Midnight My Love by Anne Marie Novark

his physical yearnings for Robert's sister,
and saw no reason why he couldn't help with her research. He had
some interesting points to share with her in regards to the
George.
    As Damien entered the library, he found
Alexandra seated on the sofa, listening intently to the physician.
She looked up and smiled. Was that relief in her eyes?
    "Rochdale!" she exclaimed. "This is Dr.
Heron. He wants to ask you some questions. I told him Robert was at
your town house for several days before you brought him home, and
you had a London physician examine him. But I don't recall if you
mentioned his name. Dr. Heron wants to know who examined him and
what his prognosis was."
    Damien shook hands with the doctor and took
a seat near Alex. "I called Montague in," he said, stretching his
long legs before him. When Dr. Heron nodded his approval, he
continued, "Montague said Robert needed careful nursing and sent an
attendant to monitor his progress. After a week, Rob was better and
anxious to start home. With the doctor's permission, we set out for
Willowmede. We traveled by easy stages, stopping frequently to rest
and refresh ourselves."
    Damien glanced at Alexandra, who was
attending closely. He looked at the doctor again. "Montague warned
me to keep a careful eye on Robert. He said something about
depression and suicidal tendencies in amputees. I'm concerned about
Rob. He sorely feels his loss and is worried about his fiancée," he
finished tersely.
    Dr. Heron cleared his
throat and frowned. "From my examination of his lordship, I'd say
he is suffering severe depression." When Alexandra gasped, he hurried on. "This is
understandable in such a situation. Lord Turlington lost a
substantial amount of blood and lay in an army hospital for months.
He endured a rough crossing, from what I understand, and the
journey to Willowmede took its toll. Now that he's settled, he
should regain his customary good health. Once he recovers, he will
be better able to accept his disability. I've known Lord Turlington
from the cradle, and I have every confidence he can overcome this
devastating handicap. Surrounded by those who love and support him,
he's sure to make a complete recovery."
    The doctor prepared to take his leave. "Our
first priority is to get his lordship on his feet again.
Unfortunately, I fear fever is setting in. He will need constant
supervision day and night. I've left fever powders to be
administered every four hours. I'm afraid he's likely to worsen
before the fever finally breaks. I'll check on him tomorrow
afternoon. I can send a nurse over if you like." He looked
questioningly at Alexandra.
    She shook her head. "Robert's been
surrounded by strangers for too long. I think we can manage. How
long do you think the fever will last?"
    "I can't say exactly, but I'd estimate three
days or so. It will get worse before it gets better. From the looks
of him, I'd say tonight will tell the tale. Give him the cinchona
bark to reduce the fever. Make him drink plenty of clear liquids
and he'll do. Good luck, Miss Alex." He inclined his head toward
Rochdale. "A pleasure, my lord. Now, don't bother to show me out,"
he said good naturedly, "I know my way."
    Damien watched as Alexandra took a turn
about the room. She went to the escritoire to get a pen and paper,
then resumed her seat. He knew she was distressed about Robert. He
wanted to help relieve her anxiety and ease her burden.
    "I'll take the midnight watch," he said
brusquely. "I never go to bed before dawn. I'll watch over Rob
during the night."
    Alexandra turned grateful eyes toward him.
Damien remembered those green eyes smoldering with passion. He
stood abruptly. "If you need me before then, I'll be in the
observatory." He walked quickly to the door.
    "What about dinner?" Alexandra called after
him.
    Damien stopped and looked back. "Don't stand
on ceremony with me, Miss Turlington. While Robert's so ill,
there's no need for formal meals. Send me up a couple of sandwiches
and some ale. That will