Chapter 11
If George’s conscience had pricked him the night before, it fairly bayoneted him on seeing Matthew’s face at the breakfast table next morning. There were dark circles under Matthew’s eyes, and his customary good cheer even first thing in the morning was conspicuously absent.
“You’ll be coming down with something,” Mrs. Mac said with grim satisfaction. “And Lord help us all if it’s the influenza again.”
At that, Matthew forced a smile—a poor approximation of his usual cheery beam. “Not a bit of it, Mrs. Mac. I simply didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be right as rain after I’ve eaten.” At no time did he meet George’s eye.
George knew damn well what would’ve kept him awake in Matthew’s position. To make overtures to a man who wasn’t amenable…Well. It rarely ended well. As it
