Oh, sweet Lord, thank you. She could have sung hallelujahs. She could have danced a reel around the room all by herself. She could have fallen upon her knees and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving.

But she merely lifted a cup to his lips. “Are you thirsty?”

He nodded without ever taking his eyes from hers. When he had swallowed, he whispered, “Don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” George replaced the cup on the bedside table. “They’re tears of joy.”

He watched her a few minutes longer; then his eyes closed again, and he fell asleep.

She put her hand to his neck as she had innumerable times over the last terrible week. She’d done it so often that it had become habit. The blood beneath his skin beat strong and steady. Harry murmured at her touch and shifted.

George sighed and rose. She spent an hour in a luxurious, slow bath and took a nap that somehow lasted until nightfall. When she woke, she dressed in a yellow dimity gown with lace at the elbows and requested that her supper be brought to Harry’s room.

He was awake when she entered his room, and she felt her heart skip. Such a small thing, seeing his eyes alert, but it made all the difference in her world.

Someone had helped him to sit up. “How’s Will?”

“He’s fine. Will is staying with Bennet Granville.” George went to open the curtains.

The sun was dying, but even that little light made the room seem less gloomy. She made a mental note to have the maids open the one window in the morning to get rid of the stuffy sickroom odor.

She came back beside the bed. “Apparently, Will hid when they took you and then ran all the way back to West Dikey to tell the Cock and Worm’s landlord what had happened. Not that the landlord could do much.”

“Ah.”

George frowned at the thought of Harry in that cell being beaten every day with no one to help him. She shook her head. “Will was most anxious about you.”

“He’s a good lad.”

“He told us what happened that night.” George sat down. “You saved his life, you know.”

Harry shrugged. Obviously he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Would you like some beef tea?” She removed the cover to the tray of food the maids had already brought.

On her side was a plate of roast beef, steaming in juice and gravy. There were potatoes and carrots and a savory pudding. On his side of the tray stood a single cup of beef tea.

Harry eyed the food and sighed. “Beef tea would be very nice, my lady.”

George brought the cup to his face, intending to hold it as she had before while he drank from it, but he took the cup from her fingers. “Thank you.”