Josie pulled her hands away. “Maybe not, but my blindness definitely should.” Josie took a few steps until she was able to grip the back of a chair. She turned toward Lady Dorothea. “Lord Remington is a good man, but he has responsibilities and needs a wife who can assist him with those here at Rose Hill, and in London. A blind wife would only hold him back from all that God has given him to do.”
“Marcus has obligations, true. He also has a duty to his family, but I would never desire for him to choose a bride merely for convenience. Your lack of sight may be blinding you to other truths at play here.”
“Maybe so. But my fanciful heart could not bear to be broken if my hopes soar higher than they ought.”
“So you do care for him?”
Josie nodded. “More than is good for me.”
Lady Dorothea sounded confused. “Why is that?”
Josie inhaled deeply, held her breath, and exhaled slowly. “Your nephew tempts me.”
“Tempts you?” Dorothea sounded pleased at this.
Josie nodded. “I’m too attracted to him. T’would be better if my father came quickly before I act totally out of character and throw myself at him.”
Dorothea laughed and came close and placed a hand gently on Josie’s shoulder. “I’m glad he tempts you without you ever having seen him. He has had women sighing over him since he was a lad at university. I have never seen his eyes light up as they do when he looks at you, Josie. I suspect you may be more temptation to my virtuous nephew than you realize.”
Josie shook her head. “’Tis hopeless. Nothing could come of our attraction.”
“Do not be too sure about that, my dear.”
Josie turned to find herself embraced by this older woman. When she pulled back, she swiped a stray tear. “I cannot dare hope.”
“Yes, you can. And pray, as well. It was no accident that God brought you to Rose Hill, Miss Storm.” With that, Dorothea stepped back and called for Molly to tend to her mistress. “Pleasant dreams.”
~*~
“I am concerned that we have still not heard from Mr. Storm. If Josie remains here too long, her reputation might suffer.” Marcus relaxed in his chair and sipped from a glass of brandy.
“Your aunt is here. There is nothing improper about that. Miss Storm’s reputation is safe.”
Lord Westcombe leaned his back against the side of the mantel and watched his friend.
“If it would help, I could ride to Stone to talk to Mr. Storm.” Sir Michael Tidley sat, leaned back in a chair with his legs stretched out and his boots crossed at the ankle. “Besides, as much as I enjoy your hospitality, I am itching for adventure. I would gladly take on that errand for you.”
“If you wouldn’t mind the company, I’ll join you,” Phillip said as he pushed away from the fireplace area and came to stand near Michael.
“I had not considered sending someone to her home. Perhaps that would answer. What do you think, Theo?”
“It’s a brilliant idea. I will stay here and bear you and the ladies company.”
“When will you depart?” Lord Remington asked the other two men.
“Tomorrow morning. If we have decent weather, we could easily make the trip in a day, overnight at an inn, and approach Mr. Storm the next morning.” Phillip smiled.
“Excellent.” Marcus grinned.
The men finished their drinks and headed off to bed.
Marcus sighed in relief. He did not want Miss Storm gone, but he feared what he might do if she stayed much longer. He had never had a woman who presented such a temptation to him before. Flirtation and provocative clothing amongst the women of the beau monde had never created a desire in him for any woman he had met. Yet under his own roof, a young woman of passion, beauty, and spirit was leading him to thoughts he really should not be having for anyone other than his wife. Was Miss Storm the one God had designated to fill that role? How could he really know?
~*~
Josie awoke to a loud pounding in her head and rolled over with a groan. She took some deep breaths and slowly opened her eyes. Bright lights stabbed behind her eyes and made her close them again. They wouldn’t cease. She pushed up, and when the room no longer spun, she sat up, and rang for Molly.
She rose, stumbled across the room, and finally grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. If only she were able to move around to sit. The pain seemed to increase with every breath, and the floor rolled like the deck of a ship in a stormy sea. She took a few steps before she floated into darkness.
~*~
Hoofbeats heralded the men’s departure.
Marcus exited his bedchamber and headed for the stairs. Molly’s scream brought him up short. He turned and ran to the East wing. He entered Josie’s sitting room to find it empty and dashed to the bedroom door.
Molly knelt by the crumpled body of Miss Storm, who rested on the floor with her head against the base of the fireplace. The crimson pool of blood looked bright against the white and gray of the marbled stone.
Fenton and Mrs. Hughes rushed into the room as Molly continued to wail.
“Quiet!” Marcus bellowed. “Fenton, send someone to get Dr. Miller.”
The butler left.
Molly continued to hiccup and whimper over her mistress.
“What happened?” Marcus knelt down on the other side of Josie and placed a hand by her neck. Her pulse was steady.
“She pulled the bell, and when I arrived she was…here.” Molly looked at Marcus with fear in her eyes.
“Molly, you did nothing wrong.” Marcus checked for other injuries. Josie still wore her night rail, and her bare feet were exposed, but he found nothing that seemed injured other than her head. Marcus stripped off his cravat, gently lifted her head, and wrapped it around to help staunch the flow of blood.
The linen was soon saturated, and Mrs. Hughes left to get more bandages.
Marcus carefully lifted Josie up off the floor, carried her back to the bed to deposit her on the mattress. Molly arranged the pillows as he reclined his burden. Marcus stepped back and looked away as the abigail covered up her mistress.
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance and my God.” The words sprang to his lips as a whisper before he was even aware of them. Marcus sank to his knees beside the bed, grasped Josie’s limp hand, and prayed like never before as fear gripped his heart.
When Dr. Miller arrived, he shooed Marcus from the room.
Lady Dorothea came to sit with Josie.
Lord Harrow met Marcus, grabbed his arm, and led him downstairs to the breakfast parlour. “This may be a long day, my friend, but you will do Miss Storm no favors if you make yourself ill.”
“I doubt skipping a meal will put me on my sickbed, Theo.” Marcus grabbed a cup of coffee and wandered to stare out the window. “Thank you for your concern.” Bright sunshine poured through the window with a warmth that did not reach the ice that choked his heart. He returned to the table, sat, and picked at the plate of food a footman placed in front of him.
Dr. Miller eventually joined them and accepted the offer of breakfast. He sat down and frowned as he glanced at Marcus. “I’m sorry, Remy. I realize how much you have come to care for and admire Miss Storm.”
Theodore piped in. “We all do. She is an exceptional young woman.”
Marcus nodded and, with little hope in him, regarded Bruce. “What is the prognosis?”
“She struck her head when she fell. Marble is an unforgiving surface. Another head injury this soon after the first one is a concern. The sooner she regains consciousness the better.”
“Which tells me nothing new, Bruce.” Marcus pursed his lips together.
“I wish I could give you more. We do not know why she fell. Did she trip or faint? Without that information, I have nothing to go on. All we can do is keep watch over her and try to get fluids into her. I am sorry, Marcus. I am a doctor, not God. If you w
ant more, you shall have to ask Him.”
“Hmph.” Marcus shook his head. “I already have.”
“Wait and pray. Right now, that is all this doctor can advise.” Bruce finished his coffee and rose from the table. “I shall return later today, but if you have need, do not hesitate to send for me.”
Marcus nodded but did not rise. “Thank you, Bruce.”
Dr. Miller tipped his head to Theo, who had sat silently through the exchange. Bruce passed Marcus, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and without another word, departed.
Marcus rose and paced the room twice before stopping to look at Lord Harrow. “Would you excuse me? I need to be with her.”
Theo nodded. “Do not worry about me, ol’ chap. I can take care of my own entertainment.”
Marcus frowned and strode from the room. He took the steps two at a time and brought himself to Josie’s room.
Molly sat sewing in the corner.
Lady Grey took one glance at him when he came in and stood to allow him the chair next to the bed. As he moved past, his aunt enfolded him in a hug. When she released him, she held him with one hand on each bicep. She said nothing, but her eyes told him of her care and that she understood his need to be there. He blinked back a tear as she released him and left. He sank into the chair by the bedside to keep vigil.
15
Marcus claimed the night shift with Josie. Lady Grey argued in vain against him being in the sickroom, but Marcus prevailed.
“You cannot control her recovery by being there, Marcus.” His aunt admonished with a solemn look.
Marcus gave her a hug. “I know, but I can pray.”
“You can pray from your own room.”
“I need to be here.”
“Molly will be asleep on a pallet in the corner, and I know you would never do anything to compromise Miss Storm, but realize her father will arrive in probably two days. Are you ready for that?”
Marcus shook his head. “How am I to tell him about this when I sent a positive report?”
“This was not your fault. We will leave the future in God’s hands.” Lady Grey gave her nephew a peck on the cheek and took off for her own bed so she would be ready to take over in the morning.
Marcus prayed, read Scripture, and even sang hymns. Josie slept. Her pulse was steady and she breathed, but that was it. Periodically, he sat on the bed and tried to raise her head up to dribble some water down her throat. He gently caressed her hair as he laid her back on the pillow. “Come on, Josie. Wake up. Please?”
Charlie fell asleep in Marcus’s lap since Josie did not respond to her kisses or pet her.
Morning came, and after a small breakfast, he collapsed into his bed for a few hours of rest before he attended to estate business.
The next two nights were a repeat of the first.
Marcus functioned on less sleep than usual and occasionally lapsed into slumber next to Josie’s bed. The next morning, Marcus went to bed exhausted. Today was the day Mr. Storm might arrive with Michael and Phillip. The heavy weight of despair settled over him until he slept.
When Marcus awoke, he found most of the day had passed. He had wanted to rise earlier, but his aunt must have countermanded his request so he might rest. He finished sticking a pin in his cravat as he heard hoof beats coming down the lane. He glanced out his window and observed two horses ride in followed by a carriage.
Mr. Storm had arrived.
Marcus descended the main staircase into the entryway of his home to witness a portly, older man with a receding hairline remove his hat and hand it to Fenton.
“Lord Remington?” The man came forward. “Herbert Storm. I hear I have you to thank for the rescue and care of my daughter.”
Phillip and Michael entered the house.
“Marcus, we brought him,” Michael proclaimed.
“Would you join me in my study?” Marcus turned to walk down the corridor. He spied Theo, took him aside, and whispered, “Explain to Michael and Phillip what has happened.”
Theo nodded and intercepted their friends.
Shutting the door behind him, Marcus moved past Mr. Storm and motioned for him to have a seat. “Brandy?” he offered.
“Much obliged. The roads were dusty, even encased in a carriage.” Mr. Storm accepted the glass and watched Marcus with an eagle eye. “Is there a problem?”
Marcus nodded and sipped his own glass. “When I sent Westcombe and Tidley to you, the news was promising. After they left, however, Jo—Miss Storm suffered an accident. We do not know how it happened. She was found on the floor with a gash in her head.”
“I wish I had paid more attention to your correspondence. I did not recognize your name or realize that it would report tragedy. If only I had…”
“Regrets will not do either of us any good now, Mr. Storm. May I escort you to her room? We have someone sitting with her all day and night in case she awakens. The doctor is concerned that she has not yet opened her eyes.”
Mr. Storm’s gaze lowered to take in the pattern of the Persian carpet. He took another sip of his brandy and set the glass down on the table. He rose. “I’m indebted to you for all you’ve done, Lord Remington. I would like to see my daughter now.”
Marcus led the somber procession to the East wing. He knocked lightly before entering. As they entered, he pointed to the spot where Josie fell. The marble no longer showed signs of the disaster. Marcus stood aside as Mr. Storm sat by his daughter’s bed.
Mr. Storm spoke gently to his daughter, laid a hand on her arm, and bent over her in prayer. When he finished, his shoulders sagged and he turned to approach Marcus. He placed a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Thank you for all you have done for my daughter.”
Together, the men returned to the drawing room, where Marcus introduced Mr. Storm to his aunt and Lord Harrow.
He would have remained, except that Fenton had come to inform him that he had another visitor. Marcus’s brows knit together. Who could it be now? He left the room and followed the regal butler to the front door, where a distinguished older gentleman with snowy white hair stood waiting. Marcus stepped forward. “Lord Chester, welcome to Rose Hill. I’m Lord Remington.” He gave a bow to the esteemed Earl.
“I’ve come to meet my granddaughter, Miss Storm. I apologize for arriving without notice, but it was urgent that I come as quickly as I could.”
“Am I to assume Lady Grey corresponded with you?”
“Correct.”
“And your intentions towards Miss Storm are honorable?”
The Earl gave a broad smile. “Is that the way the land lies? Good for her. I come with the intention to mend a breech that should never have occurred, except for an old fool’s pride and stubbornness.”
Marcus smiled. “Will you join me in my study? I have news to share with you.” Turning to his butler, he said, “Fenton, please prepare a room for the Earl.”
Marcus entered the study with the Earl, closed the door behind him, and offered a drink. Déjà vu. Hadn’t he just done this? He explained Josie’s original accident, the recent one, and that Mr. Storm had arrived.
“Am I too late, then?” The Earl’s face fell, and the light dimmed in his eyes.
“We do not know for certain. You are welcome to stay here, but I suggest you make peace with Mr. Storm.”
“I had intended upon that course of action. Would you send him to me?”
Marcus nodded and left. He brought Mr. Storm to his study and abandoned the two men to sort through the past, present, and move on to a better future. If only Josie were awake to witness this. His heart heavy, he went to join the others in the drawing room. The dinner bell rang.
~*~
The meal was pleasant.
Lady Grey was a consummate hostess and made both of the newcomers welcome and comfortable. Conversation flowed freely, but Marcus could not help but yawn.
“Marcus, maybe you should go to bed early tonight,” Michael stated. “You look a little rough around the edges.”
“
Thanks. As it was, I slept all day and only rose shortly before your arrival.”
“You slept all day?” Phillip coughed in shock.
Lady Grey smiled at her nephew. “Marcus has been keeping watch over Miss Storm during the evening hours.”
All heads swiveled as one to face Marcus. He shrugged. “Someone needs to do it.”
“Couldn’t a servant take that role?” Mr. Storm asked.
“Are you worried she might still be in danger, Marcus?” Michael’s gaze was intense as he focused on him.
“Perhaps. We don’t know why she fell.”
“You suspect foul play with this recent accident?” Lord Chester asked.
Marcus shook his head. “No. Well, we do not know. It is unclear if she was the intended victim in the carriage accident. Could she be in more danger? And why?”
“Josie has no enemies,” Herbert stated firmly.
“I can well believe that,” Marcus defended. “But someone planned the accident which injured her. Why would she fall on a level floor?”
“We do not know for certain if she would be in danger, but Bow Street has recommended caution,” Lady Grey stated.
“If you will excuse me.” Marcus rose, left the room, and headed upstairs to assume his vigil over Josie. Marcus fought against boredom and worry as the sun set.
As usual, Molly sewed in the corner.
Night after night, Marcus prayed through the hours over Josie. His aunt and guests would spend the evening playing cards and talking. Marcus struggled to manage estate business due to his fatigue.
When he was not able to be by her side, other members of the household visited Josie. They developed a rhythm around the care of Miss Storm.
It had been over a week, and Marcus found his nerves frayed. He looked haggard, or so his aunt informed him.
“You know we can find one of the household staff to do this.”
Marcus shook his head. “I can’t explain why, but I need to be there.”
During his evening watches, Marcus talked to Josie. He told her about how he felt when his parents died. How the responsibility weighed on him. He spoke of his questions about God and his determination to live a life that would honor Him. He shared his dreams for the future, of a wife and family, and he even confessed he hoped that she would figure into those dreams if only she would awaken. He longed to see her gray eyes. He thought she still looked beautiful, but she took on a frail appearance as the days went by.
The Virtuous Viscount Page 13
