Loving the Marquess (19 page)

“The doctor is with him now, but the attack is severe. He
isn’t sure…”

Catherine had been silent until that moment, but when Lady
Overlea couldn’t continue, she stepped in. “They’re not sure if Nicholas will
survive the day.”

Louisa gasped. Her legs threatened to give way and Kerrick
braced an arm around her waist to steady her. No, she refused to believe it.
She’d seen Nicholas last night and he’d looked so healthy.

“Where is he now?”

“He was moved to his bedroom,” Catherine said.

Louisa spun around and hurried back upstairs. Kerrick
followed in silence, something for which she was grateful. All she could think
about in that moment was her husband. When she reached his rooms she didn’t
bother to knock and the scene that met her on the other side of the door almost
made her heart stop.

Nicholas lay still in his bed, his skin pale as death. The
bed sheets were turned down to his waist and leeches had been administered to
his torso, dark blots that stood out in stark relief against his too-white
skin. Her gaze flew to the doctor, who had paused at her interruption. She
couldn’t tell if he were applying yet another leech or removing the ones that
had already started to fall off, glutted on her husband’s blood.

“How is he?” She was almost afraid to ask the question.

The doctor, a small man with graying hair, turned away from
her and placed another leech on Nicholas’s body.

“Not well. You shouldn’t be here.”

She watched as he reached into a jar and removed yet another
worm. Anger rose within her. Nicholas looked to be on the point of death and
this doctor was doing his best to drain him of his remaining blood.

“That will be enough,” she said.

He didn’t stop. “You shouldn’t be here. Women are always
squeamish at this sight.” He placed the leech on her husband’s chest.

Louisa saw red. Without a word, she marched up to the doctor
and removed the jar of leeches from his hands. Surprised, he could only stare
at her in stunned silence.

“I said that will be enough.”

The man sputtered for a moment before drawing himself up.
“And who are you to give me orders?”

Louisa met his outraged gaze squarely.

“I am the Marchioness of Overlea. Since my husband is too
ill to speak, I will do it for him. You are dismissed.”

She held out the jar of leeches for him to take. He stared
at her, his face red with indignation, but when she didn’t back down he jerked
the jar away from her and secured the lid. Without another word or glance in
her direction, he dropped the jar into his black physician’s bag and stalked
out of the room. It was only then that Louisa noticed Kerrick and her sister
had followed her into Nicholas’s bedroom and witnessed the entire scene.

“Are you sure about this?” Kerrick asked.

“Yes. I’ve seen him through two such episodes and he
recovered both times with his blood intact.”

“But the doctor—”

“Lord Kerrick,” she said, interrupting him, “I am familiar
with doctors. I saw them bleed my father almost to death during his illness. He
never improved. All the bleedings did was weaken him further. Nicholas cannot
afford to have the same thing happen to him. Not if he is going to fight this
illness.”

She turned back to the bed. Gorged on blood, a few more
leeches had fallen away. She was more concerned, however, about the ones that
were still attached, slowly draining her husband.

Kerrick moved to stand on the other side of the bed. “I’ve
heard salt will make them fall off.”

Louisa shook her head. “They will, but before they fall off
they regurgitate back into the wound.”

Kerrick raised a brow. “How do you know that?”

“I tried it with my father and the wounds festered. I did, though,
watch to see how the doctor removed them before they fell off on their own.”
She turned to Catherine. “Fetch me the washbasin,” she said, her tone brisk.

When Catherine returned with it, she placed it on his
bedside table.

“A seal is created when the sucker attaches to the body. You
must break that seal from both ends of the leech before you remove it.”

She flicked her finger along the small side of the leech,
using her nail to break the seal, then sweeping aside the sucker. She did the
same on the larger side of the leech and gave a low sound of triumph when the
leech came away cleanly. She dropped the leech into the washbasin and moved on
to the next one.

Kerrick copied her actions, the two working quickly to
remove the rest of the creatures. When the last one was removed, Louisa stared
down at her husband. He was so pale, his breathing so shallow, she couldn’t be
sure he still lived. Suddenly afraid, she leaned over him, her face turned so
her cheek hovered over his mouth. She exhaled with relief when she felt his
soft exhalation.

“I need to clean him,” she said. Catherine left to fetch
another washbasin from Louisa’s bedroom. When she returned, Louisa made quick
work of cleaning the trail of blood smears from her husband’s torso. The task
soothed her, made her feel that she was actually helping him rather than just
standing by, powerless. A few of the wounds made by the leeches continued to
trickle blood. Fortunately, Catherine had anticipated the need for bandages and
had called for some to be brought up while Louisa washed Nicholas.

When the last of the blood had been washed away and the
small wounds bandaged, Louisa looked up and met Kerrick’s gaze across the bed.

“I’ll stay with him in case he needs anything. Can you see
what you can do to soothe Lady Overlea?”

“What happens now?” Kerrick asked. She could see his genuine
concern in the grim set of his jaw.

“Now we wait and hope that he has enough strength to pull
through. I don’t know how much blood he lost.” She looked down at her husband.
“Nicholas is a strong man, and despite these episodes, he is healthy in every
other way. He will pull though.”

Kerrick nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?” Catherine asked.

Louisa shook her head. “Stay with Lady Overlea. Try to put
her mind at rest. She has already lost a son and a grandson. I imagine she is
beside herself with worry.”

Catherine gave her a quick hug before leaving with Kerrick.
After they were gone, Louisa pulled a chair to Nicholas’s bedside and settled
in to wait.

* * *
* *

He was afraid. This was no doubt the end and he had left a
botched affair behind him. Edward would be the next Marquess of Overlea.

He thought about Louisa. Tried to hold onto her face, to
remember the feel of her in his arms, but it was all starting to fade away.

Time passed and he wondered if he was already dead and just
unaware of it. He seemed to be floating in a dark void, his strength slowing
ebbing from him. At one point he heard voices, but they were hushed and he
could not make out what was being said. Small stings jabbed at him everywhere
and he knew this was the end. He was in hell. He gave himself over completely.
He had so little strength left.

He was confused at first when the sensation of many small
mouths drawing from his body started to fade. Perhaps it was only a momentary
respite before the pain worsened. His confusion increased when the cool touch
of a washcloth swept over his body. And then he could smell her. Louisa. He
breathed in deeply, taking comfort from the thought she was near. And then
that, too, was gone.

Bereft, he drifted further.

He didn’t know how long he faded in and out before he began
to realize he wasn’t dead. Opening his eyes, he blinked a few times to bring
his sight into focus and exhaled a sigh of relief when he realized he was in
his room. In his bed.

He wasn’t alone. He turned his head to the right and his
eyesight swam again momentarily.

Louisa.

She was sleeping upright in an armchair by his bedside. He
stared at her, relishing the opportunity to take her in. Normally he tried to avoid
looking at her or thinking about her.

The chair was winged and she’d settled into one of the
corners. Her pale gold hair had started to escape its pins and several long
tendrils framed the pale oval of her face. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep,
her lips parted.

He remembered all too well the feel of her mouth under his.
He’d been angry when he discovered the note Kerrick had left for her. It was a
stupid emotion and one he didn’t fully understand. It had been his idea, after
all, to have Kerrick father his future heir. He had promoted the idea to both
parties and been anxious for their agreement. Why, then, had it infuriated him
to discover the two of them had arranged to meet after everyone else had gone
to bed? He should have been relieved.

At the time, however, it had seemed like a betrayal. He told
himself that if they had come to him and revealed they’d agreed to his proposal
he wouldn’t have felt so deceived. The fact that neither of them would speak to
him about their acceptance and that they were trying to arrange secret meetings
behind his back had him wondering if there was more to the meetings than the
practical arrangement he had proposed.

Watching the two of them laughing over dinner, Kerrick
flirting openly with his wife, he’d realized it would probably be very easy for
Louisa to fall in love with his friend. And why shouldn’t she? Her husband had
been a cold, unfeeling bastard to her. It would only make sense for her to seek
solace from the one man who seemed only too eager to offer it.

When he’d discovered the note, he’d thought Kerrick was
trying to steal his wife away from him. He was aware of the absurdity of the
situation and that it was all of his own making. Well, not all of it. Most of
it stemmed from the cursed illness he had inherited from his father. The one
that had caused him to drive his carriage off the road, killing both himself
and Nicholas’s mother.

Watching Louisa now, seemingly at peace as she slept,
Nicholas was painfully aware of just how much he wanted her for himself. The
thought of her and Kerrick together had grown hateful to him.

Nicholas made a sound of disgust at his melancholy
meanderings and shifted so he could get out of bed. He supposed he shouldn’t
have been surprised to find that he couldn’t manage it on his own.

“Nicholas!” Louisa exclaimed, coming fully awake and bending
over his prostrate form. “You’re awake.”

The enormous smile that crossed her face dazzled him for a
moment and he found that he had to look away to clear his thoughts.

“Of course I’m awake,” he said. “Why the hell can’t I sit
up?” He struggled to raise himself onto his elbows.

Louisa’s smile dimmed a little and he regretted his curt
tone.

“You’ve been abed for two days and you were bled by your
doctor. Your body needs time to regain its strength.”

He ceased his struggle to sit up and sank back down onto the
bed. Two days? He’d never had an episode last that long.

She must have seen his concern, for she hastened to add, “I
fear your doctor was overzealous in performing his duty and I sent him away
when I saw what he was doing.”

Surprised, he could only stare at her for several moments
before finding his voice. “You sent him away?”

“He was bleeding you,” she said, a note of anger creeping
into her voice.

“That is what all doctors do when they don’t know what else
to do.”

“I know. I watched them do it time and again to my father.
And each time he grew weaker. I should have stopped them sooner. In the end, he
didn’t have enough strength left to fight to live.” Her eyes blazed with
passionate indignation as her gaze met his. “I will not allow them to do that
to you. To drain you until you, too, no longer have the strength to fight your
illness.”

He remembered then his certainty that he’d been in hell.
Remembered the feeling of tiny creatures attaching to his body and drinking
from him. He also remembered their abrupt removal and the feel of her hands on
his body as she’d cleaned him afterward. Her scent when she’d leaned over him
again and again, no doubt checking to see whether he was still alive. He also
remembered that she’d spoken to him throughout his ordeal, though he couldn’t
remember now what she’d said.

He gazed at her in wonder, the passionate intensity of her
gaze striking a chord deep within him. He realized then that he was already
lost. He was in love with her.

He looked away, hating his weakness. She’d seen him like
this far too many times for his own liking. And now the episodes were
worsening. He wondered how much longer it would be before they killed him. The
irony of his situation was not lost on him. He’d never wanted to be heir and
had always been grateful he was born a second son. He’d also never wanted to
marry, and he certainly had never thought himself such a romantic fool as to
fall in love. Now here he was, the Marquess of Overlea, and in love with his
wife. And he would never live long enough to enjoy either one.

“You need to eat. I’ll send for something light.” She moved
to the bellpull to summon a servant.

He spoke without looking at her.

“Thank you for everything you have done. However, you are
clearly fatigued. You have to take care of yourself as well. If you summon
Harrison, I’m sure he’ll be able to arrange for everything I need.”

He would be safer with his valet. The last thing he wanted
was to ask for his wife’s assistance in sitting up. He knew he wasn’t at risk
of pulling her down into the bed with him, not in his current condition. Having
Louisa continue to care for him, however, especially in light of his recent
discovery about his feelings for her, would add a level of intimacy to their
relationship that would be hard to back away from. Much as he hated the very
thought of it, this latest episode meant it was imperative that they follow
through with his original plan for Louisa to conceive an heir with Kerrick.