Chapter 232

Evelyn answered indifferently, "Nothing."

A complicated gleam flickered in Nathaniel's eyes.

Their gazes locked, tension thickening the air between them.

Abruptly, Nathaniel coughed into his fist, his face contorting in discomfort. Evelyn's brows knitted together.

"Sir, are you ill?"

Nathaniel waved her off with a scowl. "It's nothing."

She pressed two fingers to his wrist, feeling the erratic pulse beneath his skin. Her frown deepened.

The cave had been damp and freezing. Of course he'd caught a chill after giving her his jacket last night.

"You're running a fever. Sweat it out under extra blankets tonight—you'll feel better by morning."

"All that from taking my pulse?" Nathaniel studied her with renewed interest. He remembered how she'd diagnosed poison that time after Cassandra's cooking disaster.

Evelyn shrugged. "Basic diagnostics."

"Where'd you learn that?"

"Not formally." She tucked a stray lock behind her ear. "The convent where I grew up had a sister who practiced folk medicine. I picked up things watching her treat villagers."

"A convent?" Nathaniel's forehead creased. "Why were you there as a child?"

"My father—" Evelyn's voice hitched. She bit her lip.

The words tasted like ash. Sebastian's revelation about Gregory not being her real father still burned.

"My stepmother didn't want me around. They shipped me off to relatives, then foster families." Her laugh held no mirth. "I was the unwanted parcel everyone kept passing along. Eventually, they pooled money to dump me at that convent."

Nathaniel's chest constricted at her flippant delivery. His fingers twitched before threading through her hair in an uncharacteristic gesture.

"No one's sending you away again."

Evelyn shrugged him off with a brittle smile. "I don't need anyone's charity now. I go where I choose."

His jaw tightened.

Sometimes this infuriating woman had the emotional awareness of a brick.

"Sir, if you'll excuse me—" She turned toward the door, planning to visit the bear enclosure.

"You're excused—to bed." Nathaniel's command brooked no argument. He snagged her collar, steering her back toward their room.

The suite stood empty—Sophia and Benjamin must have taken their argument elsewhere.

Nathaniel locked the door and headed for the shower without another word.

Evelyn claimed the bed immediately. If they were maintaining this marital charade, she'd be damned if she slept on the couch. Within minutes, exhaustion pulled her into restless dreams.