When he looked up, it was to see astonishment clearly etched on Lena’s face as her gaze whipped between him and the countess several times as though she were cataloguing features.

“She’s dreadfully ill. I’ve sent for the physician. Can you assist me in making her comfortable?”

“Yes, of course.”

While he removed the countess’s shoes, Lena loosened buttons in order to loosen stays.

“I’m so sorry,” the countess muttered over and over. “The salmon must have been bad.”

“Don’t be troubled, my lady,” he told her. “The doctor will be here shortly.”

“I didn’t want him to take you.”

After bringing a blanket over to her, he settled at her side and clasped her hand. “You’re not to worry yourself over it.”

“He told me you would be well cared for.”

“I was. Ettie Trewlove was a marvel of a mum.”

“Please don’t hate me.”

“I would never.” His father, yes. This woman, no.

He was aware of Lena pouring water from the pitcher into the bowl at the washstand. Soon after, she came over, eased down onto the bed, and began wiping the woman’s brow.

“Your Grace, I’d not expected to see you here.”

“Perhaps you’d be so kind as not to mention my presence to anyone.”

“I’m never one to gossip. I am, however, utterly embarrassed to put you to such bother.”

“My lady, it’s my privilege to tend to you. I’m only sorry you’re feeling so poorly.”

With a little cry, the countess rolled onto her side, brought her knees up, and pressed a hand to her belly. “I may retch again.”

Aiden grabbed a bin and brought it over. “Do what you must. I’m going to fetch some milk. We’ll see if that will help to settle your stomach.”

He was quick about popping down to the kitchens to grab a pitcher of milk and a glass. When he returned to his rooms, he was alarmed to see her looking frailer, paler. It didn’t help matters that Lena appeared more worried.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slid his arm beneath her slender shoulders and lifted her slightly, holding the glass against her lips. “Here, my lady, drink this.”

With a grimace, she slowly sipped.

“That’s it. Just a little at a time.” He cooed with encouragement, praising her further.

After she drank a good bit and shook her head, he set the glass aside and eased her back down to the pillows. With her cloth, Lena wiped gently at the countess’s mouth.

Moaning softly, Lady Elverton closed her eyes. “Will you tell me of your childhood, Mr. Trewlove?”