Page 22 of Never Tempt a Widow

She burrowed down again. “Please go away, Rowland. You’ve tired me out with arguing.”

“Nonsense.” He swept the bedclothes aside. “If you don’t get out of your own accord, I’ll throw you over my shoulder just as you are and frog-march you outside.”

Her head popped up again, and she stared at him. He met her gaze unblinkingly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He hid his smile as she rolled her eyes, then slowly and deliberately dragged herself to the edge of the bed and sat upright. He moved quickly, fetching a pair of his old boots from the neighbouring room.

Guiding her slender feet into them, he pondered that this was the first time he’d touched his wife’s ankles. On a day when he had a less practical purpose in mind, he must allow himself the luxury of admiring them.

“I caught you watching me from the window,” he said, hefting his shoulder beneath her arm to help her upright. “Why did you hide?”

“I wasn’t watching you. I wanted to make sure you were looking after Edgar.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose I should applaud you for that. But you can trust me with my son, you know. He’s all I’ve got and is more precious than gold. I now have you, too, of course.”

She harrumphed at that but allowed him to coax her into a thick dressing gown. Over this, he placed her cloak, then, for good measure, seized the counterpane from the bed and tucked it around her shoulders.

“I must look like an Egyptian mummy,” she complained as she tottered towards the door. “I really don’t think this is wise.”

“Having seen an Egyptian mummy, I can assure you that you do not. This little outing is exactly what the doctor advised, to rescue you from acute melancholia. I need you fit enough to ride Saxon in the next few weeks, and the horse needs you, too. Don’t worry—he can carry us both while you’re still weak. But today, our outing will be very modest.”

She shuffled along the landing, then halted. “I don’t want the servants to see me like this.”

He caught her up and hefted her across his chest. “You probably don’t want them to see you like this, either,” he said, making his way carefully down the staircase. “But if we’re lucky, they’ll be too busy about their duties to gawp.”

Even bundled up in all her coverings, she was light as a feather. She was already petite—it would do no harm for her to add some flesh to her delicate bones.

As Jacob held the door open for them, Rowland discovered he was grinning from ear to ear. He probably looked as if he was disposing of a body, but no one questioned him—his servants were used to his eccentricities by now.

“Just taking Lady Cavendish out for some air,” he threw back over his shoulder.

Lady Cavendish. How good that sounded—as if he were whole again, as if he were part of a viable family, an anchor in an uncertain world. He’d planned to put Fina down and encourage her to walk when he reached level ground but was unwilling to relinquish her. Tightening his grip, he carried her around the house and through the formal gardens to the stone seat that gave the best view of the grounds.

“Are you warm enough?”

A nod.

“It’s good to see the sun again, isn’t it?”

After a pause, another nod.

“Won’t you speak to me, my sweet?”

“I don’t have anything to say. I’ve been sick for a month, remember.”

“I know. But it’s time to be well again.” He tucked a loose tendril of hair back inside her cap. “Dr Marks says you’ve made excellent progress. We just need to revive your spirits now, as your body is well on the mend.”

“I don’t know how you’re going to do that. I feel as if I’m surrounded by black, noxious clouds and have no idea where I am or where I’m going.”

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it either, but he was damn well going to try. Despite this being a marriage of convenience, she was family now—he cared about her and couldn’t bear to see her so broken.

“I ask only that you take it in short stages, one at a time. First, we’ll conquer molehills. The mountains can wait. You see the vegetable garden over there?”

She followed the direction of his pointing finger. “On the other side of the wall with the Grecian urn on top?”