To Want a Rogue

“He needs to be kept safe from your cold,” he answered back, but worry had tightened his chest. On some level, Dahlia had already become important to him. How had that happened?

She lay her head on his shoulder and gave a nod of understanding. “You’re right.”

He drew in a deep breath, noting the faint scent of lilacs permeating her hair. A strand of that glorious mass of curls lay under his hand and he rubbed his palm along her back, allowing the silky lock to rub against his fingers. He sighed. What the bloody hell was the matter with him? Worrying after a woman, sighing like a lovesick fool?

Arriving at her room, he carried her through the door and lay her on the bed. She was still fully dressed, and his fingers itched to help remove her clothes, but not even he could argue with himself that he’d be doing the undressing for her benefit. But he wanted to help her.

With a sigh, he realized that since Amelia, he hated watching others suffer, women especially. If he were honest, it wasn’t just Amelia’s memory that held him back but his own inability to save her that left him scarred.

Which was why he needed respect boundaries and leave her care to the maid. He crossed the room and pulled the cord to summon Agnes. “Please, stay in bed tomorrow.”

With one last look at her stretched across the covers, her tiny waist accentuated by the curve of her hip rising up off the bed, he turned and left the room.

Chapter Six

Dahlia spent the next two days in bed with a summer cold. Two agonizing days where she could do no more than yell to her brother through the open connecting door. She longed to brush back his hair, check his color, see for herself that he was making progress. Instead, she had to make do with progress reports from Gavin about his health. Gavin had written to Sam’s employer, Gavin had spoken with the doctor, Gavin had sat with Sam for several meals.

She wasn’t jealous, at least that’s what she told herself. Sam deserved a friend and Gavin had been correct, being with Sam wasn’t worth the risk of getting him sick, though today she felt much better. And Sam had clearly enjoyed the male company. She could hear the happy notes in his voice through the open door. He’d given most of them up when he’d taken on her care. And Gavin might be the most gracious host in all of England. But she was lonely being left in th

e room alone with only occasional visits from Agnes. Besides, her brother had done so much for her, she should be caring for him now.

She was failing everyone, or at least, that was how she felt. She’d lied to the man who now singlehandedly held her family together and she’d been unable to help her brother in any meaningful way.

Tossing the covers aside, she crossed the room to the window, watching the early morning sun rise in the sky. Her nose was only a bit stuffy now. She could at least open the door and look at her brother from across the room.

She turned the knob of their connecting door. It creaked a bit as it opened and she winced, holding still. She didn’t want to wake him, Sam needed his rest. But as she stood frozen, no noise came from the interior of the darkened room, so she pushed the door open a bit more, peeking her head inside.

Her brow crinkled, her lips pulling tight. Something was amiss. Her brother, asleep, tossed restlessly from side to side, low moans punctuating his movements.

She started into the room but stopped. She might inadvertently make things worse. Instead, she retreated to her room and grabbed a dressing robe from the hook on the door, pulling the garment on as she raced from the room.

She saw the butler first. “Where is his lordship?”

The man’s eyes widened. “His study.”

She didn’t have time to explain, nor did she care what he thought of her attire. Picking up speed, her bare feet moving swiftly across the carpet, she focused on what she could do, running for Gavin’s help. Again. But thoughts of what might happen if she didn’t pushed her legs faster. The study came into view, the door ajar, and she sprinted in without warning, stopping abruptly in front of his desk.

Gavin lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers as his eyes widened in surprise. “What’s the matter?”

“Sam,” she gasped between heaving breaths.

He was up in an instant and around the desk. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back out the door, retracing the path she had just taken.

Her lungs threatened to burst but at least she was doing something. She pushed back the helpless feeling that suffocated her and squeezed Gavin’s hand tightly.

He stopped and pulled her close, wrapping an arm about her waist. “What happened?”

“I didn’t dare go in, but he was restless and…” She swallowed, panting around the words, as she tried to force them out. “I’m worried he has a fever.”

He nodded, squeezing her tight. “Try not to worry.”

Impossible. “Not only am I worried for him, terribly so, I am concerned for myself.” She bit her lip as he pulled her body closer. This time, her reaction was more emotional. She wanted to bury herself against his strong chest. “Selfish, I know.”

They pressed on and then stopped in front of Sam’s door. “It isn’t selfish. Being alone in this world is terribly difficult.” Then he set her down on her feet and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll check on him and send for the doctor if needed.”

She twisted her hands together as he opened the door and then closed it behind him. Perhaps she’d overreacted. Maybe he was simply having a bad dream.

Leaning against the jamb of the door, tears threatened to spill down her face. What was she going to do now?