Truce (Neighbor from Hell 4)
Page 42“I lost my temper and made her lose the baby,” his said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he allowed himself to mourn the loss of his child, a child that he would never see.
“Did…..did you strike her?” his father asked quietly.
“I would never hurt her,” he bit out between clenched teeth.
“Then how did-” his father started to ask, appearing both tired and confused.
“I said things that I shouldn’t have said. I was angry with her and I…..I let my temper get the better of me,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face, wishing that he could do this day over again.
If he could do this day over again, he would do it right. He’d kiss her and tell her how much he loved her before he dropped down on one knee and begged her to marry him. If she said no, then he would have courted her and proved to her how much he cared for her. He should have-
“You should have never married her,” his father said, sounding disappointed and shaking his head in disgust as he walked away.
He didn’t argue with his father, but simply let the man walk away, because his father was right. He should have never married her, but he had and now he was going to be the husband that she needed him to be, he decided as he pushed away from the wall and walked towards the bedroom door.
When a footman tried to step in his way and stop him, Robert simply punched the man in the stomach, dropping him to the floor and stepped over him. He opened the door and quickly shut it behind him.
“Robert? What are you doing in here?” his mother demanded when she spotted him. “You don’t belong in here.”
“I belong with my wife,” he said, his eyes landing on Elizabeth’s sleeping form and remaining there as he walked to her.
“Perhaps we could speak in the hallway?” the surgeon suggested, no doubt uncomfortable with his presence since being in the sickroom with your wife was simply not done.
“We’ll talk here,” Robert murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wife’s cool forehead, ignoring his mother’s startled gasp.
After pressing a second kiss to her forehead, simply because he was relieved that she was alive, he carefully sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. He looked up at the stunned surgeon and gestured for him to begin.
“Well,” the surgeon said, clearing his throat and shifting uncomfortably, no doubt well acquainted with Robert’s reputation, “as I’m sure you know, your wife lost the child.”
“And how is my wife?” he asked, praying that she was going to be okay after this.
“She is very upset, Mr. Bradford, but with rest, food and time, I believe that she will make a full recovery and should be able to have more children.”
Robert nodded as he sighed with relief. She would be okay. That’s all that mattered to him. Well, there was one more thing that he had to know.
“Do you know what caused her to lose the baby?” he asked, needing his fault in the matter confirmed.
“I believe dehydration and the fact that she couldn’t keep anything down was the cause of this,” the surgeon said on a weary sigh as he picked up his bag. “From what I understand, she thought that stress was the cause of everything, and once she realized that she was with child, she became overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do, Mr. Bradford,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “The next time, I don’t believe that she’ll hesitate in asking for help. Good day, sir.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, returning his attention back to his sleeping wife.
Chapter 23
Two weeks later…..
“Please, stop.”
“But, you need to eat,” Robert stubbornly explained as he scooped up another spoonful of that dreadful broth that he’d practically been pouring down her throat since she woke up two weeks ago. “The surgeon was very adamant about this in fact.”
“Yes, but can’t I-” Her words were cut off when he took advantage and shoved the spoon in her mouth.
“You need to build up your strength,” he said with a firm nod as he placed the vile broth concoction back on the table and picked up the cup of equally vile tea and tried to make her drink it.
“No,” she said, turning her head away.
“Elizabeth,” he said in clear exasperation, “this will help you. Now drink.”
“No!” she stubbornly said, turning her face into the pillow and pressing her lips together in silent protest.
He sighed heavily as he attempted to cup her chin gently between his fingers and force her to turn towards him so that he could pour that awful tea down her throat again, but after two weeks straight of drinking that putrid concoction, she was done.
“No,” she bit out quickly before she closed her lips up tightly once again.
“It will make you stronger,” he patiently explained as he made another attempt.
“No, it will make me gag!” she managed to get out before he could bring the cup to her lips.
“Drink it quickly and you won’t taste a thing,” he lied, again, as he brought the cup to her lips, but she wasn’t having it. She pressed a hand over her mouth, creating a protective barrier against the disgusting liquid.
His eyes narrowed on the action as he placed the cup down on the table. “You’re only making this harder on yourself,” he said, reaching over and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
With narrowed eyes, she quickly replaced it with her other hand. When he pulled the hand away, she did it again until he was forced to grab both her hands, with a frustrated growl, and pinned them against the mattress. His smile was smug until he realized that with both of his hands pinning hers, he couldn’t pick up the cup and force her to drink.
“You’re being stubborn,” he accused with a sullen glare.
“So are you!” she snapped back.
“You need it!”
“No, I don’t!” she shot back, because she really didn’t need it. It was turning her stomach and no matter how much he was able to get down her throat, it did nothing to ease her hunger. She was in fact, starving.