Marcus paced back and forth as he waited for the doctor to finish his examination of Rain. She looked terribly small in the large bed, her skin pale and clammy. The fast beating of his heart drummed in his ears. What had happened? She had looked off throughout the evening, but it had got worse and worse as the night went on.

The doctor closed his brown leather satchel, so Marcus immediately walked over to the bed. Taking Rain's chilly hand in his, he looked at the old man.

"What is the matter with her?"

Dr Hill stood from the chair he'd been sitting on and sighed. "I believe she may have mixed opium and alcohol. Perhaps she has been feeling poorly and taken too much laudanum?"

Marcus frowned, unable to recollect any mention of her needing laudanum. Especially not in the quantity that must have been required for this reaction.

"Mixing the two can be terrible, indeed," the doctor said. "Fortunately, she appears to have emptied most of her stomach contents, and that will be her saving grace. She appears stable now and I believe she will recover fine."

"Thank you, doctor." He followed the older man to the door, thanking him again before returning to sit on the side of the bed next to his wife.

She'd been in and out of consciousness since the carriage, and it had scared the hell out of him. The idea that she would have taken too much laudanum didn't feel right. But what other explanation could there be? Had someone found the list after all? Had his name been leaked and there was someone out there seeking revenge by hurting his wife? The questions kept swirling around his head, but he found no answers.

A low groan alerted him to Rain waking again. She shifted in the bed and lifted a hand to her head. When she tried to sit up, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently, but firmly, pushed her back against the mattress.

"Don't sit," he said gruffly. "You've been through an ordeal."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she eyed him groggily. "What happened?" she asked, her voice scratchy.

"You fainted."

Carefully, he propped her up against some pillows, leaving her in a half-sitting position. Bringing a glass of water to her lips, he helped her take a few sips.

"That is preposterous. I never faint." Even in her current state, she looked absolutely appalled at the idea, her upper lip curling in distaste.

He put the glass back on her bedside table before leaning back to look at her. "Have you taken laudanum recently?"

"What? No." She frowned slightly. "My head is pounding, so I wouldn't mind some right now."

"The doctor believes you had an excessive amount and then mixed it with alcohol, which is apparently a disastrous combination that can make you quite ill." The very thought of what could have happened made icy claws tightly squeeze his chest.

"I have taken none. I cannot even remember the last time." She shook her head, then winced and buried her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes with the bottoms of her palms. "Oh, this is the worst headache I have ever had."

Marcus watched her as she leaned her head back against the pillows. There were tiny lines on her face as she reacted to the pain. If she had not taken opium on purpose, how had she ingested it? He would have to investigate with the servants to see who had served her tea that day.

"You are fortunate," he said. "Because you were sick in the carriage, and later at home, the doctor believes you have sufficiently emptied your stomach enough that you should recover."

Her eyes opened again. "I was sick?"

"Yes. On me."

He could see exactly when she noticed he was wearing nothing but a white shirt and black trousers. He had not even taken the time to put on new stockings. She had successfully soaked his shoes in the carriage.

Still staring at his bare foot, which he had brought up on the bed as he sat with his leg bent to be closer to her, she groaned. "Oh no! I am so dreadfully sorry!"

"No apology needed." He shrugged. "If you had not been sick on me, you could have been in a much worse state now."

She smiled weakly. "So it was for the greater good."

He chuckled. "Something like that."

"I don't believe I have heard you chuckle, or laugh for that matter, since before our wedding," she mumbled as she closed her eyes again and leaned back against the pillows. "I thought perhaps you had forgotten how. Not that you ever did much." She yawned, and added drowsily, "I'm sorry for taking your laughter away."

Taking her hand in his, he watched her as she fell back asleep. She had not taken his laughter away. She had given it to him during their courtship. Joy had not been something his father approved of and he could not remember laughing with any sort of abandon before he had met Rain. Her joy and optimism had rubbed off on him, and he had smiled and laughed more than he had in his entire life during the two months of their courtship. She had touched him in ways no one else ever had. And he wished he could let go of his bitterness to find his joy again. With her.

The room was dusky when Rain woke up. For a moment, she couldn't tell if it was because the curtains were drawn or if her eyes were still struggling to see. As she acclimatised to the sparse light, she discovered Marcus asleep in an armchair that he had pulled up close to the bed, his long legs sprawled out before him. In sleep, his face was relaxed, and he looked younger, more innocent. Not as closed off and forbidding.

His white shirt gaped open at the neck, showing a hint of his wide chest underneath. She smiled as she caught sight of his bare feet. Compared to hers, they were the feet of a giant, but she rather liked this slumbering, relaxed version of her husband with no stockings or cravat. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she winced as her whole body ached dully. The previous night was something of a blur, but she knew for a fact she had not had any laudanum. She rarely did.

Glancing at her sleeping husband again, she fought back the urge to touch him. To take advantage of this rare opportunity when he was unguarded. His walls down.

"Marcus?"

No reaction. He appeared to be fast asleep. Perhaps he had been awake a long time and was now catching up on some of that missed sleep. Hesitantly, she reached out and traced his face with her fingertips. She followed the shape of his dark eyebrows, the line of his straight nose and lingered a moment too long on his mouth. The lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper one, something she'd not thought much about before. But then he had not kissed her the way he had lately before, either.

She nearly yelped when he suddenly nipped at her fingers. Pulling her hand back, she stared at him, but he still appeared to be asleep. His breathing was a little lighter than before, but he remained where he was, his eyes closed. She watched as his tongue stole out to lick his lips as if he could taste her touch on them. Part of her wanted to wake him to request their next kiss. If she had not been aching so badly and felt so dirty after being sick and sweating, she might have.

If she had heaved all over Marcus, he probably needed a bath, too. She looked at his wide shoulders and long legs. How did he even fit in a tub? Did they make giant-sized ones? Perhaps he had invested in one of those odd standing shower contraptions. Though why one would want to douse themselves in cold water, she could not fathom.

He shifted in his seat, so she scooted back against the pillows and pulled the covers back over her legs. A moment later, his eyes opened, and he yawned. His dark hair was ruffled from sleep, a few strands falling over his forehead, and he smoothed them back with a hand.

"Good morning," she said, making him look over at her. For a moment, his eyes were unguarded and the warmth in his gaze made her insides do an awkward somersault. Then his impassionate mask slipped into place and he nodded curtly.

"Good evening," he corrected her. "You've been asleep for nearly a full day. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you. I am, however, desperate for a bath."

He stood, rolling his shoulders to loosen them after what she imagined wasn't the most comfortable sleep. It was rather sweet that he had not left her side.

"I will call for one," he said. "And perhaps one for myself. Or would you prefer to eat first? I think it will be best if you stick to tea and toast after last night's ordeal."

Her stomach growled at the mention of food. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth as he added, "And perhaps an egg."

"Please. I feel like I have not eaten in days. But bath first. I can wait a little longer for food, but I need to feel clean."

With a nod, he walked over and rang the bell before returning to sit on the chair next to the bed. His hazel eyes regarded her, and she wished—not for the first time, and most likely not for the last—he wasn't so good at hiding how he felt.

"I'm glad you are all right," he finally said slowly. "You had me worried."

She offered him a slight smile. "Truly? The stoic Duke of Winterbourne was worried?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I am capable of worry."

"Yes, I am coming to realise that you feel things even if you do not show it." And it's incredibly frustrating. She wanted to know how he truly felt about her. Was she only the prize cow he had won or was there something more? He'd asked for ten kisses to save their marriage. But was he only doing it out of pride as he did not want the ton believing him impotent? She had so many questions, and knowing her husband, he was unlikely to offer any answers.

"I..." His brows knotted as he looked down at his hands resting in his lap. "My father tolerated no displays of emotion as I grew up. I quickly learned to mask how I felt. It is not a habit easy to break."

His admission surprised her. It was the first time he'd mentioned his father, the late duke. "That sounds terrible. What of Dash? He is quite different from you."

The only sign that he disliked her bringing his brother up was a slight flexing of his hand. "Dash was the second son. My father was not as interested in his upbringing as he was in mine. Whether that was to my brother's detriment or not, I cannot say."

"You're allowed to have and show emotions. Doing so is not a bad thing," she said softly. "No one would judge you for it."

He leaned back in the chair to look at her, his eyes unreadable. "I honestly do not know how much is my father's doing and how much is me simply... being this way. I am not good at judging the feelings of others either."

She tilted her head to the side. Marcus's face was as impassive as ever, and yet... There was a vulnerability over him that she had not seen before. A hint of uncertainty. "Perhaps," she said. "It is an acquired skill."

"Perhaps," he allowed.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and a maid entered. Marcus quickly and efficiently asked for their supper to be brought to the room and a bath prepared. When the servant disappeared, Rain smiled. "You are staying here to eat with me?"

"I am not willing to leave your side yet," he admitted. "Last night had me worried. You are certain you did not imbibe laudanum or anything similar, and yet you appear to have had it in your body. It makes little sense. I would prefer to stay with you for now."

She cleared her throat and looked down at her hands, her cheeks heating. "Perhaps not while I take a bath."

"We will see."

"What of your own bath?"

He frowned. He obviously had not thought of that.

"I am certain you can leave me alone for the time it takes for you to have a bath." She smiled, but the frown did not fade from his face. "A servant could stay with me."

"What if a servant served you the opium yesterday?"

"If you will not trust our servants... You will not be able to leave my side until this is resolved." She met his gaze. "Why are you suddenly so worried? Is this why you have been watching me from the window in your office?"

He had the grace to look a little guilty as he gave her a curt nod. "Yes."

"That was before this happened." She frowned. "Something must be amiss. Is this why you moved back home? Is your set at the Albany even being refurbished?"

"Yes, but only because I hired someone to do it."

She blinked. He was being unusually forthcoming today. Was it the lack of sleep? "So you've been expecting something to happen?"

He leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I wanted to be prepared if something did."

"Why?"

"Rain..." He reached out and took her hand in his, his eyes searching hers. "What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room."

She nodded, not sure what else to do or say.

"I used to work for the War Office. During the Peninsular War, I was a code breaker under the Quartermaster-General deciphering correspondence we intercepted. After I returned to London, I continued this work for some time whenever they needed my eyes. Recently, a list of people who worked for them in the past—and currently—was stolen, and we fear it may end up in the wrong hands. It already might have, if you are being targeted."

His hand around hers squeezed lightly as she could do nothing but stare at him. "You... You're a spy?"

"Not exactly. But I worked with spies."

She shook her head as if somehow that would make everything make sense. "So... If your name is on this list... Why would someone try to poison me?"

His massive shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I do not know. It could be a coincidence, but I believe little in coincidences. If I was an integral part of putting someone behind bars in the past, it is not beyond the realm of reason that a family member would target someone in my family—someone I care about—for revenge."

A joyless laugh escaped her. "Have they not heard? You do not love me. We have been estranged since the wedding. All of London gossip about us."

"Perhaps they consider losing a wife to still be a terrible thing, estranged or not. Or they meant it for me but by mistake, they brought it to you." He sighed. "In either case, I am not leaving your side until I can be certain that you are safe."

"That seems an impossible task. You will need to sleep and do other things at times."

"I will continue sleeping in this chair."

She shook her head in amazement. He was very stubborn. "Terrible idea. You will be in so much pain."

"Then I will sleep on the floor."

"Marcus. This is madness. You cannot attach yourself to me for every moment of the day."

He gave her a dark look. "Watch me."

~~~~~~