Loving Lord Bridgerton

Chapter Twenty

The fever hit me like a wave. Every time I thought I found my way out of it, I was dragged back down. I could only hold on to glimpses of things. Dorota changing my sheets, the doctor checking up on me, Anthony mumbling to himself as he paced. It took all the energy I had to groan, trying to push them away. The only time I wasn't trying to fight them was the pleads I heard front Anthony as he held my hand, "Don't die. It's not supposed to be you. Please, please, Charlotte, don't die." I wanted to tell him I was going to be fine. I wanted to ask him why he cared about me so much now. I went from being sad for him to hating him in just a couple of seconds. Either way, the feelings were gone as fast as they came.

Finally, I groaned with enough energy to move my head around, but not enough to push myself up. "How are you feeling?" I heard Anthony ask, quickly moving to my side, taking my hand in his.

My entire body ached, and I realized there was a cold towel on my forehead dripping water on me. "What happened?" I asked, my voice coming out raspier than I expected.

"You passed out in the library, and we couldn't break your fever for three days."

"Three days?" I used to get fevers all the times when I was stressed, but it's been so long. It was the only time my father would take charge in my raising. He always vowed my mother's worries wouldn't put me into an early grave if he had anything to say about it. "Oh God." I groaned, throwing the towel off my forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Anthony asked again and I looked at him, feeling nothing but anger.

All I could do was think about all the time he spend avoiding me. All the woman he could have lain with while I was in bed alone and heartbroken. What I would do to him if got one of them pregnant. "Don't insult us both by pretending like you care." I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"What makes you think I don't care?"

I scoffed, looking over at him. He actually looked hurt by my remarks. "I have spoken to you more now than I have our entire marriage, and I have been awake for less than three minutes."

Anthony let out a deep breath, looking down at his hands. "We used to be friends."

"Yeah, used to being the key word." I held my breath as I used all my strength to push myself up against the headboard. Anthony moved to help me, and I pushed him off, not before I was sitting up though. "Until you decided that you hate me!"

Anthony let out a deep breath, "I don't hate you." His voice was so low I could have missed it, but my ears weren't going to let that go.

I was amazed that I didn't break down in tears. Normally, I would have. This isn't what I wanted, but I'm too tired. My body can't handle it. "You don't talk to me! You barely look at me! I am your wife and you barely touch me!" I pressed my lips together trying to stop myself, but I wasn't finished. "Makes me wonder who are touching." Anthony looked at me with anger in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could say a word. "Before you get all high-and-mighty with your honor, I don't have the energy to listen to you lie." I picked the towel up off nightstand, putting it back on my head. "I need to rest."

Anthony left me to rest after a sigh of defeat. I meant everything I said before, but I did feel guilty for mumbling 'Doing what you're good at.' That was uncalled for. I got punished when Dorota came in with one of her special teas. It was really green and taste like...dirty stockings and fish and, weirdly, flowers. I don't know exactly what is in it, but I'm too scared to ask. She refused to do anything for me, if I didn't finish it. Every time she thought I was having a weak spell she would make me drink that God awful tea. I just wanted a bath, but I would rather jump out the window instead of drinking it again. I called to have a bath put together, but when I stood up I got dizzy and almost fell straight to the floor. The only thing I could do was get my robe on just to feel like I was falling asleep.