He shifted slightly-she managed to drag her lips free and gasp: "Richard! You're not strong enough!"

He raised his head and looked down at her-as if what she'd just said was utterly impossible-then he hesitated, considered, then groaned, grimaced, closed his eyes, and rolled off her.

"Unfortunately, much as it pains me to admit it, I think you might be right."

"Of course, I'm right!" Struggling up on one elbow, Catriona tugged the covers back over him. "You've been at death's door-literally!-for five days. You're not simply going to open your eyes and"-she gestured wildly-"get right back into things."

He caught her eye and waggled his brows at her; ignoring her blush, she humphed. "You just stay there and rest." She went to slide away, to back off the bed, but his arm, around her, didn't give. She looked at his face.

"I'll stay here," he said, gently, reasonably, "provided you stay with me." Catriona frowned; inexorably, he drew her closer. "You need to rest, too." Drawing her down, back into his arms, he settled her head on his shoulder, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Just let me hold you while you sleep."

He did. Swamped by relief so deep it shook her, touched that his last conscious thoughts, and now his first, had been for her, wrapped in his arms, with him safe beside her, Catriona slept.

Chapter 17

"I am not an invalid!" Richard eyed the mushy food on the tray balanced across his thighs with disgust.

"You are," Catriona declared. "And Cook made that especially for you-she's an expert at building people up."

"I don't need building up." His expression mutinous, Richard poked at the greyish mass with his fork. "I need letting up."

"I think you'll find you're mistaken."

Richard looked up. "Honoria!" His sister-in-law swept in, clearly intending to lend Catriona her support; Richard glanced back at the doorway, and to his relief saw the shadow he wanted darkening the door. "Thank God-come in commonsense."

Brows rising, Devil strolled in. "I don't know that I've ever been called 'common' before." He grinned. "You need a shave."

"Never mind that-have you seen what they're feeding me?"

Devil looked. "Better you than me, brother mine."

"You have to save me." Richard pointed to the mushy mass. "You can't leave me to this fate."

Straightening, Devil looked across the bed-at Catriona, staring mulishly, arms folded; at his wife, her expression implacable, her fine eyes on him. "Hmm-actually, in this case, I think I must defer to higher authority."

Richard stared at him. "You've never done that before."

"Ah-but you weren't married before." Strolling around the bed, Devil collected Honoria in one arm and turned toward the door. Looking back, he added, "And neither was I. I'll come back after lunch."

Richard glared at the empty doorway, flicked a glance at Catriona, then looked down at the mush on his plate. He scooped up a forkful and ate. Swallowing, he frowned at his wife. "I'm only doing this for you. you know."

"Good." Some moments later, she added: "All of it."

Richard complied. Aside from anything else, the food tasted a lot better than it looked-and he was hungry enough to eat a horse.

Both Devil and Honoria returned after lunch, after he'd cleared the tray and Catriona had taken it away.

"I have to say that seeing your eyes open is a great improvement." Devil perched on the end of the bed. "I've had quite enough of watching over you while you sleep."

Richard grinned. Devil was three years older; they'd shared a nursery-his comment harked back to the untold nights when, scared of the dark, he'd only fallen asleep because he'd known Devil was there to protect him from imagined monsters.

"You gave us a shock." Honoria leaned down and kissed his stubbled cheek. "At least you had the good sense to marry a lady who could save you."

Richard smiled and accepted the compliment graciously. Over the next half hour, they exchanged family news, heavily biased toward the emerging talents of one Sebastian Sylvester Cynster, Marquess of Earith, Devil's heir.

"We would have brought him," Honoria declared, "but we didn't know what the state of things here might be."

That, of course, was the cue for Richard to fill them in, which he did in glowing terms, quite unable to contain his satisfaction on that score-his happiness in his new life. "Now you're here, I'll be able to show you around."

"Once you're released from durance vile." Devil nodded at the bed.

"Tomorrow," Richard said.

Devil grimaced. "Don't get your hopes up. You didn't seem too strong while we were walking you yesterday."

"Walking me…?" Richard frowned, then shook his head. "I didn't even know you were here…" Still frowning, he glanced at Devil. "Actually, I do remember-was it you who warned me Maman was coming?"

Devil grinned. "We were testing to see if you'd respond."

Richard shuddered. "Just as long as it's not true." He caught Devil's eye. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

Devil raised his brows exaggeratedly. "What do you think?"

Rising, Honoria shook out her skirts. "Naturally, we left a note."

Devil's head snapped around. "We did?"

Honoria stared at him. "Well, of course. We couldn't simply leave and not tell Helena, not even leave a message-she is his mother, after all."

Richard groaned and fell back against his pillows.

Honoria turned her gaze on him. "She was away with the Ashfordleighs-she'd think it very strange to return to Somersham and find Sebastian alone with the staff. So I simply explained and told her not to worry."

Devil raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Honoria-"

Sudden shouts from outside cut across his words; a second later, the rattle of carriage wheels and the sharp clack of hooves rose from the courtyard.

Richard groaned again; Devil grimaced.

Honoria stared at them. "It can't be."

"It can," Devil assured her.

"It is," Richard gloomily prophesied.

It was. In the courtyard, a cavalcade of two carriages with outriders drew up.

Hearing the commotion as she crossed the front hall on her way back to Richard's side, Catriona went out onto the front porch to investigate.

The scene in the courtyard was bewildering-as if a houseparty from London had lost its way and turned up at the manor. Coachboys, outriders, grooms and maids rushed hither and yon, opening carriage doors and setting steps in place, tugging at the straps that secured bags and trunks to the backs and tops of the carriages. A tall, exceedingly elegant gentleman stepped down from the second carriage; he cast a swift glance about the teeming courtyard-his gaze halted, and lingered, on her, before returning to the scene of chaos about the first carriage. Despite his fairer coloring-brown hair, not black-Catriona felt certain the gentleman was another Cynster.

Just as she felt certain the small, dark-and-silver-haired lady he helped down from the first carriage was the Dowager Duchess of St. Ives-Helena, Richard's stepmother. With the brisk energy of a whirlwind, the Dowager waved the elegant gentleman back to his own carriage, where a second lady was waiting to descend. Behind the Dowager, two young ladies, their lowered hoods revealing a wealth of golden curls, were gaily piling out of the first carriage. Claiming the arm of one of her grooms, the Dowager made straight for the front porch, her cloak billowing about her.

She came up the front steps with the force of a military charge. "My dear!"

Catriona only just had time to brace herself; flinging her arms wide, the Dowager enveloped her in a warm embrace.

"Now you may tell me he is better-he is better, is he not? But of course, he is! You would not otherwise be standing here so calmly, welcoming a garrulous old woman!" Green eyes twinkling, the Dowager hugged her again, then released her; holding both her hands wide, she stepped back and, with every evidence of shrewd consideration, quickly looked her over.

"Oh, yes!" Looking up, the Dowager caught Catriona's eye. "You will do very well for him, I think." She smiled, brilliantly. "And you will not let him down-you will always be there for him, yes?" For one instant, green and hazel eyes held, and touched, then the Dowager beamed. With Gallic exuberance, she kissed Catriona on both cheeks. "Welcome to the family, my dear."

Touched to the heart by the profound love that shone from the Dowager's eyes, Catriona blinked rapidly. "Thank you ma'am."

"Helena," the Dowager firmly declared. "I am Helena to both my sons' wives. But tell me-Devil and Honoria have arrived, have they not? And how is Richard-is he eating!? Has he risen!? Has-"

"Aunt Helena, you're liable to give poor Catriona a very strange notion of the family."

Turning, Catriona beheld the elegant gentleman with a graceful lady on his arm. They both smiled warmly; he bowed. "Vane Cynster, my dear-and I assure you we don't all rattle on so."

"I am not 'rattling on', " Helena declared. "I am merely exercising the right of any mother to learn of her son's health."

"But he isn't about to die, is he?" The question came from one of the blonde beauties, now lined up behind the Dowager.

"Surely not Richard?" The second young lady fixed Catriona with huge blue eyes. "But you're a healer aren't you? You'd save him."

There was an element of absolute confidence in that last, uttered with a nod that touched Catriona anew.