Page 47 of A Duke's Overlooked Spinster
“Thank you,” Sarah whispered.
She walked slowly up the hallway. She had no idea where the duke’s son’s room was, but she could only guess that his own must be close by. Her cheeks flushed. She walked on down the hallway, trying to decide whether she should continue or go back to her room and wait. She was about to go back when a door opened.
“Miss Brooke,” the duke said, seeing her. “I am so glad you are here. I do not know what to do. He seems to be sleeping?”
Sarah nodded and walked to the door. The duke did not hesitate to let her in, and Sarah flushed hotly as she realized that she was in his chamber. She gazed at the door opposite, trying to ignore the bed and his clothes from the previous night in a pile on the chair. The whole room felt like him, smelled of him. She walked resolutely to the door, and he opened it, conducting her hastily through what looked like a small parlor and into another room.
“Henry?” Sarah whispered. She knelt down beside the bed. He was lying on it, still deathly pale. She took his hand and Buttons whimpered and wriggled onto the bed. She did not think to stop him, and he raced across the covers to Henry’s face. He licked his cheek frantically, his little body rocking from side to side.Sarah watched, her heart twisting in pain for the little puppy whose best efforts seemed to be unrewarded. His mute need for Henry to wake up echoed how she felt. She could not bear to see harm come to the little boy. A tear ran down her cheek. She had managed to be so brave, but the puppy’s actions gave voice to her own feelings, giving her the courage to express them. As she started to cry, Henry’s eyelids fluttered, and he groaned.
“Henry!” Sarah shouted. The duke shouted the same and Buttons turned briefly to them, and then exploded into a riot of licking, nibbling and jumping, his delight evident in every part of his tiny body from his flapping ears to his paddling tail.
Henry’s eyes fluttered open. The duke let out a shout of joy and took the boy’s hand in his own, kneeling beside Sarah.
“Son. Henry. Are you well? Can you hear us? You passed out.”
“Papa...” Henry whispered. Sarah winced at the sound of his voice, which was small and soft. His hand had been icy, and she reached to touch his brow.
“Mama?” Henry whispered. Sarah froze. She looked round at the duke. He looked back at her. His blue eyes were tense at the edges but seemed calmer than she felt. She took a deep breath.
“Shh, Henry,” she said softly. She could neither confirm nor refute what he believed he was seeing.
“Mama. I’m sleepy,” he whispered.
“Shh,” Sarah repeated, dusting his hair back from his brow. His forehead was burning with heat. She looked around for a bell-rope, feeling a desperate need for the water she had asked Mrs. Emsley to bring.
As she did so, a knock sounded at the outer door.
“Enter,” the duke called.
“Your Grace, a physician has been summoned,” Mrs. Emsley said, appearing with a pitcher of water. “And Miss Brooke ordered a bath to be drawn. Here is some water,” she added,handing the tray with the water to Sarah. Sarah nodded gratefully.
“Thank you.”
“I cannot thank you enough,” the duke breathed to both Sarah and Mrs. Emsley.
Sarah looked away. Her heart was full of joy for Henry awaking, but she was also certain that she was correct. The little boy had a bad fever.
“Henry,” she said, ignoring the duke and Mrs. Emsley, bending down to the child and the puppy, who had nestled into Henry’s arms. “Do you feel sick?”
“My head hurts,” Henry said. “What happened?” His voice was strained, and Sarah held his hand, realizing how frightened he was. “It went dark. How did I get here in bed?”
“You lost consciousness. I think you need some water. Can you drink some water?” she added, reaching for the pitcher and pouring a cup of water. It was not too cold, and she was grateful for that. She held it to his lips. He sipped at it uncertainly, then took a bigger gulp. Sarah smiled in relief as Henry drank thirstily, then pushed the cup away, falling listlessly back onto the pillow.
“I’m tired,” he told her softly. “Why am I so tired?”
“You have a fever,” Sarah told him gently, resting her hand on his forehead. It was hot. “But we can make you better. The physician will be here soon.” She hoped he would. The strain of being alone with the duke, of caring for Henry with no idea if he knew who she was or not, was strong.
“Good.” Henry sighed and his hand relaxed a little in hers. Buttons had settled down beside Henry on the pillow and seemed disinclined to move. Sarah sat where she was, holding Henry’s hand. He seemed to sleep, his breath shifting into the smoother rhythms of rest. Sarah wiped his brow again.
“Thank you,” the duke began. Sarah swallowed hard. Guilt coursed through her. She felt like an imposter—she did not know if Henry still mistook her for his mother because his mind was wandering in the confusion of high fever. What would the duke think, seeing her take the place of his beloved Elizabeth?
“I did not...” she began, about to explain that she did not intend to pretend. A knock sounded at the door and the physician entered.
“Your Grace, I am Physician Barnbrook. Um...my lady?” His eyes were wide when they rested on Sarah, and then widened still further at the sight of the puppy on Henry’s bed.
“I am Miss Brooke. I am helping to care for Henry,” Sarah said smoothly, ignoring his apparent shock. “And that is Buttons, and he will stay with Henry,” she added firmly, shooting a glance at the man that brooked no argument.
Henry’s eyes fluttered at the sound of raised voices. Buttons stirred on the pillow. “Buttons,” Henry whispered, reaching for the little dog. Buttons rested his head on Henry’s hand and licked it, then went back to sleep.
