Page 84 of Wicked Rivals
Ash seized at the offer. He’d feel much better if he could keep an eye on his brother.
“Who do you normally call for?” Charles ordered a footman to fetch him his coat and horse. The footman nodded and vanished.
“Dr. Finchley. He’s about five miles south on the main road past the river. He has a little country house visible from the road.”
“Right.” Charles waved his hand at Ashton. “Go and see to Rafe.”
“Thank you,” Ashton called out as he ran back up the stairs. He’d admonish his friend for speaking about Rosalind when he was less worried about his brother.
He returned to Rafe’s room again and pulled the bell cord to summon Rafe’s valet. While he waited, he pulled up a chair beside his brother’s bed and touched his forehead again. Half an hour passed in quiet silence as Ashton tended to his brother. Rafe lay still, his breathing slightly labored.
“Rafe,” he said gently. “Charles has gone for the doctor.”
Rafe’s eyes opened and he stared at Ash, but his eyes were murky blue pools.
“Sorry, Ash.” He coughed, his nose a little redder now. “I didn’t want to ruin dinner. I’ll be better tomorrow.” Even as he said this, his teeth chattered.
“You’d better be. I cannot have you distressing Joanna or Mother. First you turn to robbery, and now you’re ill.” Ash rose from the chair and went over to the washbasin and dampened a cloth in the water. When he came back, he saw Rafe watching him.
“It was my first. I swear to you.”
Ashton leaned over and placed the cool wet cloth across Rafe’s brow. His younger brother shivered.
“Too cold,” Rafe muttered. “Take it off.”
“Rafe, you’re burning up.” He kept the cloth on. “And what did you mean, your first?”
“The coach, it was my first…robbery.”
Ashton was torn between relief and frustration. He was relieved Rafe had only committed one such act, but he was frustrated that Rafe had thought it was wise to rob anyone at all.
“Why did you do it, you daft fool?” He kept the cloth on Rafe’s head even when his brother shook and tried to brush it off.
Rafe exhaled, the sound slightly labored. “Because you remind me how much of a burden I am. Paying my debts, covering my mistakes and still managing to take care of Mother and Joanna. I thought if I could live on my own…”
Ashton growled. “I’d rather keep paying your debts than have you robbing coaches.”
“I suppose I won’t be doing much of that anymore, seeing as how your future wife shot me. Puts a man off his game when he fears he’ll face bullets, especially from ladies.” Rafe’s smile was more of a wince.
“You’re lucky the storm hindered her aim. She had every intention of killing you,” Ashton chuckled, but he couldn’t shake his fears for Rafe. His brother’s body wouldn’t stop trembling.
“Damned good choice in a wife. You had to find a bloodthirsty wench.” Rafe licked his lips. “Could you fetch me some water?”
“Of course.” Ashton stood and exited the room, nearly running into his brother’s valet, who was accompanied by Charles and the doctor.
Ashton shook the older man’s hand. “Thank you, Dr. Finchley. I apologize for the late hour.”
Dr. Finchley pushed his spectacles up. “Seems your brother is having a difficult week.”
Ashton grunted. “It would appear so. I’ll fetch him some fresh water.”
The doctor nodded. “Not a problem. I’ll just take a look at him.” He went inside, leaving Charles and Ashton outside.
“How is he?” Charles asked.
Ashton dragged his hands through his hair. “Not good. I’ve never seen him like this.”
Charles reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “What can I do to help?”
