“Oh, don’t ye worry none, me lady,” Rosalie said, nodding sagely. “I’m an old hand at keeping things quiet ‘round ‘ere. I’ve got lots o’ practice.” She glanced over each shoulder and lowered her voice, bending closer to Thea. “Ye see, ye’re not the only secret houseguest staying ‘ere, me lady. There’s another wot’s down the far end o’ the corridor, in the next wing.”
Thea’s eyes went wide, and her throat went dry. “What?” she said, blinking rapidly, quite unable to believe what she was hearing. Could what the maid was telling her be true? And if it was true, who in heaven’s name was Lord Clayton’s other secret houseguest?
“It’s true, me lady,” Rosalie said, as if she’d read Thea’s thoughts. “Only, even I’m not privy to that guest. I’ve no idea who’s in that room.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ewan decided to ask James and Giles to bring Lady Theodora and her wheelchair into the dining room that evening. The two footmen waited until no other servants were in the foyer before carrying her down and pushing her into the large room. Ewan was standing near the windows with his hands in his pockets when they entered. He turned immediately to greet her and immediately sucked in his breath.
Lady Theodora was wearing a pretty gown of lavender and her hair was swept up. A string of pearls graced her neck and earbobs hung from her ears. She was breathtaking.
“You look wonderful,” Ewan told her, thinking he’d never had a more lovely dinner partner. He moved away from the window to meet her near the table.
“So do you, my lord,” Lady Theodora replied, her gaze taking him in from top to toe.
Ewan glanced down. He had spent some time on his appearance this evening, ensuring that his valet put him in his finest evening attire, including a black coat and breeches, white shirtfront and cravat and a sapphire blue waistcoat. He’d even bothered to slick back his hair with a bit of pomade.
Ewan bowed to Lady Theodora, “Thank you, my lady. I’m pleased that you agreed to have dinner with me again this evening.”
“No, it is I who must thank you,” Lady Theodora replied. “It’s lovely to come sit in dining room again and to feel as if everything is somewhat normal.”
Ewan chuckled. “I can understand that sentiment.” He gestured to the dinner table that had already been set by the servants. The two footmen had gone down to the kitchens to retrieve the first course.
“May I?” Ewan asked, gesturing to Lady Theodora’s chair.
“Yes, please,” she replied, giving him a smile.
Ewan pushed her chair up to the table as close as possible. He angled the chair so that her legs were to the right side of the head of the table. “I took the liberty of moving my place setting to be closer to you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Lady Theodora glanced down at the tabletop where Ewan’s plates, utensils, and wine glass were set on the left side of hers.
She gave him another bright smile. “I prefer it, actually. That way we’ll be able to hear one another.” She laughed as she regarded the long stretch of the dining table.
“That was my thinking as well. Why stand on formality?” Ewan replied, grinning. “We’re already in an odd arrangement.”
“Indeed,” Lady Theodora replied.
The footmen entered the room with the first course of artichoke soup and began to serve it and pour the wine.
Lady Theodora cleared her throat. “Did you … finish your business with your solicitor, my lord?”
Ewan grabbed up his spoon. “Yes, though I can’t say it was more enjoyable than helping you with your wheelchair lessons. How about you? What did you do this afternoon? After your lesson, that is.”
Lady Theodora laughed again, and Ewan realized it was a pleasant sound. Much more preferable than her waspishness. “I rested a bit, and I woke with sore arms.” She winced and pressed her shoulders. “And then I finished sewing the nightrail.”
Ewan frowned. “Nightrail?”
Lady Theodora nodded and took a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, I sewed a nightrail for Rosalie.”
The frown remained on Ewan’s face. “Rosalie? The maid.”
“That’s right. She was so kind as to allow me to wear one of hers the night I came to stay here, I thought it only right to repay her with a new garment. Maggie brought some fabric from home. It was the loveliest white sarcenet.”
Ewan stared hard at Lady Theodora for several seconds before he finally realized he was gaping at her. “That was … good of you,” he finally managed.
Lady Theodora shrugged. “No better than what she did for me. And speaking of nice gestures, thank you again for the wheelchair, my lord. It was entirely unexpected and unnecessary but appreciated just the same.”
Ewan shook his head and took another sip of wine. “Don’t mention it again, please. It’s the least I could do for you.”
Lady Theodora took another spoonful of soup. “Yes, you mentioned having the chair would help me to move around the house and property. Am I allowed to go anywhere on the property then, my lord?” She eyed him expectantly.
Ewan furrowed his brow. “Yes. I don’t see why not. We can arrange for the servants who don’t know you’re here to be out of a certain area when you visit if that’s what you mean.”
She leaned forward farther, still eyeing him carefully. “Anywhere? There’s nowhere that is off limits?”
Ewan frowned. “If you mean the stables, I can definitely help you get out there. I may need to inform a couple of the stablehands that you’ll be there. That would expose more people to your secret. But if you’re fine with that—”
“Oh, I would love to go to the stables,” Lady Theodora replied. “But I actually meant to ask about the house itself. Am I allowed to go anywhere in the house?” She continued to eye him as if she was expecting him to suddenly come up with an area that was off limits.
Ewan narrowed his eyes on her. “I don’t understand. Is there somewhere in the house you particularly wish to go, my lady?”
She quickly reverted her attention to her meal and poked her spoon idly around her soup bowl for a few moments. “Oh, no. Nowhere in particular. I just wouldn’t want to go somewhere I wasn’t welcome.”
Ewan shook his head. “If you need help getting around, I’m happy to assist you.”
“Thank you, Lord Clayton. I appreciate that.”
Ewan cleared his throat. Now was the perfect time to bring up a subject he’d been meaning to. “Yes, as to that, after living under my roof, I feel as if you should call me Ewan.”
Surprise registered for just a moment on Lady Theodora’s face before it was replaced with a bright smile. “Very well. You may call me Thea, if you like.”
“Thea?” He cocked his head to the side. “Not Theodora?”
She chuckled. “No one calls me Theodora.” She drew out the long name and said it in an overly formal tone as if mocking it.
“Your father does,” Ewan pointed out.
Her eyes turned hard. “No one but my father calls me Theodora,” she clarified, her voice flat.
It was time to change the subject. After last night’s debacle where he’d clearly made her sad by bringing up her lost mother and her former horse, Ewan was desperate to keep the discussion light this evening.
“Have you been to London much?” Ewan asked next as the footmen cleared the soup bowls and served the next course of mackerel with fennel and mint. “I don’t remember seeing you at many events.”
“I never go to London,” Thea replied simply. “I prefer the countryside.”
“Don’t you miss your friends?” Ewan asked.
She chuckled. “Maggie is my best friend.”
“Maggie?” He furrowed his brow. “Your maid?”
Thea nodded. “I suppose that seems unconventional of me to someone like you, but—”
He arched a brow. “Someone like me? What does that mean?”
Thea smiled and shook her head slightly. “I’m sorry, my lord … Ewan. I only meant that you seem to
be quite … conventional.”
His brow remained arched. “Conventional?” He wasn’t certain he liked the sound of that particular word.
“Yes, you know. Father told me you’re extremely interested in politics, which means I assume you like to follow rules and do things properly and you know, follow conventions.”
Ewan took another sip of wine. “Why in the world would you assume that?”
Thea waved her fork in the air. “Politics seem so proper and, well, conventional.”
“Would you be interested to know I’m a scientist?”
Thea bit her lip. “Now that you mention it, I do believe my father said something about that. What sort of science are you interested in?”
“At the moment? The science of the mind.” Ewan studied her face for her reaction.
“The mind?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve read quite a bit of research on the human brain. It’s capable of much more than we know, but it also can be injured in ways we aren’t aware of.”
“Yes.” Thea nodded, turning quiet. “My mother’s brain was injured.”
Ewan nearly dropped his fork. “It was?”
“Yes.” Thea nodded again.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to her?” he prompted, hoping he hadn’t made her feel uncomfortable with his question. Why did they always seem to end up speaking of such things?
“My mother loved to ride. It was her most treasured pastime.” Thea traced her fingertip along the bottom of her wine glass. “The reason Mama was sick was because she was thrown from a horse. She hit her head quite soundly. The doctors guessed her brain was bleeding. She didn’t speak for months, well over a year. She slowly wasted away.”
“And that’s when you took care of her?” Ewan prompted.
Thea nodded. “Yes. She couldn’t speak. Could barely write. But we managed to communicate.”
A lump formed in Ewan’s throat. “That must have been extremely difficult for you.”
“I loved my mother very much,” she replied, glancing away.
Ewan was left to wonder if that same sentiment extended to her father.
“I took care of Mama for the better part of two years. She died just a few days after my eighteenth birthday.”
A tug of pity pulled at Ewan’s heartstrings. What an awful time for a girl to lose her mother. Thea had lost her mother at the same time she would have been preparing to make her debut in Society. An awful thought struck him. “Was that why you didn’t have a debut? Is that why you didn’t marry?”
Thea’s gaze swung back to her plate. “Yes, that was why. I was in mourning and even though Father attempted to cut our mourning short in order for me to attend the events of the Season, I refused. And I refused to go the next year also.” Thea shook her head.
“Understandable,” Ewan replied softly. “So, your mother died from the injury to her brain then?”
Thea’s nostrils flared. “I didn’t say that. Mama wasted away from a brain injury. She died because she no longer had the will to live. I’m certain she could have recovered if she’d wanted to.”
Ewan could tell from the anger in her voice that Thea didn’t want to discuss what she meant by those words. He would not push her.
Thea shook her head and a smile popped to her lips. “At any rate, that’s enough of that talk.” She took another sip of wine. “What other sort of science are you interested in?”
Ewan was glad for the change of subject. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Thea sad again or bring up unhappy thoughts. “All sorts of things,” he replied, “like the best sorts of crop rotations and inventing a brace for a wheelchair.” He grinned at her. “But I’ve also talked to Edward Jenner about his vaccinae.”
Thea’s brows shot up. “You’ve spoken to Edward Jenner? Himself?”
“You’re familiar with Jenner?” Ewan couldn’t help the surprise in his voice. He’d never met a female who’d heard of Jenner.
“Of course I’ve heard of him. Why, I’ve read Inquiry into the Variolae Vaccinae Known as the Cow Pox. His concept that the vaccinae could prevent smallpox was nothing short of brilliant.”
Ewan stared at her again as if she was some sort of magical being. “I quite agree.”
“You do, however, realize that while Jenner may have invented the vaccinae, he wasn’t the first to come up with the concept.” Thea gave him a placating smile.
Ewan frowned. “He wasn’t?”
“No, actually,” Thea continued. “That distinction belongs to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who brought it back to England last century from the women of the Ottoman empire. Jenner was treated with her revelation as a child.”
Ewan’s brows shot up. “Is that so?”
“Yes, though I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked to learn you didn’t know that, given that you’re surprised a woman even knew about it, let alone invented it in the first place.” She blinked at him innocently, her smile still firmly in place.
Ewan inclined his head toward her and chuckled. “My apologies, my lady. You’re completely right, of course. Point taken.”
Thea waved her hand in the air. “Of course, I’ve also read Jenner’s paper on angina pectoris. His theory on the coronary arteries is quite fascinating as well.”
“You seem to be interested in medicine,” Ewan asked, eyeing her carefully again.
Thea glanced down at her plate. “I had to be.”
“Why is that?” Ewan took a bite of his mackerel.
Thea dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “When my mother was sick, I read all I could in the medical field to understand what might be wrong with her. Hoping to find something that could help.”
Ewan eyed Thea over the top of his wine glass. Last night he’d realized that he’d misjudged her. Tonight, he realized that he had not only misjudged her, he had sorely underestimated the lady. She was witty and well-read, her closest friend was a maid, and she’d spent her time sewing a nightrail for one of his servants as a thank-you gift. This was all in addition to what he already knew, which was that she’d spent some of the most important years of her life caring for her invalid mother when she could have easily left that task to servants.
Far from her temperament being the reason she was a spinster, as he’d so uncharitably guessed when he met her, Thea had given up her marriage prospects to care for her ailing mother. Thea was far from the spoiled pampered princess he’d assumed to her be when she’d refused to stop sneaking into his stables.
Ewan drained his glass. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so wrong about someone. The fact that Thea’s mother had had a brain injury and Thea had tended to her for months was certainly a revelation as well. She obviously had patience and was caring if she was able to do that. Phillip’s injury was quite similar. In addition to being shot, he’d been thrown from his horse and hit his head.
For the first time since Thea had arrived, Ewan began to wonder if he could actually share his secret with her. Would she be willing to help? Could he trust her to tell her about Phillip?
Chapter Nineteen
“Please, Maggie, open the door. I need your help.” Thea sat in her wheelchair directly in front of her bedchamber door the next morning, staring at the thing as if it were an immovable boulder. It was the only thing that sat between herself and freedom. With the help of Maggie and Giles, she’d got into her wheelchair and propped up her leg. Now she wanted out of the room to go exploring. For one purpose and one purpose only. To find out who Clayton was hiding down the hall.
Dinner last night had been even more revealing than the night before. Specifically, Lord Clayton had revealed himself to be a man who did not believe that women knew much about medicine, that was for certain. Thea could almost laugh at the thought if it weren’t so aggravating. She’d demonstrated just how much she’d known, however, during their discussion of Edward Jenner. She could tell by the look on Ewan’s face that he’d been impressed with her knowledge.
/> As for what she’d revealed last night, somehow the blasted viscount had got her to talk even more openly about her mother. Other than Maggie and Anthony, who knew everything, Ewan was the only person Thea had ever told about her mother’s sadness.
The truth was that the doctors had believed her mother could have made a full recovery. But Thea knew something the doctors didn’t. Mama had been out riding Helena in the rain the morning of her accident because Father had left again for London, and his mistress.
Thea would never forget her mother’s words to her the night before. Wearing her nightrail, Thea had gone to Mama’s bedchamber to kiss her cheek and say goodnight as she always did.
Mama had looked so sad and pale. Her eyes were swollen, and she’d obviously been crying. Mama had recently told sixteen-year-old Thea the story of how Papa had a mistress in London. She’d had to explain to her what a mistress was. Thea had been aghast. She had little doubt that’s why Mama was crying.
“Did Papa make you cry again?” Thea had asked, placing a hand on her mother’s thin shoulder.
Mama had turned to Thea and grabbed her hand. “Listen to me, Thea. Don’t ever marry a man who doesn’t love you back. It’s pure torture.”
Thea had nodded at her mother, her eyes wide. Her throat had been too dry to reply. She hated seeing her mother that way, but she didn’t know what to say to comfort her.
“I mean it, Thea,” Mama had continued. “I’ve seen to it that you’ll have enough money to live on should you need it without marrying. You mustn’t be forced into it. Your father is leaving again tonight. To go back to London. Back to her. You won’t have to live a life like I’ve had to. You must marry a man who loves you undeniably.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Thea had nodded, kissed her mother, and left the room. Thea remembered seeing her father coming out of the adjoining bedchamber, two footmen scurrying in front of him carrying his trunks.
Save a Horse, Ride a Viscount Page 10
