“As you wish, my lord,” he said before leaving.
Granted, he did pull up the sheet slightly more so a larger portion of his chest was covered.
Poor Mr. Fuller was having to go back and forth to attend to this situation that was entirely her fault.
Finn heard her speaking before he saw her. Had he been seen to by a doctor, she asked. It really was the most ill-conceived question. No one in their right mind would leave him without calling a doctor to attend.
Mr. Fuller assured her that Dr. Peteson was giving him the best possible care. And then she appeared with this Mr. Torville in tow—a dandy by the look of him.
She paused at the door, and then steeled herself as if she was walking into a lion’s cage. “We received word you’ve been injured, and the communication indicated quite severely.”
Mr. Fuller brought over two chairs and they sat down. Mr. Torville’s eyes were lingering a little where they shouldn’t, while she was abjectly refusing to look anywhere except at his head—and above it.
“As you see. I’m convalescing, but thank you for coming and intruding.”
“Eliza was worried. Julius probably would be too if he was around. Did you get your servants out of an antiquarian museum?” she said as Mr. Fuller left the room. “That man must be a hundred years old.”
It was a fair observation, but he didn’t want to discuss the complexities of the topic with her.
“What will you do if he drops dead?”
Eloquent as always. “There are others.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “We haven’t been introduced. I am Mr. Melville Torville.”
“My cousin,” Octavia cut in.
Melville stood and leaned over to shake his hand. Finn complied, but hated to show how weak he was. He could barely do more than lay his hand in the other man’s palm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in these less than fortuitous circumstances. I understand there’s some concern about your well-being,” the man said.
“I’m surprised you came,” Finn said frankly to Octavia.
“If I didn’t, Eliza would probably have tried to, and she’s not fit for travel in her state.”
At no point in his association with Eliza Hennington had she denoted anything other than that she was a lovely, caring human being. It was a shame things had worked out as they had, but such things couldn’t be helped. As it was, he would appreciate her friendship. “Then tell her that I’m convalescing and will be restored—eventually.”
Now an awkward silence spread between them.
“It’s a lovely house,” Melville said after a while. “Has it been in your family for long?”
“Quite some time,” Finn said, tugging the sheet up a little higher.
“Are there other servants?” Octavia asked. Why did everything she said sound so accusing?
“Of course.” There were five in total, which would probably displease her, because it wasn’t enough to run a house like this. “The others are at the townhouse.” Where he had intended on living before he’d been hounded out of London through social machinations. The staff here was simply to see to the house while he wasn’t here. “They haven’t been recalled.”
“Are they all elderly?” she asked. “Do you run a convalescing home for retired servants, as well?”
Oh, that tone in her voice—how he had not missed it. “They have been with the family for a very long time,” he said, managing not to sound as defensive as he felt. In essence, in some way, she was accusing him of mistreating these people. “They have a home here for as long as they wish.”
It was so like her to hone in on any issue he was grappling with, such as his bachelor status, and what to do with his elderly servants. Any hint of deficiency in his life, she sought it out and probed endlessly. Maybe he was extrapolating a little out of what he’d experienced, but she seemed to seek out any discord in his life. Perhaps she would blame him for getting injured.
“How did you get injured?” she asked bluntly, almost as if she was reading his thoughts.
“Landslide,” he replied.
“Landslide?” she said, looking astonished. “Did the earth try to swallow you up?”
“Are you disappointed I survived?”
“Why would you say such a thing? I came here to ensure you were being cared for sufficiently.”
Melville’s gaze was traveling between them as if he was enjoying the show. Just then, Mr. Fuller came with a tea tray, and a misstep had the sugar bowl sliding off the tray—almost as if to prove her point that his household was in shambles. “My pardon,” Mr. Fuller said, deeply embarrassed.
Do not be cruel to my man, Finn ordered silently.
“Let me assist you,” she said sweetly and rose from her chair. “I think you were the victim of a kink in the carpet.” She smiled as she took the tray from him. Mr. Fuller appreciated the excuse. And you, Finn said silently to Mr. Fuller, do not fall under her charm. “I suppose we have to assist you too,” she said, returning her attention to Finn.
“I can manage a teacup,” he said sternly. If it was small and barely filled.
“It’s almost like you’re family,” Melville stated with amusement. What an odd man. And what a strange and distressing thing to say.
Chapter 19
THE ROOM WAS REALLY WARM, but perhaps it was necessary. It wasn’t impossible to see Fortescue’s form under the sheets. A strangely languid sight. For sake of propriety, she really shouldn’t have come into his bedchamber, but these were extenuating circumstances. They had to establish that he was well, and that couldn’t be done by taking someone’s word for it. It was possible that servants could misrepresent something, or be told to say something that wasn’t true.
What was
