Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

He enfolded her in his arms, soothing her.

Suddenly, from the bed, "Lyon! No!"

He spun about and rushed back to the bed. She wasn't conscious but she was thrashing about, her hair becoming wildly tangled about her head. "No! Don't you dare! I hate you!"

Lyon grasped her hands in his. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, but she didn't see him. "Diana," he said, leaning close to her face, "listen to me. You will be all right. Do you understand me? You will pull through this. Damn you, you will get well again."

Dr. McComber said in a lowered voice to Lucia, "Is Lord Saint Leven her betrothed?"

Lucia knew Lyonel could hear them. She said clearly, "Not as yet. They are quite close. They much enjoy arguing."

"More like brother and sister," Lyonel said, his voice loud and harsh. He turned back to Diana. "Listen to me, you little twit, you will be all right. I will thrash you but good if you are not."

She laughed, he knew it.

It sounded to Dr. McComber like an odd moan. He stared at the man who had just threatened his patient with a beating. Little twit! Not at all a brotherly remark.

"You look awful."

Lyon started and come awake in an instant. Diana was gazing at him, her eyes clear, her voice a low croak. He grinned at her. "You should see yourself, my girl."

"What are you doing here? Goodness, I am in bed. Surely this is most improper, Lyon."

"Shut up, Diana. You have been very ill, for three days. Your fever broke last night. If you ever scare me like that again, I will ---"

"Beat me?"

Mrs. Bailey, the nurse, stood all ears near the fireplace. It was quite too much to have a gentleman camped

in the young lady's bedchamber, but to have him sitting on her bed, trading insults! She quickly moved forward. "I shall go fetch Dr. McComber for Miss Savarol."

"You do that," said Lyon, not looking at her.

"Damned interfering besom," he added under his breath.

"What is a besom?"

"Well, actually it means a broom, you know, an old one made of twigs tied together. I meant it as a witch."

"You need to shave."

"You need to do other things, but not shave at least."

She smiled. If her nose didn't lie, she much needed to bathe. "Have you stayed here?"

"Yes, every bloody hour." It had been horrendous, particularly the second night, when he was certain she would die, her breathing was so labored, her fever so very high. "How do you feel, honestly?"

Diana was silent a moment, querying her body. "It hurts just a bit to breathe. I ache and my voice sounds odd. Other than that, I am ready to waltz with you."

"Let's wait for a week, all right?"

"Well, how is my patient?"

"Who are you?"

"I am your doctor, Miss Savarol. Name of McComber. Now, my lord, if I could get you to move aside, just a bit, I would like to examine my patient."

Lyon moved, just a bit. Diana held to his hand as if it were a lifeline.