“I was going to, but you got yourself hit on the head and it became something for another day.” He yawned again. “It still is. Now go to sleep.”

She pretended to, but she didn’t. He soon slumbered beside her, however. She listened to his breaths, and hugged the arm draped over her, and dwelled on the poignant emotions his presence raised in her whenever he showed how he cared for her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I demand that I be allowed to leave this chamber.”

Minerva spoke with determination. Her eyes blazed. Beth turned to Chase, holding out her hands like a woman beset by big troubles. “Called for you to talk some sense into her.”

Chase faced Minerva across the chamber, the bed that they had shared for two nights now neatly and crisply made. She wore the undressing gown he had bought her, and had attempted to dress her own hair. One of her ensembles lay on the chair. He doubted Beth had put it there.

She looked much herself. Other than the bruise surrounding the poultice high on her forehead, nothing appeared amiss. Her whole manner spoke of her irritation at her confinement. At most they could hold her here one more day. After that, she might well tie the sheets together to make her escape out the window.

“You agreed that after three days if I felt recovered I could stop being an invalid,” she said.

“I lied, to ensure you rested at least three days. However, if you promise to do it my way, perhaps you can leave this chamber for a short while.”

Beth opened her mouth to object, but shut it just as quickly. Minerva eyed him as if to see if he was trying to trick her.

“What is your way?”

“You will only go down the stairs with me. You can take some air in the garden if you dress warmly. And you can go for a carriage ride with me this afternoon, and a short walk, if you swear you will admit when you get tired or if at any time you are in distress of the slightest amount.”

“Your way doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“The alternative is we lock you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He said nothing to that. She assessed his mood with a long look. “Fine, but it is very unfair. You are allowed to get hit on the head and still go about your business, but if I get hit on the head I become an invalid. Beth, help me to dress. I intend to eat breakfast down below.”

He stepped out while they took care of that, then escorted Minerva down the stairs, watching for any indications that her balance did not hold. In the little morning room, food awaited. She helped herself to a full plate, then sat to enjoy her freedom.