A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 53

The doctor straightened from searching in his bag and held out his hand towards Phillip, his eyes crinkling with good humour. "Alasdair Lachlan at your service. Where is the young lady?"

Sir Inglewood replied, "She is upstairs. Come, I will show you the way."

Alasdair nodded and picked up his bag, following him up the stairs. Phillip followed them, stopping only when they reached the entrance to Penny's room. Through the open door, he caught a glimpse of her curled up on the bed, shadows from the candles playing across her face, forehead gleaming with perspiration, just before the door was shut firmly. He swore softly to himself and settled down on an armchair to wait, ignoring the icy glares Edward and his father kept sending his way.

A few moments had passed before the door opened, and Alasdair returned to the living room. The men shot to their feet anxious to hear the doctor's findings.

"Well?" Phillip demanded, his mouth set in a straight line. "How is she?"

The doctor smiled at him reassuringly. "She has got a fever, but it is nothing to worry about unduly. I have given her some of my special herbs, so the fever should break by morning. I will remain here in the inn and check on her when it is daylight."

Sir Inglewood heaved a sigh and sunk back in his chair, exhaustion and relief clearly visible on his face. "Thank the Lord it is not something more serious. Are you certain she will be all right by morning, Mr. Lachlan?"

"Aye. My herbs have yet to fail me. She will be all right. Excuse me, gentlemen?" The doctor bowed and eased out the room. Phillip finally tore his gaze away from Penny's closed door.

"I will return in the morning as well," he murmured, striding after the man.

***

Penny opened her eyes to find herself staring into a pair of kind grey eyes. Her gaze travelled down to take in the rest of the face that hovered above her own, taking in features that were somehow not strange to her.

"Hello again!" The stranger's lips curved into a pleased smile, and he gently brushed a strand of damp hair from her forehead. Penny stared at the man, trying hard to recall where she had met him. She opened her mouth to reply but found her throat painfully parched and devoid of words. All that came out was a low groan.

"Here, drink this." He held a cup of water to her lips, raising her slightly so she could drink her fill. When she was satisfied, he set her back down gently, rearranging the covers over her, his motions tender and careful.

"I...I know you," she whispered, finding her voice at last though it came out hoarse.

He rewarded her with a smile. "Aye, but you should not exert yourself, my lady."

Jane came in carrying a stack of clean sheets and beamed in delight when she saw Penny awake. "You're awake! Oh how marvelous, indeed, Mr. Lachlan. Those herbs are a miracle."

"You are looking well, Miss Inglewood."

Startled, Penny's head jerked up. Newbridge stood at the doorway, his intense gaze levelled at her. His lips twisted into a smile as he stepped into the parlour, the room immediately shrinking under his impressive build. "It is almost hard to believe you were ill, but you should be resting."

Penny dropped her gaze to her folded hands resting on her lap, feeling her face heat under his scrutiny. She wondered that he had not yet returned to London; surely there was nothing keeping him there. "Thank you, Your Grace. Mr. Lachlan has worked a miracle indeed," she replied, careful to keep her tone quiet and demure.

He paused before the tiny window next to her chair, looking out at the lush green field beyond. "I can see that. Quite a miracle indeed." His gaze shifted from the window, and he studied the top of her dark head thoughtfully. "You still look a little pale though."

She shrugged. "It is nothing. I'm quite all right."

"Good, good," he murmured and fell silent, leaving Penny fidgeting uneasily, wondering why he was even there in the first place when he had apparently declared his contempt for her. She studied her hands intently, wishing she had something to do that would distract her from his uncomfortable presence. She stole a glance at him to discover he had resumed his contemplation of the outdoors with a wistful look.

She used that opportunity to study him. Even in profile, his face was arresting. The strong jaw and patrician nose lent him an air of danger, yet he remained utterly handsome. Her gaze strayed to his mouth, and her heart quickened as she recalled the feel of those lips on hers, how easy it was to give in to the passion he once offered. That mouth promised ecstasy, but not for her. No, he thought her a light skirt.