Danice Allen by Remember Me Read Free Book Online Page B

I am by no means convinced that such a calamity will befall your husband.” The doctor scanned the man’s reposing figure with a keen eye. “He seems in remarkably fine fettle. How old is he?”
    “Er … thirty, sir.” Amanda hoped she was estimating close to the gentleman’s actual age and watched for the doctor’s reaction. He nodded, seeming to accept the calculated guess.
    “Young. Still young. Indeed, I suspect he will recover very well, with the possibility of some short-term thought impairment. However, I suspect you are in for a tiring and very worrisome night, m’dear.”
    “What can you mean, doctor?” Amanda asked anxiously. “He does nothing but lie there!”
    “He might spike a fever—get restless and delirious. If he does, you must sponge him off repeatedly with a cloth dipped in vinegar water. Strip him down to nothing, and don’t encumber the poor fellow with bedclothes, not even a sheet. Fevers are best managed by lowering the temperature of the skin. Feed him barley water when you can get him to take it, and generally do whatever you can to make him comfortable.”
    “Yes, doctor.” Amanda blushed as she thought about what she might have to do to save this stranger’s life.
    As the doctor bent to pick up his scuffed leather bag, more than embarrassment overcame Amanda. For the first time in her life, sheer terror and panic gripped her. Unable to stop herself, Amanda grabbed the doctor’s coat sleeve and said beseechingly, “Must you go? I don’t know if I can manage him alone. He’s very strong and … and … large. What if I should do something wrong?”
    The doctor smiled and patted Amanda’s hand. “There’s probably not another person on earth who can manage him as well as you, m’dear. Speak to him soothingly, affectionately. Your familiar voice and touch will calm him. And I’ve complete confidence in your nursing skills. There’s nothing you can do wrong. Just keep his fever down as best you can, say your prayers, and I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
    It seemed too late to admit that she was not the injured gentleman’s loving wife; explanations would be lengthy, confusing, and suspicious. And Amanda knew that though she wasn’t the ideal nurse the doctor thought she was, there was probably no one in the house who could do a better job. Besides, though it was certainly an accident and the gentleman was partly to blame, Amanda felt responsible for his current state of injury. She truly didn’t want him to die.
    And beyond all these perfectly logical reasons to continue to masquerade as the stranger’s wife, Amanda finally had to admit to herself that she … well … enjoyed the masquerade. She liked being thought of as this attractive man’s better half… someone whose voice and presence while he was sick would be his best medicine. She felt special, needed. She felt like a beloved wife, something she might never be….
    The doctor left and Amanda ate a dinner of cold meat, hot soup and crusty bread in the room, ordered a cot to sleep on, washed her face, and brushed out her hair, all the while waiting in dread for the man to suddenly start thrashing about and mumbling incoherently. But he did nothing of the sort; just as before, he simply lay there. She tested his temperature every few minutes but discovered no fever.
    At nine o’clock there was a knock at the door, and Amanda opened it to Theo. “I thought you’d retired for the night, Theo,” she said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a room inside the inn, but—”
    “Thank you, miss, but I couldn’t care less where I sleep,” said Theo, glancing past Amanda into the room. His eyes fastened on the stranger in the bed, and he frowned. “But I’m troubled about yer sleepin’ arrangements.”
    Amanda sighed and turned to look at the man, too, his dark head and broad, bare shoulders showing above the coverlets like an ancient bust of a Roman warrior. “It can’t be helped, Theo. I feel