged at his heartstrings, adding urgency to his tone.

“I just have a slight headache, Theodore,” she dismissed, attempting a weak smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Mrs. Davis told me that,” he nodded, remembering the housekeeper's worried expression. “And I have asked for the Physician to be summoned,” he added, watching her reaction closely.

“Oh, it is not so serious that I must see a physician,” she began to argue, a hint of frustration seeping into her voice.

“Oh, but it is, dear,” Theodore insisted gently yet firmly.

“Theodore,” she implored, her voice softening, pleading for understanding.

“Agnes,” he returned with equal softness, yet with a resolve that brooked no argument. “You are sick. And you need an examination to know what is truly wrong,” he added, his concern deepening.

“I know what is wrong with me,” she argued, her voice growing slightly sharper with her mounting frustration.

“Then pray tell me so that I am assured of your health,” he urged, his brows knitting together in worry.

“Like I said. A slight headache, nothing more,” she responded firmly. “And slight headaches do not need a physician’s care,” she added stubbornly, her chin lifting defiantly.

“Well, aslightheadache will not have you looking this devastated, Agnes,” Theodore countered, his voice laced with a touch of exasperation.

“Devastated?” Her puffy eyes grew large with surprise and a touch of indignation. “Why, you are worse than Evans in your exaggeration, Theodore,” she retorted, her spirit showing despite her physical discomfort.

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