"John, I have to see him," she said against his neck. "I must go immediately."
"Hush, love," he said, "I shall take you to him tomorrow."
And she was tired of the pain, tired of bearing her grief alone. She surrendered to the comfort of her brother's strong arms. She allowed him to rock her in his arms, to lay his cheek against hers, and kiss her temple. She allowed herself to be comforted by the soothing words he murmured the whole time. She felt the whole burden of her agony slipping away.
---
A needle of light was shining through a chink in the curtains and directly onto Elizabeth's face. She was aware of it and knew instantly where she was. But she did not want to wake up yet. She was too warm and too comfortable. She shifted her position to escape the sunbeam and to burrow more deeply into the warmth.
But sleep was receding. Her mind was reaching back into memory for the source of the smell that now teased her nostrils, a musky cologne that she had not been in contact with for a long time. She could almost smell the salt of the ocean that seemed to be associated with it, could almost hear the sound of sea gulls crying in the early morning. She had a vivid recollection of warm lips on hers and a tongue that teased them apart and probed into her mouth.
She opened her eyes. Her head was resting in the hollow between Hetherington's shoulder and neck. His arm was around her, clasping the arm that was thrown across his naked chest. Although she could not see his face without tipping back her head, she could tell by his even breathing that he was sleeping. She lay paralyzed for a moment, then pushed in panic at his chest and pulled herself into a kneeling position beside him on the bed.
"What are you doing here?" she cried. "What has happened?"
His eyes were open now, though he did not move except to clasp his hands behind his head. "What do you imagine has happened, Elizabeth?" he asked. "Do you believe you have been ravished?"
"You were to sleep on the floor," she accused. "You are not to be trusted, my lord."
"Before you have a fit of the vapors," he said, "may I point out that I am lying on top of your blanket and beneath my own." He turned back the blanket that was covering him to prove the truth of what he said. "And you will also observe, if you have courage enough to look, that I am fully clothed from the waist down. Don't worry, my love, your virtue is quite intact."
She had grown to hate that sneer in his voice. "This is no joking matter," she hissed. "Get out of here immediately."
"Shirtless and bootless?" he asked, not moving. "I fear the landlady would be scandalized."
"Get out!" she shrieked, and she scrambled off the bed, grabbed his shirt, and flung it at him, then proceeded to do the same with his boots, one at a time.
"Stop this, you little wildcat," he commanded, suddenly serious. He too had leapt from the bed; he grabbed her now by the wrists as she was about to pick up his bag. "Do you wish the whole inn to believe that we are having a lovers' spat?"
She struggled against him, but his grip only tightened.
"What was I to do when you were having nightmares?" he asked. Elizabeth went limp suddenly and stared into his eyes. "You were dreaming about your nephew, wanting to go to him at once. You were crying and moaning enough to attract attention. When I came to wake you up, you thought I was your brother. The thought seemed to comfort you."
Elizabeth pulled her wrists from his loosened grip and crossed to the window. She pulled back the curtains and stared down into the yard, where ostlers were already busy grooming horses.
"I shall wash and shave and be out of here in five minutes," Hetherington said. "You can be sure then that I shall not give in to my animal instincts when you strip off that very appealing nightgown. It certainly enhances your maiden-aunt image."
She stood where she was, and not another word was exchanged until he left the room.
"I shall have breakfast sent up to you," he said. "Be ready to leave in half an hour's time."
---
It was well past the noon hour when the curricle drew to a stop outside her brother's home. Elizabeth was so stiff and sore that she hardly knew how to get down. Hetherington solved her problem by striding around to her side of the vehicle and lifting her to the ground with strong hands. He held to her waist for a moment.
"Are you all right?" he asked. They were the first words he had spoken since they had stopped to change horses several hours before.
"I shall be in a moment," she replied. "You need not concern yourself."
At that moment the front doors opened abruptly and John came out. Brother and sister glanced at each other anxiously and rushed into each other's arms. He held her in a bruising hug.
"You have come," he said. "Thank God! I knew you would."
She drew back and took in his disheveled appearance, bloodshot eyes, and several days' growth of beard.
"Jeremy?" she asked, the name almost sticking in her throat.
"The same," he said abruptly. "The fever has not broken. He is very weak, Elizabeth."
He looked past her to see who had accompanied her. "Good God," he said, "Hetherington!"
"You have the advantage of me," Hetherington answered coolly, extending his right hand. "But I assume you are John Rossiter."
John did not accept the hand. "What are you doing with my sister?" he asked tightly.
"He was staying at Ferndale, which is but three miles from Mr. Rowe's house," Elizabeth explained hastily. "He happened to be visiting yesterday afternoon when I read your letter and kindly offered to bring me home."
John grudgingly shook the hand that was still extended to him. "For that courtesy I thank you, Hetherington," he said.
"I came to offer my wife my protection," Hetherington said, "not to do anyone a courtesy."
"You are several years out of date," John retorted. "Elizabeth is no longer your wife, Hetherington. I shall protect her now."
Hetherington raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
"Papa did not tell you, then, that he had told me an untruth?" Elizabeth asked, and when John looked inquiringly at her, she added, "There was no divorce, John."
Her brother clenched his fists and glared with hostility at his brother-in-law. "Come inside," he said, taking Elizabeth's arm. "Louise is with Jeremy. I will not permit her to sit with him at night because she is not strong. I fear what this will do to her and the unborn child. Come, shall have some luncheon prepared for you."
"Is there anything I can do?" Elizabeth asked.
"After you have eaten and rested," he said firmly. "You have had a long journey, and by curricle, too." He led them into the house and straight to the dining room. What are your plans, Hetherington?" he asked. "Are you going to start back today?"
"No," Hetherington answered steadily. "I shall stay to offer Elizabeth my support as long as there is a crisis in the family. And thank you for the invitation, Rossiter."
---
Elizabeth was indeed thankful to shut the door of her old bedroom behind her, to slip off her dress, and to lie down on top of the bedcovers. After luncheon, which had been a strained occasion, Hetherington had disappeared and John had taken her up to the nursery where Jeremy lay, a flushed and pathetic little bundle lying in his cradle. He had been like this for three days, John explained in a whisper, hot, dry, and delirious. His face had lost some of its baby chubbiness. His blond hair had been clipped very short.