Chapter 58

Everyone agreed that my plan might work. We would want to keep Mrs. Biltmore’s attack on me a secret, otherwise my presence at Lady Ingram’s viewing might seem suspicious. Lucy was dispatched immediately to talk to Lady Grainger about our scheme. “I think she’ll go along with it, if only to have the matter settled.”

Only my husband had misgivings. Later that evening when we were in bed, he questioned me. “Are you up to this? It could mean being on your feet a long while at the visitation, as there’s sure to be a lengthy receiving line.”

His unruly hair had grown long during our visit, but I rather enjoyed the way it brushed his nightshirt collar. I touched a strand lovingly as he said, “There has to be a way around having you at the viewing. I shall go and offer our sympathy, but you don’t need to come. We must be able to gather Miss Mary’s confession some other way.”

“I can’t think of one. Neither could anyone else,” I said. “Besides, I am the squire’s wife and it is my duty to attend as well as yours.”

“But you are injured,” he said. “I shall tender your regrets. Today I saw a bit more color in your cheeks, and I hope to continue to see such progress.”

“You will.”

He smoothed my hair and kissed the top of my ear, and I thought I could smell green traces of the medicinal herb he’d been using as Mr. Lerner had recommended. “When I see the progress, I really mean that. I see how you are coming along.”

“Really?” Joy bubbled up inside me.

“You are not wholly distinct, but I can discern more detail. More substance. There are edges around objects. A bit of acuity has returned.”

“Oh, Edward!” I threw my arms around his neck and felt the pinch of pain as my reward. “Oh!”

“See? You are in pain. You need to stay here. Lady Ingram was nothing to you—less!—and I can share your regrets. We will manage somehow without you.”

“No,” I said. “I shall heal better knowing we can put all this behind us.”

“Jane,” he said, as his lips teased my throat, “you try my patience.”

“Oh, sir . . .”