The Haunted Knight of Lady Canterley_A Historical Regency Romance Novel by Patricia Haverton

Author:Patricia Haverton [Haverton, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07YSFVFHF
Publisher: Patricia Haverton
Published: 2019-10-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“Daughter.”

Amalia woke from a light doze instantly and found her father staring at her from his pillow. “Father.”

The hour was past midnight, and Amalia had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed. Grateful she had, for had she been in her own rooms, she might have missed his awakening. Edwina slept on a sofa nearby, unable to remain awake. His smile for her appeared weak, but it was nonetheless there and real, and he was still alive. “May I have water?” he muttered, his tone husky.

“Of course.”

She rushed to the sideboard to pour from a pitcher into a glass and called for Mr. Hill. “He is awake.”

Amalia held the glass to his lips, and relief swept through her like a gale-force wind. “No more getting out of bed for you, Father,” she informed him. “This time, you stay in bed until you are completely well and recovered.”

The Duke finished the glass and leaned back with a sigh. “You believe that my getting out of bed too soon is making me relapse?”

“Yes,” Amalia replied.

“I believe that as well, Your Grace.”

Mr. Hill bowed, then entered the room. “You must retain all your strength until you fight this persistent disease off. You must eat even if you do not feel hungry, drink all the liquids you can in addition to my herbal remedies.”

“I expect that between you both, I have little choice.”

Amalia brushed her fingers over his brow. “You do not. And if I must, I will call in footmen to enforce your bed rest.”

“They obey me, daughter, not you.” But the Duke smiled. “I will stay abed until I am fully healed.”

“Good. Now, please, drink this tea and eat a little. I will watch over you.”

“And in order to ensure the purity of what you eat and drink,” Mr. Hill stated firmly, “you will partake of only what I prepare myself. Heaven alone knows what you might partake of in ignorance.”

Amalia stared at him. “Diseases spread through food and water?”

“Oh, very much so. Contaminated water—” The little man shuddered. “I was in India for a time, studying. The diseases that spread through there, you cannot imagine.”

“But why are the rest of us not ill?” she asked, confused.

“Many reasons, My Lady. A natural immunity, for instance. In India, some people took ill and died while others did not, yet all drank the same water. Take the Black Plague in our own history. Most died, yet others never got sick at all.”

“That still makes little sense,” Amalia protested. “We should still see others in the household ill as well.”

“I am suspecting that His Grace ate or drank something contaminated, and we are still seeing the effects until it is washed from his person.”

“Perhaps that is it.” Amalia turned back to her father. “Now, you will heed Mr. Hill? He is your best hope of recovering. And no more adventures at the supper table.”

His eyes widened. “And miss your theatrics while angering Lord Eastcairn?”

“Yes, those as well,” Amalia replied with a laugh. “Right now, you need all the rest you can get.

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