“Oh, my dear,” Tony said, and sighed, but he made no further remark.
It seemed like forever before they eventually drew up in front of Woldsly. Oscar tumbled out, and Tony followed more sedately. George could hear them organizing footmen and finding a door to lay Harry on. She looked down. Harry hadn’t moved an inch since he’d been laid on her lap. His eyes were so swollen, she wasn’t sure he’d be able to open them even if he was awake. She placed her palm against his neck and felt his pulse, slow but strong.
The men came back and took over. They wrestled Harry out of the carriage and onto the door they’d found. Four men carried him up the steps and into Woldsly. Then they had to take him up more steps, sweating and cursing despite George’s presence. Finally, they placed Harry on a bed in a little room in between Tony’s and her own, a compromise. The room was hardly big enough to hold a bed, chest of drawers, bedside table, and chair. It was really meant to be a dressing room. But it was near her own, and that was all that mattered. All the men, even her brothers, trooped out, leaving the room suddenly quiet. Harry hadn’t so much as twitched during the entire process.
George sat down wearily next to him on the bed. She laid her hand at his neck again, feeling for that heartbeat and closed her eyes.
Behind her, the door opened.
“Dear Lord, what they’ve done to that bonny man.” Tiggle stood beside her with a basin of hot water. The lady’s maid met George’s eyes, then squared her shoulders. “Let’s make him comfortable, anyway, shall we, my lady?”
SIX DAYS LATER, HARRY OPENED his eyes.
George was sitting by his bed in the dim little room as she had every day and almost every night since he’d been laid there. She didn’t let her hopes get away from her when she saw his eyelids flicker. He’d opened his eyes briefly before and hadn’t seemed to recognize her or even to be fully awake.
But this time his emerald eyes settled on her and stayed. “My lady.” His voice was a whispered croak.
Oh, sweet Lord, thank you. She could have sung hallelujahs. She could have danced a reel around the room all by herself. She could have fallen upon her knees and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving.
But she merely lifted a cup to his lips. “Are you thirsty?”
He nodded without ever taking his eyes from hers. When he had swallowed, he whispered, “Don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry.” George replaced the cup on the bedside table. “They’re tears of joy.”
He watched her a few minutes longer; then his eyes closed again, and he fell asleep.
She put her hand to his neck as she had innumerable times over the last terrible week. She’d done it so often that it had become habit. The blood beneath his skin beat strong and steady. Harry murmured at her touch and shifted.
George sighed and rose. She spent an hour in a luxurious, slow bath and took a nap that somehow lasted until nightfall. When she woke, she dressed in a yellow dimity gown with lace at the elbows and requested that her supper be brought to Harry’s room.
He was awake when she entered his room, and she felt her heart skip. Such a small thing, seeing his eyes alert, but it made all the difference in her world.
Someone had helped him to sit up. “How’s Will?”
“He’s fine. Will is staying with Bennet Granville.” George went to open the curtains.
The sun was dying, but even that little light made the room seem less gloomy. She made a mental note to have the maids open the one window in the morning to get rid of the stuffy sickroom odor.
She came back beside the bed. “Apparently, Will hid when they took you and then ran all the way back to West Dikey to tell the Cock and Worm’s landlord what had happened. Not that the landlord could do much.”
“Ah.”
George frowned at the thought of Harry in that cell being beaten every day with no one to help him. She shook her head. “Will was most anxious about you.”
“He’s a good lad.”
“He told us what happened that night.” George sat down. “You saved his life, you know.”
Harry shrugged. Obviously he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Would you like some beef tea?” She removed the cover to the tray of food the maids had already brought.
On her side was a plate of roast beef, steaming in juice and gravy. There were potatoes and carrots and a savory pudding. On his side of the tray stood a single cup of beef tea.
Harry eyed the food and sighed. “Beef tea would be very nice, my lady.”
George brought the cup to his face, intending to hold it as she had before while he drank from it, but he took the cup from her fingers. “Thank you.”
She busied herself arranging her tray and pouring a glass of wine, but she watched him from the corner of her eye. He drank from the cup and rested it on his lap without spilling. His hands seemed steady. She relaxed a bit inside. She hadn’t wanted to embarrass him by hovering, but only a day ago he’d been quite insensible.
“Will you tell me your fairy tale, my lady?” His voice had strengthened since this afternoon.
George smiled. “You’ve probably been on tenterhooks, wondering about the ending.”
Harry’s bruised lips twitched, but he replied gravely, “Yes, my lady.”
“Well, let’s see.” She popped a piece of beef into her mouth and thought as she chewed. The last time she had told him the story… Suddenly she remembered that she’d been quite naked and Harry had… George swallowed too suddenly and had to grab for her wine. She just knew she was blushing. She snuck a look at Harry, but he was looking resignedly down at his beef tea.
She cleared her throat. “The Leopard Prince turned into a man. He grasped his crown pendant and wished for a cloak of invisibility. Which would have been quite handy since, as we discussed before, he was most probably nude when he turned into a man.”
He raised his eyebrows at her over the rim of his cup.
She nodded primly. “He put the cloak on and set out to defeat the nasty witch and win the Golden Swan. And while there was a small setback when she turned him into a toad—”
Harry smiled at her. How she gloried in his smiles!
“Eventually he was able to resume his natural form and steal the Golden Swan and bring it to the young king. Who, of course, immediately carted it off to the beautiful princess’s father.”
She cut a piece of beef and held it out to Harry. He eyed the fork, but instead of taking it, he merely opened his lips. His eyes met hers and held them as George placed the food in his mouth. For some reason this transaction made her breath quicken.