Her grandfather introduced them perfunctorily. “This is the captain’s friend, Gabriel Jennings.”
She knew him by reputation. A disgraced captain was always much talked about. She nodded to him and wrung her hands. “Can you help him?”
He squinted down at Felix, and the stench of gin reached her nose. She took a closer look at Felix’s friend as he swayed and realized he was utterly disguised, hardly in a condition to be fit for proper company let alone a sickroom. The man shrugged. “No need to worry.”
She had hoped for so much more. However, Jennings was here and he had answers Sally needed. “Why do you say that?”
“He has suffered this before.” Jennings strolled around restlessly; he leaned right over Felix’s face and then shrugged again. “He is not catching.”
Sally sagged against the bed, resting her hands over Felix’s thighs, and sent up a prayer of thanks. He would live. That was all she needed to hear.
Jennings stopped beside the duke. “Was that all? You interrupted a pleasant afternoon of drinking, I will have you know.”
Rutherford’s eyes grew flinty. “Not quite.”
Jennings heaved a sigh, then strolled away, inspecting the empty decanters on a nearby table. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and turned back to face them. “You know that fellow you sent after me is lucky I was in a good mood today and did not have a sword at hand. What more can I give in the service of my country, Your Grace?”
“Time. I want to hire your services for the day and tonight.”
Jennings inspected his fingernails. “It will cost you.”
“Insolent pup.” Her grandfather barked out a laugh. “Sally, you can leave.”
She glanced at Felix’s flushed face. She could not leave him. “But Felix…”
“No argument. If the captain is soon to be on the mend, you have no business remaining. Jennings will stay, and Rodmell can take care of them both very well indeed.” He came closer, grasped her arm lightly, and turned her toward the door—away from her lover. “Do you want Lady Ellicott to discover you here? I do not think she would agree that your intended sacrifice in caring for the captain is a harmless activity for an unmarried woman. She is already looking for you.”
He opened the door and pushed her out so hard she stumbled over her own feet.
Rodmell darted inside, carrying yet more ice chips. He glanced back once, shrugged, and then kicked the door shut with his foot. She straightened her gown and let out a huff, scowling at her treatment.
What was she to do with herself now? She would still worry for Felix until he had recovered his feet. But that begged the question: if she had been so ready to put her life at risk to care for Felix, could it really be over for them?
If he died, she would never have an answer. But if he lived, she had some hard decisions to make, and soon.
Chapter Nineteen
Felix smoothed his cravat into place, embarrassed and ashamed to have worried so many people unnecessarily. He was seated at the duke’s dining table for breakfast again, still pestered by questions, but at least he could answer them now with better clarity. “I do not know what it is, in truth. I was afflicted some years ago with a fever-like malady after shore leave in the West Indies. It comes and goes on its own schedule. This time was the worst it has ever been in a long time.”
“You scared us all to death,” the duke grumbled, stabbing into his steak with more enthusiasm and even less finesse than a midshipman in the heat of his first battle. “And at my age I do not appreciate the experience.”
Jennings pulled a face. “We had our close calls with fevers a time or two on board the Essex. Not much can be done but bury your dead when they do not recover.”
Jennings and the duke made an odd pair of breakfast companions. They rubbed each other wrong Felix could tell, and yet the duke did not have Jennings removed and Jennings did not seem inclined to leave.
“I should not have been here,” he agreed, weary but well once more. He would undoubtedly lose his command, but there was nothing to be done about that. He had fought hard to manage the illness without detection until now, and he could not very well deny a report of incompetence made by a respected and influential duke. Rutherford was sure to tell his son, Felix’s admiral, all about the situation upon his eventual return to Newberry Park. “I will pack and leave immediately.”
“About time,” Jennings exclaimed, throwing down his napkin and standing.
“You can go whenever you want, Jennings. However, I am not finished with Felix, and he must stay.” The duke scowled. “What is it with you men in the service? You have not the least bit of patience for the way things must be done.”
“But my health is a black mark against me. Am I not unfit for command?”
The duke studied him until his skin prickled with alarm. “By your account, and that of Jennings too, your health is no different than it has been for the past few years when you have captained your ship with outstanding zeal for His Majesty.”
Felix was completely confused. “You do not think this illness affects my ability to command? I was insensible for two days.”
The duke patted his napkin to his lips. “What do you normally do on board when the fever comes?”