Jade Star (Star Quartet 4)

“Damn you, Jane!”

Jane felt tears sting her eyes, and leaned over without thought and hugged him close. “You’ll be all right, my dear, you’ll see. I mean that literally.”

Jules stood in the doorway, a surge of evi

l jealousy washing through her. Slowly she backed up, and returned downstairs to the kitchen.

Saint hugged Jane, a reluctant laugh emerging from his throat. “As I said, damn you, Jane. You don’t let a fellow bitch at all, do you?”

“You complain all you like, but you know very well that pity is the last thing you need.”

“Jane, be kind to Jules. I think she’s very afraid, but of course she’s a chattering, optimistic little bird around me.”

Jane was silent for a long moment. In truth, though, it was a brief war. She said, “I suggest you give her a bit more credit, Saint. She is your wife. Now I must go. I will come back, tomorrow perhaps.”

“Jane?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

Jane was relieved that he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She met Jules in the downstairs entranceway. “Thank you, my dear,” she said. “I’ll leave you now. You must be exhausted.”

“Yes,” Jules said in a rush, unable to hate this woman, “it has been mad all day, and Michael needs to rest. I don’t know what to do!”

“You give the orders, that’s what you do,” said Jane. “Let him complain and snap, but you do know what’s best for him. Good luck.”

And she was gone, leaving Jules to stare thoughtfully at the closed front door. She’s right, Jules thought, perfectly right!

“Lydia!” she called, her shoulders back, her chin up.

Saint heard her light footfall on the stairs. “Jules,” he said. “Wasn’t that the front door? Who’s here?”

“Who was here. It was Horace and Agatha Newton. They’ll return tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“I told them you needed rest. They understood and send their love.”

“I’m the doctor,” he said, stiffening. “I think I’m well able to decide when I need rest and when I don’t!”

“I brought you some tea and fresh sponge cake Lydia just baked,” Jules said, her voice calm, soothing.

He wanted to strike out. “Dammit, Jules! Don’t you dare treat me like a mewling child!”

“Here, love. Drink this.”

He did, with ill grace. Jules sat on the side of the bed, studying his face. “I’ll shave you, if you like,” she said, gently stroking her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks.

He grunted.

She leaned down and kissed him. “I love you, Michael. After you’ve rested, I’ll give you a bath. That you should like,” she added, her voice as wicked as she could manage.

“You want to beautify me so you can have your way with me,” he grumbled.

“Yes,” she said. “And I can do whatever I wish to you, and you’ll not gainsay me.”

“Dear God, a blind man dying from overexertion. Wife takes revenge on blind husband. I think I’ll give Tony Dawson some headlines for the Alta for when I expire.”