Husband Wanted (HC #1)

6: A Book in the Sickroom

Beth made every effort to busy herself for the rest of the day. She went to the kitchens to discuss the week's menu with the cook - a conversation she had not managed the previous day - and to sneak one of her delicious ginger biscuits. Then she arranged with the footmen to have the carriages brought round at eight in the evening on Saturday for the ball. She and her Lady's maid, Katherine, also selected her gown and hung it out to air, discussing hair, jewellery and shoes as they went. And despite all of that, she still chanced to be in the foyer as Mr Grayson escorted a pair of constables through.

Her heart froze and she tripped over the edge of the rug, catching herself on a display table. The vase atop it wobbled dangerously but thankfully stayed put. She tried to remind herself that the police had needed to be called, regardless of whether John was victim or perpetrator. They might even be in receipt of a missing persons report that could reveal his identity!

Despite her own assurances, she couldn't prevent the anxious glance she threw over her shoulder as she made her way upstairs. The rest of her afternoon went by tediously slowly, as she tried to find tasks that kept her in the vicinity of the foyer. It was hard to read, stitch or play the pianoforte with one eye on the front door, but she tried her best. Not long after she attempted the last, Phil appeared in the parlour doorway.

Beth glanced at the cock on the mantle; it was not yet four. "Should you not still be with your governess?"

The child moved closer, shaking her head. "Thankfully I have already exhausted Miss Nancy's knowledge of sums, else I imagine you'd be making it very hard to focus." She stopped a few strides away, hands fisted on her hips. "Whatever is the matter with you?"

Her sister bristled. "I beg your pardon? That's a very rude thing to ask, Phillipa."

The girl blinked up at her from under a furrowed brow. A maid passed through the foyer and the movement drew Beth's gaze. When she dropped her eyes back to Phil, understanding lit her sister's face. It was startling, not only to Beth but to all of their acquaintance, just how quickly her mind worked.

Without a sound, Phil turned away towards the bookshelves, standing on tiptoe to scan the titles. After a moment she drew one out, glancing at its cover with a nod and noise of approval. She collected two more, moving quickly from one end of the room to the other, before turning back to her older sister and offering the tomes.

"Here." She shook them gently.

Beth glanced from the books to Phil, blinking slowly. "Whatever are they for?" Her hand moved to rest on the novel she'd set atop the pianoforte. "I can select my own amusement, if you don't mind."

With a huff, Phil moved closer and all but dropped them in Beth's lap, ignoring her gasp of protest. "You can't read that drivel to the injured man. He's already weak; you might bore him to death!"

Her sister's mouth fell open in outrage, and then embarrassment kept it open as she didn't know what to say. Had her curiosity about the man been so apparent that even her 8-year-old sister had noticed? She blushed to think what the servants or her brothers were thinking about her behaviour.

"I hardly think that's appropriate, Phillipa," she said after a long moment, lips pursing into a delicate frown.

The little girl shrugged. "Suit yourself." She turned and walked away, pausing to look back from the doorway. "I did hear that reading to those with injure heads can help restore function and memory. Seems almost injurious not to go to him." Her scowl returned suddenly. "Whatever you decide, leave the piano alone – for all our sakes."

Beth's indignation returned, but her sister had already disappeared. She glanced down at the books in her lap, trying to ignore the flutter of excitement in her stomach. Perhaps it wouldn't be completely inappropriate to go check on the man, since she could possibly help him recover. It wouldn't be because she was curious, but for his benefit.