Low sneezed violently into his handkerchief as Margery winced and poured him a cup of hot tea. Derry stopped her from passing it over and dropped a few dollops of medicine into it from the bottle on the table.

"Urgh. Why'd you do that? You ruined the tea." Low complained. Derry gave him a sympathetic look but handed the tea over with a stern Margery glaring at him.

"Would you rather drink it by itself?" She asked cruelly. Low remembered the last dose and shuddered at the memory.

"No. No, this is fine." He backtracked, accepting the teacup and swallowing down the mixture with a grimace. It was only slightly less awful than drinking it on its own.

"I still don't understand why you thought it would be a good idea to go for a swim." Margery griped as she passed Low a fresh handkerchief.

"And I don't understand why I got so sick and he's bloody fine." Low grumbled, gesturing to the healthy looking man who stood next to the bed ladling out a bowl of soup for him.

"Why don't you let the maid do that, dear?" Marge said with a frown as he splashed the side table a little.

"No. It was my idea to go swimming. The least I can do is care for the person I got sick." He replied, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed and dipping a spoon into the broth. Low blushed as his brother carefully fed him the soup under Marge's critical eye.

"Alright then, but make sure he gets some rest when you are done. A good sleep will be just the ticket." She got up with a huff and muttered under her breath as she moved out the door. They watched her go and then shared a little smile.

"I'm sorry." Derry said with a sigh. Low shook his head and opened his mouth for another sip of broth. After swallowing it down with a grimace at his sore throat.

"It's fine. I'm the one who suggested we walk." He grumbled at his silly behaviour the other day. They worked at finishing the soup and then Derry made him lay down.

"Your stepmother is probably right though. You should get lots of sleep." He said as he tucked the covers about him carefully.

"I'm not really tired though." Low complained. He stared up at Derry pitifully. Derry smiled and caved almost immediately.

"Alright then, shall I read to you some?" He went to the pile of books on Low's chest at the end of the bed and picked through them.

"Please? I like the dark blue one." He pointed to one on the other side. Derry picked it up and smiled.

"Ah. Pirates. How fun." He came to sit next to him on the bed and opened the book. He read in a low, steady voice and despite his words to the contrary... Low drifted off into a sound slumber. Derry waited until he was quite sure the boy was fast asleep before he marked the page and put it aside.

He got up slowly so as not to wake the sick man, carefully closed the bed curtains, and slipped out the door. He shushed the maid on the other side and waved them all out of the young master's suite. One footman waited by the door in case he woke up and needed something.

"My lord? You have visitors in the front parlour." The butler was staring at him curiously as he came down the main staircase and was handed the card on a platter. Derry was not surprised at the announcement and slipped into the room with a nod and smile, closing the door behind him.

Margery was rather interested when the butler came into the sewing room to inform her of the young lord's visitors. Sadly, she was preoccupied with the hemming of her new ball gown and was unable to even attempt to eavesdrop at the door.

The seamstress was rather put out with her as she rushed the poor girl and nearly managed to get stuck with a pin when she wrestled out of the gown afterwards. Part of her was utterly frustrated with the ridiculous amounts of fabric involved in fashionable women's clothing.

She threw on her afternoon gown and nearly tripped on her way down the stairs in an attempt to catch the Lord's company leaving. She was about ready to cry when she walked in the room to find only Lord Hart sitting on the couch, alone.

"Who was that? Who did you meet?" She demanded with a huff and stomp of her satin slippered foot. Derry turned with a smile and a mischievous glint to his eye.

"Hmmm? Who was who?" He teased the girl.

"Oh you know very well who I am speaking of. Come on then. Tell me who came to visit." She sat with a flounce. Derry shook his head and snickered at her outraged expression.

"Nope. Not a chance. Where is the fun in that? If I tell you then I shall give it all away." He narrowed his eyes at her and she stilled at the undertones. There was a hint of danger about him just then that fair stole her breath away.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to be nosy." She mumbled with a little blush on her cheeks. He didn't say anything for a moment and the blush intensified.

"You did mean to be nosy, but it wasn't maliciously done. I forgive you Margery. Just be careful where you stick your nose in at times. I don't want to see you get hurt." His words held a sort of serious warning to them that had her attention.

"Thank you, Derry." She replied quietly. Her hands wrung against her waist at the thought of distancing the young man that had proved to bring a little excitement into her life. "I will try to be more careful."

"Good. Now, shall we play a game of cards until we hear that Low is awake again?" His quick change of mood and bright smile had her spirits rallying, and she agreed quickly.

"Yes! Though I warn you, I am devilishly good at most games. My mother and I used to play for hours in the afternoons. None of my sisters had the wit for it." She boasted to him. Their walk to the back parlour was in cheerful company, and she asked the footman to have them informed when Low awakened. Then, she did her utmost to positively murder him at her favourite games.

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