Chapter 11
She felt colder and colder in the dream, as though sinking under black ice.
Dimly, she heard the servants crying.
“Hasn’t the doctor come yet?”
“We tried, but all the doctors in the estate were sent to Miss Lester’s rooms. I said Mrs. Padilla is burning with fever and coughing blood. I begged. Mr. Padilla was going to send one, but then Miss Lester started coughing too. He said Mrs. Padilla could wait. Wait? She’s coughing blood—how is she supposed to wait?”
“How could he do this? She loves him so much. She’s done everything for him all these years, and still all he sees is Miss Lester.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“I can’t. It’s not fair.”
A tear slipped from the corner of Katherine’s eye into her hairline.
Yes.
It had never been fair.
When she finally woke, the fever had gone down a little.
Nicholas was sitting beside her bed.
The moment he saw her eyes open, relief flashed across his face.
“Katherine, you’re awake. How do you feel? Are you still hurting?”
She looked at him, her gaze unfocused and hollow.
Under that gaze, he shifted uneasily.
“Lila told me you had a high fever and were coughing blood. I was going to call for a doctor, but Samantha’s condition got worse too. She’s always been delicate. She was dizzy and coughing, and I couldn’t leave her alone, so—”
“You don’t need to explain.”
Her voice was raspy from fever, but her tone remained astonishingly calm.
“This is your estate. You’re the one who decides who gets the doctor. I respect your decision.”
Nicholas choked on the words.
“What do you mean my estate? This is our home,” he said quickly. “I know I handled it badly this time. I know you were wronged.”