His Lady in Breeches

XLII. Puppets and Friends

When Maxine opened her eyes again, the pain was there, but so was her husband as he was when she first regained consciousness. But this time she knew that to prevent another high dose of laudanum was to bear the agony.

She swallowed and her voice croaked when she tried to catch Maxwell's attention. "Max."

His head was bent, his eyes blankly staring at her hand in his.

"Max," she called again and quietly groaned when he did not move. "Are you sleeping with your eyes open again?" she managed to jest through a heavy breath.

At that moment, he did snap from his reverie and his eyes rounded with relief when their eyes met.

She would have thought he meant to pounce on her, but he did not. He moved closer to the side of the bed and hovered over her, searching her face with frantic eyes, gauging the pain. Maxine managed a faint smile as he said, "Maxie."

"Dare not ask for forgiveness," she croaked with warning. "There is none to give. But I would ask for some water, please."

He immediately jumped to get her a glass of water which he very carefully guided to her lips. She took a few sips before she shook her head and settled it back into the pillow.

Maxwell hovered over her again and his eyes were glimmering with tears.

His nose flared and for the first time Maxine witnessed Maxwell crying. Something clenched in her heart. She lifted her hand and he held it to his face as he continued to sob, his forehead against hers.

"You might not be able to walk again, love," he brokenly whispered.

Maxine chuckled, not because of the horrible news, but by her husband's utter honesty. "At the very least we are done with the bad news," she lightly said, closing her eyes to ignore the pain.

Maxwell sniffed and leaned away from her. He wiped his eyes with the pad of his hand before he forced a smile on his lips. "I did tell them you would not mind."

Maxine laughed this time, but the pain was starting to get irritatingly immense. "I am both hungry and in pain, Max."

Maxwell cupped her face and gently wiped away the tears from her eyes and rested his cheek against hers. "Which would you wish to address first?" he whispered against her cheek.

"My growling stomach, of course, you fool," she weakly snapped. "But do be quick as I am inclined to request for another dose of laudanum."

He left her side and rang for the maid and returned to her side. The way he looked at her as he brushed her hair off her forehead made Maxine realize how close she must have come to death.

"How is the carriage?" she asked.

"It would take a year's worth of your allowance to repair it," he whispered.

She closed her eyes again. "And the horses?"

"Found in the woods."

She swallowed through the pain. "The wheels broke off."

"Yes."

"Both of them."

"I know, love."

She opened her eyes and found him gazing at her in such tender a manner. He did not care how the accident happened.

"But I would have done something should you have not survived," he added, reading her mind.

Maxine sighed. "Where is the food, Max?"

"On its way," he said, standing up to go to the door to shout down the corridor. "A servant, please!"

Maxine sighed. "Did they cut my leg?" she asked.