Elle honked like a goose when she blew her nose. “A hothouse? How do you keep it warm enough? How did I not know about it?”
“The design and location greatly aid in the process, and it is heated with a fire during nights. I would be surprised if you did know of it, as it is located in the kitchen gardens.”
The pair was silent as Elle struggled to sit upright in the bed. When she was appropriately situated Elle ruefully smiled at Severin. “You were right, I caught a cold.”
Severin acknowledged the comment by tipping his head forward.
“It’s not so bad. Last time I was ill it was in the middle of a rainy season and I was stranded outside. That was a wretched time. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever had so many concoctions poured down my throat before,” Elle said, her head lolling to the side. “As much as it surprises me, I think some of them actually work.”
“Duval wished for me to inform you that there is a ready supply of sugar and aqua vitae, should you need a way to stop coughing,” Severin said, gesturing to a tray that held a bowl of sugar, a spoon, and a glass bottle.
“That’s how you found out? Duval told you?” Elle asked, squinting at the prince. It was hard to see him in the dimly lit room.
“No. I inquired after you when you did not appear at dinner,” Severin said, uncomfortably shifting.
“You missed me!” Elle crowed.
“The wretched dog missed you,” Severin dryly said. “I don’t believe he let go of my waistcoat the entire meal.”
“Poor Jock. Emele won’t let him come in my room while I’m sick,” Elle sighed.
Severin shifted when silence blanketed the room. “Is there anything you need or want? Is there anything that would make your illness more pleasant?”
“I don’t think so. Emele is doing her best to make me comfortable. She feels guilty, the poor thing. I am happy that you came to visit, though,” Elle said. “The flowers are beautiful.”
Severin bowed slightly—Elle could tell only because the white cuffs of his dark waistcoat dipped lower. “You are welcome,” he paused. “I should take my leave.”
Elle’s smile dimmed. “Of course. Have a pleasant evening.” She watched Severin’s dark shape slip to the door, and closed her eyes. She startled when there was a thump at her bedside.
Severin placed an armchair a short distance from her bed and settled into it. “You will not require conversation,” he said, pulling a small book from inside his waistcoat.
Elle mutely shook her head.
Severin nodded. “Go to sleep,” he added as an afterthought before turning all of his attention to his book.
Elle watched Severin read, occasionally sneezing and sniffling. The prince stirred only to add logs to the fireplace, and eventually Elle’s eyelids sank and she again drifted off to sleep.
A week later Elle laughed as she hurried up a hallway. Jock scurried after her, barking in sheer joy—although he occasionally stopped to snap at a decorative suit of armor or painting.
“Come on, Jock,” Elle called. The little dog was halfway down the hallway, panting heavily.
A door creaked open and Severin exited his study. “You are making a great deal of noise considering you have just recovered from a cold.”
“I’m celebrating the recovery and the regaining of my independence. One cannot celebrate quietly,” Elle said.
“I don’t suppose you do much of anything quietly,” Severin dryly said.
“Correct. Jock!”
Severin winced at Elle’s shout, but Jock ran the remaining distance to Elle’s side.
“Where are you going?” Elle asked as the fluffy dog plopped down at her feet.
“The library. I need some research materials.”
“In that case Jock and I shall accompany you,” Elle gallantly offered.
“I am surprised your keeper has released you. Does she know you are raising a racket?” Severin asked as they started down the hallway. Jock ran ahead of them.
“Emele gave me her blessing to run free. She is occupied, supervising the cleaning of my room.”
“Ah, that would explain your celebration.”
“You should be happy. You will not be forced to dine alone,” Elle said.
“I will not dignify that comment with a response,” Severin said, pulling a chuckle out of Elle.
“If anything, I should—whoop!” Elle said as they reached the main floor and Severin pulled her back in the hallway.
“Avert your eyes,” Severin said, his voice quiet.
“What?”
“The mongrel has found Heloise.”
“I don’t understand,” Elle said, craning to see the housekeeper and Jock.
The well groomed Papillon barked as he flew down the stairs, bounding up to Heloise. The tall, stork-like housekeeper had her hands planted on her hips, but when Jock circled her she crouched and held out her arms.
The dog launched himself at her, and she held him like a baby, tickling his tummy as she stood. A smile, the first smile Elle had ever seen Heloise display, was on her face.
Elle stared at the spectacle. “Incredible,” she finally said.
