Read Fortune Said: A Valentine Haberdashers Tale for Free Online

six and twenty, I still wasn't married. As though that were something I could control." Her wavering, tearful voice broke off in a sob. "I didn't just lose my family, I lost everything. I have nothing left. Nothing but what I'm willing to give of myself. So I was glad, very glad, to finally be able to nurse someone back to health from this horrid fever."
    Whit felt desperate to comfort her. "You have slightly more than nothing, Miss Devonport. You have me. Certainly you know that I will never consider my debt to you repaid. My life is now yours to ask of what you wish." Rather than console her, his words seemed to make her sob harder still. He struggled to sit up further on the pillows. Her tears were breaking his heart and he might do something rash soon. "Tell me what I can do, Miss Devonport. What can I do to make your feel better?"
    At that she looked at him as though he had asked if she kept zoo animals in her reticule. When she stood he thought that perhaps she was going to leave, then she flung herself onto the bed beside him and buried her face against his shoulder to weep in earnest. He'd never held a weeping woman and it was a bit unnerving, honestly. Her tiny frame shook with her sobs. He ran his hand over her back in what he hoped was a comforting caress. After a few moments, when his panic subsided, he was able to appreciate how perfect she felt in his arms. Delicate and warm. Her hair was indeed soft as mink and smelled like wildflowers. He felt like an ass appraising her finer qualities while she grieved, but it was impossible to ignore the intense attraction he had for her.
    He held h er and let her cry, wishing he was a good enough man for her.
     
    * * *
     
    Sissy had cried for her family before, but perhaps she had never grieved. Now, with Mr. Whitman, it felt as though her heart had cracked open and every bit of misery had poured out. He held her as though she were special, treasured. and that had brought another layer of grieving. She wasn't special to anyone anymore. He'd said that she could ask anything of him and what she wanted foremost to ask was if he could just continue doing this. Holding her. Forever.
    She fell asleep in his arms.
     
    * * *
     
    Whit awoke to the sound of a shocked gasp. His cousin's shocked gasp, if he wasn't mistaken. And he was sure he wasn't mistaken, because he would know that sound anywhere. He deviled Josh at times just to hear it. But he was fairly sure he hadn't been trying to devil Josh just now because he otherwise felt warm and content. The aching of his muscles had lessened and ... Sweet mercy, Miss Devonport was in his bed.
    "What on earth are you doing?" Josh sounded outraged. Furious, in fact. 
    Miss Devonport scrambled up immediately.  "Dibbs, sir, it's not what it looks like."
    "Go to your room, I'll deal with you later."
    The poor girl paled and fled through the door.
    "Don't be harsh with Miss Devonport," Whit warned.
    "What were you thinking! You are literally on what was almost your death bed."
    "Based on how you're looking at me, I'm wondering if it still will be."
    "How can you be flip? Do you have no shame? Dammit, Whit, why do you always have to take things and take advantage?"
    Whit felt a cold ball take up residence in his chest. "Why do I always have to take? It's the province of those who have nothing and are given nothing."
    "That's a ridiculous way to justify your actions."
    "What would you know of it, Josh? The treasured son of attentive parents. Tell me, did my mother write to ask after my health once my illness was known at Kellington?"
    Josh shifted on his feet. "That's not the point here."
    "Just answer the question."
    "No."
    "Did your mother?"
    "Yes, but I don't see-"
    "No, you don't see, Josh. You never have. You grew up loved and I grew up on scraps. Your mother was the closest thing I had to a real mother. I could always count on Aunt Lucy to sneak a biscuit for me, to kiss my cuts, or hold me while I cried. But she wasn't my mother,