It was not only restlessness that she experienced this moment, but also sharp annoyance. “You did not rest in bed after you were hit on the head, so why should I have to?”

“That was different.”

“It wasn’t. Not at all.”

“You bled profusely.”

“You bled enough. Head wound, you said. They always bleed a lot, you said.”

He tried to appear sympathetic, but only looked stern. “You were unconscious. There could be damage inside your head.”

“You were unconscious. Did you not worry about damage inside your head?”

“I could tell there was none. And I was only unconscious for a few moments.”

“It was many moments. And if you could tell there was no damage, so can I. My headache is almost gone, and the light does not bother me. Watch, I’ll stare right at the lamp.” She did just that. He reached over and moved it so she no longer could.

“I am telling you it is not the same,” he said firmly.

She punched the coverlet again. “It is not the same because I am a woman, is what you mean.”

“Exactly. Also because if anything happened to you because you ignored the doctors’ advice, I would never forgive myself. So indulge me, and do as you were told.”

She didn’t like it, but he had a look about him that did not encourage more rebellion. “I will stay resting in bed three days. However, if after that I am myself again, and have no pains or anything else, I will decide I am fully recovered and I want you to admit as much too.”

He closed his eyes in forbearance, but nodded.

“Now please move the lamp back next to the bed so I am not in shadows.”

A big sigh, but he did so.

She took his hand in hers. The knuckles looked red. “Where were you?”

“Out and about.”

She ran her thumb over those knuckles. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I brought Jeremy. His mission was to make sure I didn’t, much as I wanted to. There were some fisticuffs, however, in order to subdue him.”

She pictured him walking into that fetid chamber, hard and angry, with Jeremy at his side. Mr. Marin must have panicked at the sight of two men looking for vengeance. “What did you do with him?”

“I gave him a choice. He could enter one carriage that was waiting, that would take him to the establishment in the country where his cousin hoped he could be treated. Or he would enter another one, and be taken to the magistrate to answer for attempting to kill you.”

“I trust he chose to go to the country.”

“As I said, there were fisticuffs. I’m sure when it was over, he agreed with me that would be the better decision.”