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she watched his face, looking for any sign of pleasure or comfort he was taking from the words. Instead, she saw his brow contract.

Dare she speak? Dare she interrupt? The least she could do was to give him the honor of letting him know she had seen his reaction to the letter. “Is everything well?” she asked.

His eyes flickered to her. “Well enough.” There was another quiet moment, then he said, “Next page,” and after a few seconds, he added, “please.”

The shiver of pleasure that ran across her arms was an unexpected response to such a small word of thoughtfulness. She watched his face again, following his eyes as they moved from one side of the paper to the other.

When the corner of his mouth raised in a smile, she let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d held. He was indeed very handsome when he smiled.

As he finished reading Mr. Kenworthy’s words, Alexander said, “I need to get back to the city. Kenworthy’s fatiguing himself, staying all hours.”

Isabelle said, “Like you do?”

His response was instant. “Like I used to.”

Her heart sank at his dismal tone.

“Like you will again,” she said, her voice gentle. She again became aware of how closely she was sitting to him. She wanted to touch his arm, his hand, but she didn’t dare disturb the tenuous peace they were experiencing.

“Now,” Alexander said, “he’s trying to do the work of two. And he’s not a young man.”

“But he is a capable one. Look at the way he cares for his family,” she said. Thoughts of the Kenworthys’ simple daily happiness gave Isabelle a rare moment of contentment.

“It’s more work than worth keeping that girl at home,” Alexander said. “Their life would be so much simpler if they’d send her away.” The toneless sentence was spoken with a cadence that suggested he had thought the words many times, even if he had not had reason or audience to state them aloud.

Hearing his statement, Isabelle felt as though she had been struck. The idea of sending Glory to an infirmary shocked and offended her.

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Isabelle said. “Glory is a joy and a delight in both her parents’ lives.”

Alexander continued in the same emotionless voice. “She’s an irritant and a drain on their resources, both personal and monetary.”

Isabelle stood. “That’s simply impossible to believe. Mr. and Mrs. Kenworthy adore Glory.” She felt heat climb from her heart up to her cheeks, and her hands fisted.

“Anyone who cannot make a contribution to family or society ought to be sent away and locked up,” Alexander said, and Isabelle realized that they were not really talking about Glory at all.

This was not about the dear girl but about Alexander’s fears of being useless. There was no easy, proper response to make to that comment, but there were many wrong ones. Isabelle chose to say nothing rather than make things worse by giving voice to any of her uncertainties.

“If there’s nothing else,” Isabelle said, “I’ll leave you to rest until Doctor Kelley arrives.” She avoided running from the room, but only just.

Isabelle busied herself with what she could only assume were routine wifely concerns for the following few hours. When Doctor Kelley arrived, she felt herself breathing easier. She met the doctor at the parlor door.

“Ah, good afternoon, Mrs. Osgood,” he said with a smile. “I’d very much appreciate it if you’d join us for the examination. You may be uncomfortable, but it’s time for me to train you.” His eyes twinkled. “There are things you know intrinsically, of course, but I’ll claim the advantage of wisdom and knowledge as far as medical practice goes. After you.” He gestured her inside. “We have a fair few decisions to make today.”

Alexander looked in their direction, and Isabelle could see no obvious lingering anger or annoyance. She waited for the doctor to take a seat next to Alexander before she sat at a short distance.

The doctor performed what had become his daily examination—poking here, prodding there, and a few questions about discomfort.

“We’re going to try sitting up today,” Doctor Kelley said.

“All of us?” Alexander said, derision dripping from his voice.

Undaunted, the doctor gave him a look of impatience. “It will most likely take all of us to get you there.”

Isabelle was pleased to hear the doctor fire back at Alexander. It proved Alexander was capable of receiving censure, even if it would not be from her.

“Come, Mrs. Osgood,” the doctor said. “Let’s see what we can achieve together.” He guided Isabelle’s hands, and the two of them lifted Alexander’s surprisingly heavy body until his torso was mainly upright.

“And how’s that, Alec?” The doctor stood nearby, hands at the ready, and Isabelle wondered if he feared Alexander would tip over.

“Bit easier to breathe,” he said. “Much easier to see what’s happening in the room.”

Doctor Kelley nodded. “Mrs. Osgood, why don’t you go sit beside your husband?”

For a man of gentleness and delicacy, Isabelle thought, he has no subtlety at all.

Alexander’s legs still stretched out across the main surface of the cushions, she placed herself on the couch where he had laid his head for so many days.

The tradeoff was instantly obvious. She was sitting very, very close to him, which felt intrusive and uncomfortable. But, on the other hand, as he was still unable to turn his head, he couldn’t look at her, and she didn’t have to look at him.

Doctor Kelley seated himself in a chair opposite and nodded. “Yes,” he said, as if in answer to an unasked question. “That will do very well.”

“I might fall,” Alexander said, his voice the barest whisper.

“Indeed, you might,” the doctor said. “And that is why your wife is there. She’s in a perfect position to support you.”

Isabelle said nothing, but she watched the doctor as he studied Alexander’s posture and position. After a few minutes, the doctor said, “Take his hand, if you please.”

Feeling herself stiffen, she realized that she’d never of her own volition extended herself to touch him. At least, not

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