The Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

bandage is changed.” He held up another bottle, “Infuse a pinch of this one in a cup of tea twice daily and have her drink it. It should help fight infection and help with fever.”
    Jason nodded.
    “If she gets the fever, keep her rubbed down and send for me.”
    “Will you get here sooner than before?” He really didn’t like using his rank to intimidate, but he would if need be.
    The doctor sighed. “My lord, I’m the only doctor in Himpley Downs. I have several patients. And regardless of popular belief, infections, childbirth and mishaps make no distinction between the classes. I go as I’m needed.”
    Jason barely bit back his retort, but the man spoke the truth. He rubbed a hand over his face.
    “Thank you.”
    He walked the man out, asking him questions yet again.
    * * * * *
    “Mary. Mary…” she whispered, thrashing about on the bed. “No, please, please no, baby. Please don’t go.”
    Her words were faint, but still Jason caught them. He ran the cold cloth over her face again, down her neck. For hours now he’d rubbed her down, but her fever still raged. She’d started it late that morning after the doctor left. Grims offered to get Mrs. Meddows or one of the other maids to help wash the woman down, but at the look Jason threw him, Grims left.
    He knew his staff wondered at the lord of the house nursing the stranger—and in his room at that. But he owed them no explanations, if he could come up with one. Which he couldn’t and he’d tried.
    Something about her pulled at him. Or maybe it was the fact she was left for dead. He’d been left for dead once. Jason shook off the thoughts.
    It was now dark.
    He still knew no more about the woman than he had earlier, except that she was the only survivor of the robbed stage. The coachman and guard were found dead, the coachman further up the road from the guard who lain on the roadside by a deceased colonel. Jason wondered if the attack was mere coincidence or something more. Why had it happened practically on his doorstep? Because of the storm, he’d missed the meeting he was supposed to garner information on and, with the finding the chit, he hadn’t had the time to worry over it. But now, he wondered…
    She was indeed lucky. If he could only get her fever down.
    Again she tossed her head on the pillow. “No. No. Please, don’t. Please…”
    “ Shh . You’re safe.”
    The cold water in the basin chilled his hands, but still he dipped the cloth and ran it over her again. After hours of this, he knew her body as he did own. Well, almost. Her petite frame made him feel protective, or perhaps it was the scars, or the tears that leaked from beneath her closed eyes, at the pain of her feverish rantings , he knew not.
    Her warm, flushed cheeks scared him. Normally, a woman in his bed with such a rosy complexion would make him smile in triumph, but not now. Now, he just wanted to get the damn fever down. He’d fought for years on the Continent, knew what fever could do to a grown man, hardened by war. From what he could see, this woman had suffered enough in her life without having this to add to her pain.
    “You’ll be all right,” he whispered to her, brushing a damp strand of hair from her temple.
    He wished he knew her name. Something to bring her out of this, to at least acknowledge her whereabouts. Then he’d find out who she was.
    Her rest was fitful and scattered. Throughout the night he listened to the desperate whispers pleading for Mary, begging for Theodore to stop.
    Who was Mary? Her child? He knew women’s bodies well enough, that he knew she’d born one. There were telltale silvery lines on her small breasts and two on her lower abdomen.
    And Theodore?
    He picked up her hand and wiped it with the cloth, her palm burning in his. He twirled the gold band on her finger. It was loose and he pulled it up just a bit. For a woman as pale as she was, there was still a faint white band on her finger from wearing the ring for some amount