A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 114

Declan stretched out his hand and snapped his fingers. "Lorna, get over here."

"Coming!"

The plump maid waddled over to the sofa, squatting beside him. She picked up a slice of apple with a silver fork, hovered her other hand beneath his chin to catch any drips, and gently fed it to him as if he were a toddler. "Slow down, sir. Eat slowly, don't choke."

While listening to the maid coddle a grown man in his twenties, Winifred examined Iris's foot. The top of her foot was barely red. If they waited much longer to treat it, it would literally heal on its own.

A simple cooling spray would do the trick.

Winifred looked up at them. "Please bring out the herbal spray I gave you earlier."

"What are you trying to do?" Holden demanded, instantly on high alert, staring at Winifred as if she were about to poison Iris. His eyes narrowed in warning. "I will not let you hurt Iris again!"

Winifred let out an exhausted sigh. "Let’s be realistic. We are in the Sutton mansion. What exactly do you think I can do?"

Iris chimed in gently, playing the peacemaker. "You just want to use the spray on me, right?"

"Yes."

"I asked Dr. Adams to have you bring ten bottles, but you only brought one."

The truth was, Quentin didn't have a single bottle. It was entirely thanks to Winifred stepping in that he hadn't lost face. And now Iris wanted ten? She was dreaming. But Winifred knew that when Iris finally woke up from this fantasy, the fallout would be catastrophic for everyone involved.

Winifred kept her tone perfectly professional. "Dr. Adams has been incredibly busy. The clinic is overflowing with patients. He worked overtime last night just to prepare two bottles."

"Oh, I see," Iris murmured, suddenly acting precious about her supply. "If there's only one bottle left, I should save it for Holden."

"You use it," Holden insisted immediately. "I'm fine."

"No, no, no. You injured your tendon. You need to heal completely so it doesn't affect your mobility."

Right in front of Winifred, they engaged in a sickening display of mutual sacrifice. He doted on her; she doted on him. She couldn't bear to see him suffer, and he couldn't stand the thought of her in pain. She was willing to give up everything for him, and he would do whatever it took for her.

Including absolute madness.

Holden immediately turned his crosshairs back on Winifred. "Dr. Shultz, you will make a new bottle for Iris right now."

Excuse me?

Even the maid knew exactly what Winifred was going through, and exactly how low her status had fallen in this house.

Declan smirked at her. "Then I'll take care of you. Want me?"

"I am incredibly well-endowed, you know. You saw it with your own eyes."

*Sick.*

*He is completely sick in the head!*

Winifred dragged her gaze away and continued trudging up the stairs. Fortunately, the guest room was just on the second floor of the west wing, so it didn't take much more effort.

The bedroom was dripping with wealth. An enormous bed, a wildly ornate rug, and furniture that screamed exorbitant extravagance. It was a space built purely to show off money.

Iris had already changed into a plush white robe and was lounging in the center of the massive bed, her injured foot resting toward the edge.

Winifred had barely stepped through the doorway when Iris wriggled her toes, gesturing for her.

"Come here, Dr. Shultz~"