He stared into space and Clover wondered what a half-life it was for him, to be perpetually living in his brother’s shadow. If he wouldn’t even hit some powder without Kit . . . She remembered his unexpected blow-up at Ari the other morning, as his wishes had been subverted to Kit’s training regime. He almost subsumed himself . . .

He jumped up suddenly. ‘I should let you rest. I never meant to disturb you. I just wanted to check you were okay.’

‘That’s really good of you, Beau, thanks,’ she smiled. ‘I appreciate it.’ It was more than his brother had bothered to do.

‘Let me know if you need anything?’

‘Of course.’

He gave her one last look and shut the door behind him.

Clover settled back into the pillows thoughtfully. Her mind had caught on something he had said – about Kit feeling he’d been set up. Ambushed. Were there people out to make Kit look bad?

Because if so, she wanted to meet them.

Chapter Thirteen

‘No! You’re supposed to be in bed!’ Matty said, barring the door.

‘And if I don’t leave this room, I will go mad!’ Clover argued, simply tickling Matty lightly on the waist to get her to drop her arms. She walked past and out into the hall, turning to go up the stairs. That alone felt thrilling. She felt like an escapee – to see another, different set of four walls! She had spent three full days in bed obediently following doctor’s orders but her temperature was normal again and enough was enough. She had to move. She had to work.

The dressing on her eye had finally come off but the eye was still swollen shut. It was almost pleasingly gruesome – some of the swelling had gone down, but it was a very deep plum colour that bled into a curdling yellow at the edges. Clover was of the view that if she had to have an injury, it ought to look as bad as it felt; there was nothing worse than feeling grim while looking great. Matty could scarcely maintain eye contact, which she took as a good sign.

‘Well, I’m walking behind you in case you fall,’ Matty said sulkily.

‘If I do fall, I don’t fancy your chances for being strong enough to catch me. Maybe just leave a pillow at the bottom of the stairs?’

‘Ha bloody ha. You know, your humour can be quite cutting sometimes. You’re like the patient equivalent of an angry drunk.’