To Have and to Hold (12 page)

“We need to send
for the Doctor Sir.”
 
Mrs Holcombe
murmured, not liking the greying tinge of the lady’s complexion.

“We can’t send
anyone out in this it would be suicide to do so.”
 
Dominic murmured.
 
“Even if we could get someone there, the
Doctor wouldn’t make the trip here no matter what I offered him.”
 
He cursed the atrocious weather but knew he
was going to go anyway.
 
Not to do so was
unthinkable given this new turn of events.

“I’ll go and get
some different medication.
 
If I describe
her condition, he may be able to give us something to assist her.”

“But Sir-
“
 
Mrs
Holcombe was
aghast at his proposition.

“I have
to.”
 
Dominic’s tone brooked no
argument.
 
He would go quietly mad if he
had to sit around and wait for her to die.
 
He had to do everything he could to help her.

Within moments,
he had left the house.

The skies were
brightening with the first glimpse of dawn by the time a snow-covered Dominic
appeared shivering at the kitchen doors of
Tavistock
Hall.
 
With growing dread, he entered the
house, praying silently that he wouldn’t be greeted by the news that Isobel had
passed away while he was gone.
 

“Mrs
Holcombe?”
 
He murmured raising a
querying brow at Cook as he stalked through the kitchens.

“We are upstairs
Sir, with the young miss.”
 
Dominic took
the stairs two at a time, ignoring the clumps of snow that fell from his cloak
as he stalked through the house.
  
Easing
open the door, his heart thumped heavily in his chest as he was assailed by a
wall of heat billowing out of the room.
 
Sweat beaded on his brow as he quickly removed his cloak and boots as he
made his way towards the bed.
 
A quick
survey of Isobel showed her to be the same waxy complexion she had been
earlier.
 
The awful rattle in her chest
was still alarmingly harsh in the silence of the room.
 
He didn’t need to ask Mrs Holcombe to know
there had been no improvement.

Removing the
bottle from his cloak, within moments Isobel had her first spoon of
tincture.
 
It was greenish in colour and
smelt vile.
 
Dominic shuddered as he
looked warily at the murky concoction.
 
He wasn’t surprised when Isobel coughed and spluttered.
 
It made him want to throw up just by looking
at it.
 
Still, if it improved her
condition, she would drink it by damn, Dominic thought worriedly as he placed
the bottle beside the bed.
 

Exhaustion
swamped him as the ravages of the night began to catch up with him.
 
“I’ll get you some breakfast Sir.”
 
Mrs Holcombe murmured weariness lacing her
own voice as she made for the door.

“Not for me Mrs
Holcombe,” Dominic murmured certain he would not be able to manage
anything.
 
“Get yourself some rest now
and thank you.”
 
He shot the woman a
grateful smile as she left and quietly took his place beside Isobel upon the
bed.
 
Gathering her
into his arms he
settled into a careful slumber.
 
Whatever
the day before them held in store, he would not be parted from her again.

Isobel became
aware of a strange murmuring around her. It seemed faint and hazy, but it
sounded vaguely like someone talking.
 
If
only she could make out what they were saying.
 
She wondered if it was one of ‘those’ dreams again where Dominic came to
her but there was no swirling mist.
 
She
took a deep breath, wincing a little at the tightening band across her
chest.
 

Feeling more
comfortable and at peace than she had been for some considerable time, she lay
there for several moments and simply enjoyed the luxurious softness of the
pillow behind her and the resplendent comfort of the sheets surrounding her.
 
She was lovely and warm, something she had
not felt in such a long time.
 
Frowning
slightly she was aware of a sense of darkness pervading her contentment and
began to feel uncomfortable.
 
Vague
snatches of darkness, shadows and strange faces began to filter through her
thoughts until she felt quite panicked.
 
Where was she?
 
How long had she
been there?
 
Had she really been with
Dominic?

Quickly, she
opened her eyes, wincing at the bright daylight that permeated the room.

“Isobel?”
 
His achingly familiar voice was husky and so
very close.
 
Turning her head sideways
her gaze met and held his green gaze.
 
Softly, she smiled at him.
 

“Thank
God!”
 
She frowned at his heartfelt
epithet and watched as he lowered his forehead to rest briefly upon the back of
her hand.
 

“Dominic?”
 
She murmured aware her voice was hoarse and
dry.
 

“We nearly lost
you.”
 
Dominic murmured.
 
His voice quivered with suppressed emotion as
he fought to control the delight coursing through him.
 
    

“Lost me?”
 
Isobel queried in confusion.
 
“But I am right here!”
 
She frowned as she considered his words.
 
Glancing around the room, she was aware of
the familiar comfort that met her interested gaze.
 
“Where am I by the way?”
 
She murmured taking in the graceful opulence
of the room before her.

“Home,
my darling.
 
Where you belong.”
 
Dominic murmured placing a tender kiss upon
the back of her hand.
 
“
Tavistock
Hall.”
 

Isobel frowned
as events flitted through her mind. She couldn’t be sure what she could
remember was fact or something her fuddled mind had created.
 
Warily, she glanced down at her plain cotton
night rail.

“How long have I
been at
Tavistock
Hall?”
 
Isobel murmured biting her lip warily.
 

“Three weeks
now.”
 
Dominic replied
,
his face breaking out into a smile as her eyebrows shot up incredulously.
 
God she was beautiful.

“T-three
weeks?”
 
Her voice was as weak as her eyes were wide
and incredulous.
 

Dominic nodded
not wanting to remind her how desperate her situation had been.
  
The memory of the last few days was too raw
and painful at the moment.
 
“Your
situation was poor.”
 
He murmured and
allowed the conversation to lapse between them briefly.

Isobel felt her
energies start to wane and fought to stop her eyelids from drooping.
 
“I feel so very tired, yet I cannot remember
anything.
 
Why is that?”
 
She frowned at him in consternation.

“You have been
seriously ill my darling.
 
You have had
us all worried.”
 
Easing himself to sit
beside her he tenderly tucked an errant curl behind her ear before placing his
lips there.
 
“I am so very glad you are
to be well again.”
 
He murmured softly
before kissing a tender kiss upon the soft skin at the temple.
 
Closing his eyes for a few moments he simply
rejoiced in being able to absorb the essence of her.
 

“You kept giving
me some foul drink.”
 
Isobel murmured
closing her eyes as sleep began to claim her.
 
She raised one tired eyelid and spied his surprised gaze before slowly
shaking her head.
   

After several
moments, Dominic was certain she had once again fallen asleep only to jump with
alarm.
 
“Why am I in your room and not in
the sick room, or guest room?”
 
Her voice
held no accusation, just mild curiosity.
 

“We do not have
a sick room here at
Tavistock
my dear,” He replied
pushing himself away from the bed.
 
“The
main suite is where you belong now you are here.”
 
His voice was matter of fact and brooked no
argument.

“But I am a
guest.”
 
Isobel argued, silently cursing
the exhaustion that once again gripped her.
 

“Not at
Tavistock
darling.
 
You will never be simply a guest here.”
 
She tried to take in the significance of his words but found her eyelids
just wouldn’t co-operate.
 
Making a
mental note to ask him about it later, she once again fell into a deeply
healing sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Three weeks
later Isobel was feeling decidedly out of sorts.
 
Despite her weakness being confined to bed
was boring to say the least, and she longed to be outside in the fresh
air.
 
She had seemingly spent most of the
first few weeks at Dominic’s home either eating or sleeping but could remember
very little about it.
 

For the past few
days, she had been mostly awake and was now fighting growing frustration at her
lack of activity.
 
She was so very sick
of being tired.
  
Days were spent just lying
abed and she felt more exhausted than she had when she had been walking all
day!
 
The wracking cough seemed to be
getting worse instead of better.
 
It took
every ounce of effort just to breathe, something she had managed to do so
easily for all of her life seemed just so damned difficult.
 
If she ate any more of that infernal broth
Cook insisted on sending up, she would throw the next bowl out of the window
and be done with it!
 
Aaahhhh
!
 
She fought the urge to thump her fists
against the bed in temper as she glared moodily out of the window at the
snow-covered ground.
 

Dominic, bless
his heart, was becoming a pest.
 
Whenever
she awoke he was seated beside the bed, either stroking her hair or holding her
hand.
 
Always present
while she slept, always waiting.
 
On
a couple of occasions, she had awoke to find him softly snoring away, dark
shadows beneath his eyes testament to his own tiredness he refused to succumb
to.
 

However,
whenever she had awoken he had remained with her for a few minutes of desultory
conversation.
 
He gently reminded her of
the circumstancing surrounding their meeting in the village and Isobel’s memory
provided the rest.
 
Patiently, he had
answered her plethora of questions as frankly as he could; carefully filling in
the parts she just couldn’t remember.
 
He
would sit and converse with her for quite a long time before taking his leave,
ostensibly to allow her to rest.
 
He
would dine with her beside the bed and would gently tease smiles out of her
when she was feeling decidedly glum; however, she always considered there was
something he was waiting for.
 
Something
he was withholding from her yet she was damned if she knew what it was.
 
Nor did she know how to ask him.