by Abby Ayles
The problem now is that I do not know of anyone else who could perform this task. And then I thought of you. You have lived with aches and pains much of your life. Perhaps you would be able to persuade him to care for himself? And to nurse him back to health?
I know it is a lot to ask, but my little brother really needs help, and it may be the only way of assisting him.
I beg of you, please consider my request.
Yours sincerely,
Delilah Sinclair.”
Kitty was so surprised she read and re-read the letter a few times over. She didn't even hear as her father walked into the hallway.
“What have we here? Why are you standing by the front door? There are cracks under the door, you will catch cold,” her father said.
“I have received a letter from Delilah Sinclair,” Kitty said. “But it's ridiculous.”
“That name rings a bell,” Baron Langley remarked. “I think Delilah Sinclair was present at the gala on the night you were punished.”
Kitty nodded. “Yes, she came and spoke to me. Seemed a lovely young woman. A friend of yours?”
“No, she was someone important, I can't quite put my finger on it... What is she like?” Baron Langley asked.
“Very tall and graceful, black hair, basically stunning,” Kitty said. “She's very warm and friendly too, so happy to talk to me even though she did not know me.”
“Red dress, very thick hair and blue eyes?” Baron Langley asked.
“That is her, yes.”
“She is not so young, Kitty, but I know who you mean. She was talking to some very important people at the gala,” Baron Langley remarked. “What has she written to you about?”
“She says that her little brother has injured himself and needs someone to help look after him and nurse him back to health, and she is asking me,” Kitty explained.
“Do you wish to go?” Baron Langley asked.
Kitty did not hesitate. “I would love to. She seemed so nice, and it would be something new for me. Besides, how could I let a little boy down? The poor child is no doubt suffering, and must want someone to sympathize with him.”
“Do you really wish to do something so sudden?” her father asked, taken aback. “It may be dangerous, and you will be living away from home. I wouldn't be there to care for you.”
She could hear pain in his voice. She knew he wanted her to say it was scary and she didn't want to go. But she couldn't lie to him. She needed to seize the moment.
“I just wish for a little freedom,” Kitty said meekly. “Just to be able to go out and do things with other women. Even if this is a bit unorthodox, I would enjoy it.”
“I see,” Baron Langley replied.
“Do you... do you not want me to go?” Kitty asked.
“I do not want you to go. I would rather keep you here, where I can see you and look after you. Nevertheless, I think it would be very good for you to go and help her. It would help improve your standing, and you would also be in the company of people who you consider friends,” he replied.
“So I may go?” Kitty asked, astonished.
“Of course you may. It is just a friend and her little brother. And your friend is a woman of standing. It is a fantastic idea to move in with them a while, and teach them from your own experiences,” her father explained.
Kitty grinned. “Thank you so much, daddy,” she replied.
“Besides, that is just the sort of thing which your mother used to do. And her recklessness led to me, and to you. I can put my faith in that,” he said, hugging her.
“I doubt I shall find love, but at least I may find fulfilment,” she replied.
“As long as my little girl is happy, I do not care,” he said.
Chapter 5
Kitty was relieved to find out that Delilah Sinclair did not live very far. Although she had always dreamed of setting off on her own adventures, actually going somewhere unfamiliar concerned her. She had only ever experienced her home and the retreat ever since she was a little girl. It was nice to know that even though she was going on an adventure of her own, she would be within a two-day journey from home. And besides, a longer coach ride might have upset her joints. Two days, stopping at an inn on the way, was no trouble at all, and she knew she would be able to move normally as soon as she got out of the coach.
As they drove in through the gates, Kitty was taken aback by how well Delilah Sinclair lived. Her father had not been wrong when he assumed she was someone of importance.
The estate was quite a bit more than she had expected. The grounds stretched out so far, and were so full of exotic plants, it felt like she was moving into another country, all owned by Delilah's family. As the building itself became visible through the final row of silver birch trees, Kitty spied some enormous, spiky plants arranged around a fountain so vast she wondered if it carried a year's worth of water or five.
Stepping outside, Kitty felt tiny in front of the huge white pillars and the looming doors of the house. The driver carried her bags up the stairs and rang the doorbell as she made her way up the steps more slowly, taking in every little feature, every carving and every accent, on the face of this magnificent building.
The door opened slowly and a servant guided them both inside. The building was as amazing inside as out. The walls and floor were gleaming marble, and the marble stairs were adorned with a rich red carpet, held down by weighty metal bars so it hugged each individual step. The furnishings were deep mahogany, and items from around the globe clung to every wall, shelf, and table. An elephant's tusk, a Turkish carpet, a bear skin rug, and a vast brass gong were the biggest items Kitty could see, but around them cluttered countless smaller artefacts.
And yet before she could go and look at them, Delilah appeared at the top of the stairs, looking relieved.
“I am so glad you could make it!” Delilah said, gliding down the stairs and embracing Kitty warmly.
“I would not refuse you,” Kitty replied. “It is clear that you need my help, and I shall endeavour to do everything you need me to do.”
“Anything you can do at all is a blessing,” Delilah said. “He refuses all sorts of treatments. Doesn't trust doctors at all. I'm at my wit's end.”
“And where is your brother now?” Kitty asked.
“In his room, in bed,” Delilah said.
“Can he move at all?” Kitty asked.
Delilah shrugged, exasperated. “I have no idea. He won't move, but the doctors can't even inspect him to see if he needs some support or if he is just tired.”
“I see,” Kitty said. “Is there any reason for this?”
“He is sulking,” Delilah replied, shaking her head. “But I have no doubt that you shall get through to him in no time.” She began walking up the stairs. “Come with me, I shall introduce you to him.”
“What is his name?” Kitty asked. “And why do you think I can get through to him?”
“Augustus,” Delilah said. “And he doesn't listen to doctors. But you are not a doctor. You are just another person who has experienced joint problems.”
“So it is his joints?” Kitty asked.
Delilah looked aside. “Yes, when he was found his back was twisted and his knee was completely out of place. They managed to reposition everything before he came to, but now he refuses any and all examination to determine the state of his insides. Here we are.”
They arrived in front of a tall, dark, ornate door, where Delilah stopped and knocked. Nobody inside said anything. She knocked again. Still no reply.
Delilah shrugged, swung the door open, and ushered Kitty in, following close behind her.
It quickly became apparent to Kitty that although he was younger than Delilah, Augustus Sinclair was not a little boy. In the bed lay a man, of at least thirty years, with thick black hair and a day of stubble, fast asleep between the pillows.
The blankets had slid down to his waist, revealing that he was wearing nothing but a light vest on top. A vest which was stretched at
the arms and neck, revealing broad shoulders and a muscular, lightly hairy chest. A vest which clung to him so tightly that Kitty could see each outlined abdominal muscle, and even his belly button.
His chest rose and fell steadily with each breath. He stirred a little. The blankets slid down further, revealing a part of his flesh between the bottom of his vest and the top of his long johns, his hip bone and taut muscle fully in view.
“Great. He is sleeping,” Delilah said quietly. “We may do well to leave the introductions until later. He hates to be woken up. Come, let's get tea and discuss what you can do to care for him.”
“But, he is a man,” Kitty replied nervously.
“Yes, he’s my brother,” Delilah said with a quiet giggle. “Did you expect a woman?”
Kitty tried to look away from him, her face growing warm. “I simply... I had assumed that he was... I thought he was a boy,” she stammered nervously. “You did say he was your younger brother.”
“Yes, younger by five years,” Delilah said, “but very much a man. Will that be a problem?”
“I am not sure I can be a nurse to an adult man, Delilah,” Kitty explained. “It is improper. My reputation will be ruined.”
“Nonsense,” Delilah replied. “All you are doing is keeping an eye on a friend's brother. You shall not be in a room alone with him, you shall sleep in your own room at night. You will administer him medicine and nothing else. It is a very noble thing for the daughter of a Baron to do for an Earl.”
This also took Kitty aback. “An Earl?” she whispered to herself. Her eyes landed on the beautiful man lying in the bed at the far end of the room. That man was an Earl? He looked so rough, so unkempt, so rugged. She would have taken him for a noble's mischievous son, perhaps, but not for a man with a title all of his own.
“Besides, nobody will know,” Delilah continued. “It will be between the four of us and the doctors, nobody else.”
“The four of us?” Kitty asked hesitantly.
“Yourself, your father, myself, and my brother, of course,” Delilah responded. “Nobody else needs to know.”
Kitty sighed. “I am not convinced of this, Delilah. It seems wrong.”
“It is not,” Delilah insisted. “Please, I beg you, please help us.”
Kitty could feel Delilah's words pulling at her heart strings. But then she glanced at the sleeping man again. Earl Augustus Sinclair. He was too attractive, too desirable. There would be talk. “Promise me nobody else will ever find out,” Kitty said.
As they spoke, Earl Sinclair's eyes fluttered open and landed on the two women. For a moment he seemed a bit dazed, then he focused on them. Kitty looked into his dark eyes and saw something she had not seen before. A strange combination of pain and desire, as his eyes scanned her figure. He smiled groggily and pushed himself up on the pillows.
Then he winced with pain and let out a groan, collapsing back, only sitting up a little straighter than before.
Kitty blushed, noticing that the movement had further pulled up his vest, revealing much of his hard, chiselled stomach, shining with a faint layer of perspiration, heaving with his pained breaths. She looked away and tried to fix her eyes on a painting across the room, but they kept being drawn back to that naked flesh.
“You are both making far too much noise,” he said, closing his eyes. “Go away if you shall bicker.”
“Do not be like that, brother,” Delilah replied. “She is the girl I told you about. The Baron's daughter, the one with rheumatism. She has very kindly offered to look after you, so that you do not have to go to a hospital, and now you are going to scare her away with your rudeness.”
Earl Sinclair just groaned in what seemed like a combination of frustration and pain. He cracked open one eye. “Very well, she may sit with me.” He made no effort to move, or to cover himself.
Kitty looked to the bedside, where there was an empty chair. She had just wanted to leave. But something about him stirred something in her. The pain was something she knew, something she understood. And his stubbornness reminded her of her own father. She wanted to help him. She wanted to take away this beautiful man's pain. Someone who looked so wonderful did not deserve to wear such a pained expression.
Striving not to look at his bare stomach and hips, Kitty sat down beside Earl Sinclair's bed. “How are you feeling today? Your sister said you had an accident last night,” she began.
“I am feeling rotten, I am in agony, and those bird-witted doctors must have done something horrible to my back because it feels broken from top to bottom,” he replied, turning his head to face her, making eye contact.
She wanted to reply, but she tried to feel more compassionate. “I understand. It must be unusual for someone who was once healthy to experience so much pain all of a sudden. A bad day takes even me by shock.”
“What do you do on a bad day?” he asked.
“I rest,” she replied. “There is nothing more to do. The body heals itself very well, but it needs rest. Unless you want some ointments—”
“No,” he interrupted her. “No ointments. No herbs. No pills. Nothing of the likes. I will not have some snake oil salesmen trying to poison me just so they can charge to cure me.”
* * *
“You do not trust doctors?” she asked. “Very well, we shall use no medicine.”
His lips curled into a soft smile. “Ah, so you understand me, do you? Very well, then. You may be my nurse. But if you insult me or undermine my pain I shall fire you.”
And with that he sank into his pillows, almost immediately falling back asleep. Kitty stood up, trying not to look at his bare stomach again as she walked over to where Delilah was.
What a curious man he seemed to be already!
In some ways he reminded her of her father. He was gruff and stubborn, and he would only have things his own way. He was commanding her as though he believed he had a right to, and yet she felt compelled to look after him, if only because through all that stubbornness she could spot a hint of fear, of weakness, that he was trying to defend.
And yet in some ways he reminded her of her mother, especially after the illness, when she was despairing, had lost all her faith in medicine, and turned to God to either cure her or take her from this Earth.
“So, shall you stay, or am I forcing him into hospital?” Delilah asked as they walked out of the room.
“I shall stay,” Kitty replied.
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The Lady’s Gamble
Chapter 1
Regina Hartfield concentrated on her stitches. Elizabeth was banging away at the pianoforte just one room over. It was threatening to disturb her calm.
She did feel rather bad. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault she couldn’t play well. And she wasn’t trying to disturb anybody. But every time it gave her such a headache.
“Elizabeth!” Natalie entered the room. Her hair was only half done up. “For the love of all that’s holy would you stop! You can hear it through the whole house!”
The pianoforte stopped. Regina breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Honestly,” Natalie grumbled. Then she spied Regina. “Oh, darling, you must start getting ready!”
“I don’t think I shall be going tonight.”
“But you must!” Natalie looked crestfallen. Although part of that might have been her half-done hair. “Regina, everyone will be there.”
“Precisely.” Regina focused back on her stitching. The idea of being among such a large crowd of people for hours terrified her.
“Have you told Father?” Natalie asked.
Regina didn’t answer. She was a horrible liar. And she hadn’t told Father. She’d tactfully avoided the subject of tonight’s ball all week.
She had been hoping that, being ensconced in the side parlor, she could avoid Father. Then when it was time the flurry of her four elder sisters climbing into the carriage would di
sguise her lack of presence. By the time Father realized she wasn’t there they would hopefully be halfway to the ball. Far too late to turn back for shy mousy Regina.
It was too late for that now. Natalie would be sure to tell Father.
“I think that you should go,” Natalie maintained. “It’s always such fun.”
“For you it is,” Regina replied. It was widely maintained that Natalie was the prettiest of the Hartfield sisters.
Regina supposed that depended upon one’s taste. Natalie was the only sister with blue eyes. That helped her to stand out, certainly. Paired with a sweet, heart-shaped face and dark red hair, every man in the county wanted to marry her.
Personally, Regina preferred the cat-like green eyes of her other sisters. Not that Regina took after them. She had red hair like all of her sisters. Gotten from Mother, God rest her soul. But Regina had boring brown eyes and far too many freckles. She was tiny as well. Elizabeth liked to joke about Regina being the runt of the litter. What man wanted to dance with a girl when he had to crane his neck down to look at her?
It wasn’t her looks that truly made Regina reluctant to go to the ball. She just didn’t like people. And all that exercise. She wasn’t the adventurous type. A quiet evening stitching and reading suited her just fine.
Not that Father would see it that way.
“It would be fun for you as well if you would make an effort,” Natalie replied.
“I’m sure that stitching would be just as fun for you if you made an effort,” Regina pointed out.
Natalie sniffed. She’d always hated stitching. “I’m going to finish getting ready. You should as well. Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth appeared, looking peevish. Elizabeth was the second youngest and had taken to it like a martyr. Her red hair was orange and fiery to match her temper and her green eyes were always flashing.
“It’s hours yet, Natalie, I don’t have to get ready.”
