“Horace had changed his nightshirt, and a maid had brought a fresh bowl of water. The countess had helped prepare the tea of the infusions True had brought. Then, on True’s orders they had all left, just as Drake was beginning to get restless again.Once more he had started the downward spiral of nightmare visions and fevered delusions, but through it all True talked, calmly, about anything and everything. She told him stories of her childhood and her sister, and about her village. And all the wh...ile she held him, stroked his hair off his forehead and fed him, bit by bit, the herbal tea, dripping it down his throat with infinite patience whenever he would let her. She felt a tension ease out of him, draining like a bad humor from his body, leaving him limp in her arms.Soon she knew every inch of his sleek shoulder and arm and neck muscles under the light linen of his nightshirt. Her own arms ached with the effort, but still she held him close. Once a maid came, at Lady Leathorne’s request, to bring True some broth and toast.“Her ladyship’s order, miss.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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