Chapter 5

“Here,” Oliver said as he sat them both on the edge of the bed. Simpson was trembling against him. “Please lie back and rest. Please.” He moved so Simpson could roll back against the pillows, and when the man didn’t protest, he pulled the covers up over him. Simpson closed his eyes and left them closed.

“I will get you something to eat,” Oliver murmured.

* * * *

Simpson stayed in bed so Oliver kept away in the hope that if they didn’t argue he wouldn’t feel compelled to leave, but by afternoon he couldn’t keep away. He tapped at the door and entered to find Dixon settling the new coat on Simpson’s shoulders. Oliver found it hard to breathe for a moment. Simpson’s hair was clean and brushed, shining gold in the weak afternoon sun. He was dressed simply, but elegantly. Cravat tied to a nicety and blue cutaway coat that sat well. Dixon, bless his heart, had found a walking stick with a gold handle and Simpson leaned on it as he stood.

“You look well,” was all Oliver could manage.