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she'd end up in the bathroom retching. He'd cry: She'd have that much less strength left to gather. Mrs. Hoskins kept to herself. She went about her business unobtrusively, as w;ks her way. Sabrina had liked it that way when she first married Nick and inherited Mrs. Hoskins in the bargain. The housekeeper knew just what she was supposed to do around the house, and she did it. Unfortunately, she did nothing extra. Sabrina could appreciate Mrs. Hoskins' back problem, but there were times soon after the flu hit when she wondered how the@ woman could not offer to help, given the obvious way Sabrina was struggling. And Sabrina couldn't ask. Nor could she command; it wasn't her way. And though her pride was tattered, she still had a bit; she wouldn't give Mrs. Hoskins the satisfaction of hearing her beg. The only thing that enabled her to make it through the first day was the conviction that she'd be better by the next. But the next was just as bad. Even Nicholas agreed, albeit grudgingly, that she needed help. So they 68 a day worker, and though the woman, Doreen, , she was sweet. t was more than Sabrina could say for her husforget the sweet nothings he might have done to her feel better - the flowers he might have t her, the cup of tea, the back rub. She could without those - God knew she had, for Page 23
    Barbara Delinsky - Commitments
    months months anyway. But she firmly believed Nicholas have taken a day off from work to care for his That hadn't occurred to him, or if it had, he t himself above the task. Either that, or held intimidated: Nicky's peculiarities were enough Ary a saint, and Nicholas was no saint. He was barely even human when he strode into the oorn on the fourth night, sat down in a huff on the tz-covered chaise to unlace his shoes and began to plain. ' isn't ready. Can you believe that? supposed to play handball in an hour, and dinner I ready! Mrs. Hoskins says that Doreen is monopo-g the kitchen. ,"'She's feeding Nicky/ was Sabrina's muffled ponse. Her face was half-buried in the pillow. She't have the strength to move. He tossed one shoe in the direction of the closet. en you feed Nicky, I get dinner on time.' ''m efficient.' ' don't see what the problem is. How can dinner for e three-year-old be such an effortv The second shoe lowed the first. He stood and unfastened his ousers. Sabrina tugged the blankets more tightly to her omach. The pressure felt good. Tverything has to be trained. He still hates it.' ' don't strain the food.' ''ll choke.' 69 ' he's hungry enough, he'll eat., She didn't bother to answer. That seemed to goadd Nicholas on. ' you weren't lying around in bed, this wouldn't happen. How long do you plan on being sick?' She stared at him in disbelief. ' people have the flu/ he said. ''re sick for a day, maybe two, then they're back to normal. Not you. It's been four days. Are you enjoying the vacation?' She managed a weak, ''re nuts.' ' me. Maybe you. Maybe your flu is psychosomatic, Sabrina. Have you stopped to consider that possibility?"
    "Please, Nick.' 011m serious/ he said. He was standing in his underwear, with his hands cocked on his hips. ''s clear that Nicky is a problem for you. You've had trouble with him from the start. What better way to get time off than to be sickv Sabrina continued to stare. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that Nicholas was an attractive man. He was of average height, nicely built. His features were blue-blooded, and rightly so - given the presence of two marquises and a duke several branches up and over in his family tree. His skin was lightly tanned and firm of tone; even with more gray than brown in his hair, he looked younger than his fortythree years. And he-held himself well. Confidently. Arrogantly. Even in his underwear. But all that was somewhere in the back of her mind. At the moment, and at more moments than she cared to count of late, Sabrina found him offensive. ' can guarantee you, Nicholas, that I don't choose to be sick. I he here