REGENCY: Loved by the Duke (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Short Stories) Read Online Free
Author: Serena Vale, Tencia Winters
the ice cold appearance of his body. Emma grazed her touch softly over him, interlocking her fingers with his. She heard him gasp abruptly and she snapped her eyes to his. They were staring, gaping, glaring at her. Emotions exploding in the wide, intense gawk in his eyes.
“Charles?” she choked, her voice breaking and she leaned into him.
His eyes were closed as soon as they were opened and he relapsed back into sleep. Emma jerked her head back to the doctors for some explanation.
“He has been drifting in and out of consciousness, Your Grace,” explained the kind doctor. “Do not alarm yourself.”
“When should we expect some improvement?” expressed Lady Hadlington anxiously.
“It is not clear, Your Grace,” the kind doctor admitted. “But we shall keep a close eye on him.”
Emma nodded again. “May I stay with him?” she implored sombrely.
The old doctor approached her then and put a supportive hand on her shoulder again.
“Of course, Your Grace, but I will not pretend that it will not be distressing for you.”
“I will stay,” she replied assertively.
And he nodded, wise enough not to argue with her. Emma felt pressure on her fingers as her husband’s hands trembled again but she held hope that he knew of her presence and was comforted by it.
Over the following days, Emma sat devotedly by his bed. She had found books on his table and had decided to read them to him. Hours past by and she had soon become an expert on farming and the trade of cotton. Finally, she had discovered a novel amongst the nightmarishly boring textbooks of trade. She was surprised by it. A bookmark had been placed in the middle of it, so she presumed he had been reading it of late. What surprised her though was the book itself. A romance novel she had recommended to a friend at a dinner party one evening; the only mention she had ever given on the subject of the novel. Emma was in awe to find it here amongst his intimate books.
She opened the page at which the bookmark was and sat down beside him in her carefully placed chair so she could see him clearly and watch for any signs of improvement. As Emma positioned herself more comfortably, her eyes naturally settled upon his tired face for a split second every now and then. This time, however, his fluttering closed eyelids were faintly open and they watched her, mystified.
She gasped aloud in surprise. “Oh, Charles.”
He swallowed with some effort.
She gripped his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I’ll get Doctor Seymour.” She had since learnt his name.
She felt his fingers squeeze tightly around hers as she tried to pull away.
“St-stay,” he croaked; his throat dry.
Emma was confused and somewhat taken aback but she nodded and sat on the edge of his bed; her hand entwined with his sweaty palm. She leaned over him and caressed his roasting forehead. His eyes followed her as she fussed over him. A strange look in his eyes she could not identify.
“How are you feeling?” she gave as much of a smile as she could.
He attempted to smile wearily and Emma laughed nervously in reply.
“You look terrible,” she whispered. “But so much better than you were,” Emma promised.
He breathed loudly and a small smile appeared on his lips again and she could sense he was writhing in some kind of agony.
Emma bent down and pressed her moist lips against his heated brow; she lingered there for a few moments and felt him sigh deeply. Pulling back, she gazed him intensely in the eye.
“What you did,” she paused, unable to fit words to what she felt and wanted to describe. “was the bravest act I have ever witnessed.”
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady her voice.
“You saved me.” She stated simply.
He smiled again and attempted to speak again; his mouth opening slightly.
The door opened squeakily and both of them looked toward the intruder. Doctor Seymour came in and a huge smile erupted across his face.
“Your Grace,” he addressed
“Charles?” she choked, her voice breaking and she leaned into him.
His eyes were closed as soon as they were opened and he relapsed back into sleep. Emma jerked her head back to the doctors for some explanation.
“He has been drifting in and out of consciousness, Your Grace,” explained the kind doctor. “Do not alarm yourself.”
“When should we expect some improvement?” expressed Lady Hadlington anxiously.
“It is not clear, Your Grace,” the kind doctor admitted. “But we shall keep a close eye on him.”
Emma nodded again. “May I stay with him?” she implored sombrely.
The old doctor approached her then and put a supportive hand on her shoulder again.
“Of course, Your Grace, but I will not pretend that it will not be distressing for you.”
“I will stay,” she replied assertively.
And he nodded, wise enough not to argue with her. Emma felt pressure on her fingers as her husband’s hands trembled again but she held hope that he knew of her presence and was comforted by it.
Over the following days, Emma sat devotedly by his bed. She had found books on his table and had decided to read them to him. Hours past by and she had soon become an expert on farming and the trade of cotton. Finally, she had discovered a novel amongst the nightmarishly boring textbooks of trade. She was surprised by it. A bookmark had been placed in the middle of it, so she presumed he had been reading it of late. What surprised her though was the book itself. A romance novel she had recommended to a friend at a dinner party one evening; the only mention she had ever given on the subject of the novel. Emma was in awe to find it here amongst his intimate books.
She opened the page at which the bookmark was and sat down beside him in her carefully placed chair so she could see him clearly and watch for any signs of improvement. As Emma positioned herself more comfortably, her eyes naturally settled upon his tired face for a split second every now and then. This time, however, his fluttering closed eyelids were faintly open and they watched her, mystified.
She gasped aloud in surprise. “Oh, Charles.”
He swallowed with some effort.
She gripped his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I’ll get Doctor Seymour.” She had since learnt his name.
She felt his fingers squeeze tightly around hers as she tried to pull away.
“St-stay,” he croaked; his throat dry.
Emma was confused and somewhat taken aback but she nodded and sat on the edge of his bed; her hand entwined with his sweaty palm. She leaned over him and caressed his roasting forehead. His eyes followed her as she fussed over him. A strange look in his eyes she could not identify.
“How are you feeling?” she gave as much of a smile as she could.
He attempted to smile wearily and Emma laughed nervously in reply.
“You look terrible,” she whispered. “But so much better than you were,” Emma promised.
He breathed loudly and a small smile appeared on his lips again and she could sense he was writhing in some kind of agony.
Emma bent down and pressed her moist lips against his heated brow; she lingered there for a few moments and felt him sigh deeply. Pulling back, she gazed him intensely in the eye.
“What you did,” she paused, unable to fit words to what she felt and wanted to describe. “was the bravest act I have ever witnessed.”
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady her voice.
“You saved me.” She stated simply.
He smiled again and attempted to speak again; his mouth opening slightly.
The door opened squeakily and both of them looked toward the intruder. Doctor Seymour came in and a huge smile erupted across his face.
“Your Grace,” he addressed
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