A Sense of Propriety

Chapter 13

The afternoon sun's rays were warm as they filtered through the glass panes of Cordelia's bedroom. The servants were limited to this part of the house to ensure that minimal noise was created. She seemed to have a terrible headache, and she was asleep for most of the day.

Martha was busy carrying out her instructions given by the Countess. She had checked on her young mistress from time to time as she packed, changing the cloths placed on her face and arms when they became too warm to be of any use.

She had just finished packing the first lot of dresses into a traveling trunk when she heard the echo of footsteps drawing nearer to Cordelia's bedroom. She looked up and was surprised to see the Marquis of Midrake raise his hand to the opened door to announce his presence. She straightened at once, offering him a small bow.

"Good afternoon, m'lord," she greeted, her voice soft so as not to disturb the sleeping lady.

"How is she?" he asked, mirroring her tone as his gaze drifted towards Cordelia.

"Not too well. It is a terrible case of homesickness. Her Ladyship has asked me to prepare her luggage. We are to leave as soon as she is well enough."

But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continued to stare at Cordelia with a tender longing in his gaze that most were not perceptive enough to see. Slowly he walked towards her prone figure and gently touched the back of his hand against her temple. His back was to Martha now, so she could not see the expression on his face.

"Where is Lady Mayfield currently?"

"I believe she has gone to see her horses at the stables, but I do not think she will exercise her stallion today. She will want to be here when Miss Sutton breaks her fever."

The Marquis nodded and removed one of the cloths from her arm to dip it in the cool water placed beside the bed. Martha watched, stunned as he rang the excess water and returned the cloth to her heated skin then repeated the action with the next.

"Please inform me as soon as the Countess arrives," he instructed calmly, his gaze not once leaving Cordelia's pale countenance.

Martha bristled slightly at the command, knowing that he was implying her to keep a lookout so that he was not found in a compromising position with the young lady.

"You should know as well as I, m'lord, that I cannot allow you to remain in the same room as Miss Sutton unattended, especially when she is in such a weakened state that she cannot possibly defend herself," she stated, her voice tense and heart increasing frantically at what would happen should anything untoward occur and be made known to the ears of the public.

"And you should know that I will do no such thing that will result in damage to her reputation, Martha," he said, finally looking at her over his shoulder. "I only wish to take care of her."

A silent conversation seemed to pass between their gazes before the old nurse eventually relented. "Very well. I will do as you ask," she muttered and closed the lid of the trunk with a thud that was a little louder than necessary.

"Thank you, Martha," he said with a hint of humor on his lips as she walked to the door, ensuring that it remained open as she left, grumbling under her breath as she did so.

He looked back at Cordelia then and his heart grew heavy, hating the sight of her ill complexion and sunken features. She looked so ill that he did not blame the Countess for wishing to return her to the country as soon as possible. He remembered the last time she had taken ill; she could not leave her bed for a week. Her being so frail and vulnerable felt as though a knife had been thrust into his chest and was being turned in an excruciatingly slow manner.