by Bree Wolf
Sadness came to her father’s gaze as he nodded, and she knew that he felt guilty for bringing that man into their lives. As skilled as he was at reading people, her father had allowed himself to be deceived by Mr. Bragg due to his own desire to find a young man eager to be trained. A man who would secure his daughter’s future and see to the health of the people of Tamworth Village.
“Father, we need to talk about–”
A horse’s whinny interrupted her thoughts, and Evelyn turned to the window as the sound of wheels churning on gravel reached her ears. “Someone is coming,” she said, rising to her feet. The moment her gaze fell on the Ashwood crest on the carriage’s door, her heart beat faster.
“Who is it?” her father asked from his seat by the fireplace.
“A carriage from Farnworth Manor,” Evelyn called over her shoulder as she stepped up to the front door and pulled it open. A young man exited the carriage, his long strides carrying him closer. He had a friendly smile on his face, and stopping in front of her, he inclined his head to her. “Miss Procten, I presume.”
Evelyn nodded. “You’d presume right. How can I help you?” Although she had never met this man before, Evelyn knew him to be a footman at the Ashwood estate as he was dressed in the same black and gold livery.
“I’m Mr. Adams,” he introduced himself. “Lord Ashwood sent me here to call on Dr. Procten. His sister, Miss Davenport, has fainted, and he bade me to return with your father as soon as possible.”
Evelyn’s smile faltered. Had she not asked Lord Ashwood to call on her instead? Why would he ignore her request?
Sighing, Evelyn forced her hands to unclench, very well aware why Lord Ashwood would insist her father treat his sister. It was for the same reason Mr. Bragg had all but forbidden her to treat patients and Mr. Harvey had hesitated to allow her to relocate his shoulder.
Apparently, Lord Ashwood was yet another man who did not trust in her abilities.
Frustration surged through Evelyn as she recalled the man’s haughty gaze. However, the moment his silver-grey eyes appeared before her inner eye, she felt her heartbeat quicken and the breath catch in her throat.
Curse that man for the effect he had on her!
Where Mr. Bragg’s arrogant glare had always repulsed her, Lord Ashwood’s sharp, almost hawk-like gaze did something to her insides that she did not dare admit even to herself.
“Please come inside,” Evelyn mumbled, belatedly recalling her manners. Escorting the young man to the parlour, she introduced him to her father, who immediately sat up, his gaze narrowed with concern. “The young miss has fainted?” he asked, already pushing himself to his feet and ignoring Whiskers’ mewling protests. “We should leave immediately.”
“Father, you’re in no condition to travel,” Evelyn objected, trying to urge him to sit back down. However, as expected, he would not hear of it.
“Did you not hear what he said? We need to leave immediately.”
“I can go, Father,” Evelyn suggested, holding her father’s gaze. Although she still felt miffed by Lord Ashwood’s slight, she did not want her father to overexert himself.
Mr. Adams took a step forward, a hint of unease on his face. “I’m sorry but Lord Ashwood specifically asked for Dr. Procten.”
“I will go.”
At the sound of Mr. Bragg’s voice, Evelyn exhaled an annoyed breath. This was truly one of those days that ought to be stricken from the calendar.
Turning around, she met Mr. Bragg’s challenging gaze as he walked into the parlour, a touch of discomfort on his face as he set one foot in front of the other. “I’m Dr. Procten’s apprentice,” he told Mr. Adams. “I’m more than qualified to see to Miss Davenport.”
At a loss, Mr. Adams looked from Mr. Bragg to Evelyn’s father, at odds about how to decide.
“I will not stay here,” her father objected. “The late Lord Ashwood was one of my closest friends, and if his daughter is ailing, I will see to her.” His gentle eyes were hard, and Evelyn knew that there was no use in arguing with him.
“Fine,” she said, looking at Mr. Adams. “I suppose then we shall all go.” She turned to Mr. Bragg. “Unless you wish to stay behind?”
Staring at her, he slowly shook his head, the glare in his eyes all but promising retribution.
Offering her father her arm to lean on, Evelyn cursed her bad luck. Why did she have to be born a woman? Everything would be so much simpler if she were a man. After all, her father would not live forever. What was she to do once he passed? The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away.
Still, the day he would breathe his last, she would not only lose the only parent left to her, the one man who had supported and encouraged her throughout her life, but also the one thing she needed to be herself. Being a doctor was not what she did, but who she was.
Who would she be if she no longer was allowed to treat patients?
Chapter Three – A Delicate Situation
Pacing the length of his sister’s bedchamber, Richard watched as his mother gently placed a wet cloth on her daughter’s forehead. Stretched out on the bed, Claudia lay with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling evenly.
It was a strange sight for Richard, and he could not deny the lump of apprehension that settled in his stomach. Never had he seen his sister so still. She was always so vibrant, never remaining seated for long, always rushing from one place to another, her mouth rarely ceasing to speak her mind. When she entered a room, people noticed, people turned to her, sought her presence and welcomed her into their midst. With a smile and a few kind words, Claudia found friends wherever she went, and Richard could not help but envy her for the ease with which she found and claimed her place in this world. Despite her dire circumstances at present, Richard doubted that he was the happier of the two.
Still, her happiness might be snatched away by the threat of society’s censure, and so it was up to him to protect her and ensure that her future remained the carefree place she wanted it to be. Even if he had to force her hand. Perhaps one day she would come to see the wisdom of his decision and thank him for his tenacity.
He could only hope so.
“How is she?” he asked, glancing out the window for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Where is Dr. Procten? He ought to be here by now.”
“There is no need to worry, my son,” his mother counselled as she rose from the chair beside her daughter’s bed and walked over to where he continued to pace. “She merely fainted. That is not unusual in her condition. Was she agitated?”
Richard shrugged, staring at his mother. “Isn’t she always?”
A knowing smile came to his mother’s face. “She certainly is forceful in her demands and her idea of what is her due. Still, great sadness can hide behind a smiling face.” Sighing, his mother placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Remember that she is more than yours to protect, my son, but she is also simply your sister.”
Looking into his mother’s eyes, Richard found himself at a loss as his mother’s words did not seem to make sense. Was Claudia not his to protect because she was his sister? What did his mother mean? Was she criticising the way he looked after his family?
Not knowing how to reply, Richard kept silent, cursing his own inability to connect with others. Why was it that his sister seemed to possess that skill in abundance while he himself was more often than not completely at a loss when it came to understanding others?
When a soft sigh echoed over from the bed, his mother turned and hastened over to her daughter’s side, feeling her forehead, her watchful eyes intent on her child’s face. “Claudia, my dear, can you hear me?”
No answer came, and Richard’s heart clenched painfully. Still, a moment later, confusion drew down his brows when he saw a gentle smile curl up the corners of his mother’s mouth.
“She’s fine,” Lady Ashwood said, lifting her eyes to his. “She’ll come to shortly.”
Richard exhaled, momentarily closing his eyes. Step
ping closer, he wondered how his mother could tell. For all intents and purposes, Claudia looked as pale as he had ever seen her. Her eyes were still closed, and all the movement he was aware of was the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. What was he missing?
“Don’t worry,” his mother told him, her kind eyes suddenly fixed on his face instead of on his sister’s. “Before long she’ll be arguing with you again.” A soft chuckle escaped her.
Frowning, Richard tried to understand how his mother could be so cheerful. “I hardly think that is reason for joy, Mother,” Richard objected, unable to keep quiet. “With her headstrong attitude, she threatens to undo everything I am working so carefully to put into place.” He glanced at the door. “While I hope that the servants are not yet aware of her condition, it will not be long before she won’t be able to hide it. What will we do then? I was thinking it might be a mistake to have her here at Farnworth Manor for much longer. Perhaps we ought to remove her to a more remote estate, sending along only two or three trusted servants to care for her until the child is born.” As he spoke, Richard noted that his mother’s eyes had dimmed, and her lips seemed to be pressed together. However, he could not say if she simply disagreed with him or was more worried about her daughter than she had led him to believe. There could be a number of reasons, and one was as likely as any other.
At least for him.
Gently, his mother took her daughter’s hand into hers, her thumb brushing back and forth over the back of her hand. Then she looked up and met Richard’s gaze. “If you send her away, it’ll be the death of her.”
Annoyance washed over Richard, and the air rushed from his lungs. “I would ask you not to exaggerate, Mother. Perhaps a little peace and quiet will do her good.”
“It would do you good, my son,” his mother said, her voice determined. However, her gaze was gentle as she looked at him. “Your sister, however, needs company like the flowers need the sun. Alone, she will wither. You cannot send her away.”
“What if her condition is discovered?” Richard asked under his breath, his gaze once more darting to the door. He could only hope that no one had their ear pressed to the other side. “What if one of the servants talks? What if someone outside Farnworth Manor learns of this?” He swallowed. “She’d be ruined. For good. You cannot want this, Mother.”
“Of course not.” Closing her eyes, his mother inhaled a slow breath. “I admit I do not know what the right course of action is here. For it seems that every choice comes with a significant sacrifice.”
Richard frowned. “I would think that a few weeks of solitude is a small price to pay in order to avoid societal suicide.”
For a moment, his mother’s gaze swept over his face, searching, studying, as though she had never truly seen him before. “For you it might be a small price, but not for her.”
Before Richard could reply, a knock sounded on the door and Wilton, their butler, announced himself. Calling for him to enter, Richard strode toward the entrance, relieved to see Dr. Procten follow Wilton into the room. His hair seemed whiter than Richard remembered, and his breath seemed to rattle in his chest. Still, there was the usual air of authority about him, and Richard could not deny that he felt better knowing that his father’s oldest friend was here.
“Good day, my lord,” Dr. Procten greeted him before his gaze shifted to the still figure on the bed. “What seems to be the matter? Mr. Adams said she fainted.”
Richard nodded, trying to find the right words to inform the doctor of his sister’s condition. However, the moment he was about to open his mouth to reply, the air was sucked from his lungs when his gaze fell on the dark-haired, young woman standing in the doorway.
Richard barely took note of the doctor’s apprentice beside her. All he could see were her dark brown eyes, so wide and yet focused as they took in the room and then came to rest on his sister. Without even acknowledging his presence, she stepped forward and went to his mother’s side, whispering something he could not understand.
Richard knew of his mother’s fondness for Miss Procten as she had spent many days here at Farnworth Manor after his father’s passing. Upon losing the man she had loved almost all her life, his mother had succumbed to despair, refusing to see anyone, to leave her chamber, even to eat. It had been Miss Procten who had found a way to reach her, to bring her back from that black abyss of despair and return her to her children. It had taken weeks, but ever since then, Lady Ashwood had a soft spot for the doctor’s kind daughter in her heart as was evident by their almost familial greeting.
Back then, when Miss Procten had spent weeks in this house, Richard had found himself torn between the desire to seek her company and the fear that she would reject him. After all, Miss Procten seemed to have an uncanny ability to see into people’s souls, always knowing exactly what they needed. It was an ability that baffled but also fascinated him like nothing had ever before, for he could not for the life of him understand how she knew what she did. It was almost as if she could read her patient’s minds, responding to their needs before they had even had a chance to voice them.
It had been that thought, the thought that she might look into his mind, that had been–and still was–greatly unsettling for Richard. What would she see if she chose to look at him? Would she see what everyone else saw?
Despite his tendency to keep to himself, Richard was well-aware of his reputation as the cold-hearted viscount. He knew very well that people disliked his company and thought of him as strict and unfeeling. And a part of him did not even fault them for it because he feared that they might be right. After all, he could not even relate to his own sister. What did that say about him?
True or not, Richard knew with absolute certainty that he would not be able to bear having Miss Procten look at him that way, and so he kept his distance from her. When his mother’s health had improved, and Miss Procten had returned to the village, Richard had been relieved…and saddened at the same time.
And now she was back.
Right here.
Only a few steps away.
“My lord?”
All but flinching at the sound of the doctor’s voice, Richard forced his eyes from the man’s daughter and turned his attention to his father’s oldest friend. “I’m afraid this is a fairly delicate situation, Dr. Procten,” he said, glancing from his sister to the man’s apprentice now stepping into the chamber. “As it is, my sister finds herself in…dire circumstances.” Holding the older man’s gaze, Richard wondered if he would need to speak more plainly when he saw the doctor’s eyes widen slightly before his head bobbed up and down in acknowledgement.
In the back of his mind, Richard wondered if he would have understood such a mere hint of a suggestion. He doubted it very much.
“Therefore,” Richard continued, “I’d appreciate it if you could tend to my sister alone.”
“I understand your concerns,” Dr. Procten said, his voice kind as he spoke. “However, I’m afraid that my own health is not what it once was, which has led to the conclusion that it is time to train a successor.” He gestured to Mr. Bragg, a young man with a rather unpleasant expression on his face.
“Good day, my lord,” Mr. Bragg greeted him as he came to stand beside the old doctor. “I assure you I am highly qualified and will tend to your sister with the utmost dedication.”
Richard nodded. However, he could not help but dislike the man as his words clearly indicated that he had been listening to the quiet conversation between Richard and Dr. Procten. If he dared invade others’ privacy without deeper thought, would he treat his sister’s condition with the necessary confidentiality? Richard could only hope so.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Richard said, wishing he possessed Miss Procten’s ability to read others and see into this man’s mind. Involuntarily, his gaze drifted back to his sister’s bed and the young woman currently speaking to his mother.
“I find that my daughter has a very calming effect on female patients,” the doctor said, quite o
bviously in possession of that same unnerving ability as his daughter. “Women generally are more comfortable speaking to her about what ails them. If you do not object, I would suggest that she be the one to speak to your sister.”
Richard drew in a slow breath. Here was his chance to rid himself of Miss Procten, to send her home and reclaim his peace of mind. However, as much as he knew he ought to–for all the right reasons–he knew he could not. For deep down, his desire to have her near overruled every rational thought. Somehow over the past few months of her absence, his need for her had grown…and he had not even noticed.
Gritting his teeth, Richard cursed silently. Oh, why did she have to disregard his request? Why could she not simply have stayed behind? Why did she have to come?
Giving his approval, Richard stepped outside into the corridor, hoping that he had not just made a severe mistake in allowing Miss Procten to stay. Still, she would only be here for an hour or two. His sister would not require the same care as his mother had then, would she? The thought of Miss Procten once more staying under the same roof sent his heart into an uproar, and he clenched his teeth together painfully to keep from cursing out loud.
As he hastened down the corridor, he barely noticed Maxwell standing guard outside Claudia’s room, his eyes straight ahead and his arms linked behind his back, giving him the expression of a true guard rather than a footman. Still, Richard had no thought for the young man as he all but rushed to the sanctuary of his study. Only when the door was firmly closed behind him did he dare exhale the breath he had been holding.
What if he were wrong? What if Miss Procten would stay with them once more? Claudia and his mother would certainly be thrilled.
Great sadness can hide behind a smiling face.
As his mother’s words echoed in his mind, Richard realised that he was no closer to a solution with regard to his sister than he had been that morning. If his mother was right, then sending Claudia into isolation would pain her–in what way Richard could not fathom. However, if she stayed, he had no doubt that she would cause trouble due to lack of entertainment. Perhaps he ought to invite a few trusted friends for the holidays in order to pacify his sister and divert the servants’ attention at the same time.
