Or perhaps the duke did remember their estrangement, and that was why he was so frightened of death, and of being alone. Hell was not a pleasant thing to dream about. Garrett understood that. He also understood the desire to atone.
The duke was coming to the end of his life. His mind was failing him. Garrett found he could no longer bear a grudge toward the man for his mistakes in the past. He felt compassion for him now.
More importantly, there was forgiveness. And if he could forgive his father, perhaps he could forgive himself, too.
As the train pulled away from the station, Garrett felt a renewed sense of purpose. This morning he would travel to London to see Dr. Thomas. He would invite him to attend the wedding.
The wedding...
That, above all, was at the heart of this awakening. To be more specific, it was Anne. Anne, who harbored no bitterness toward those who had wronged her. Anne, who wanted a love that would last a lifetime. She did not let her past define her.
It must be all or nothing.
He would not insult her honor by offering her less. Today—if she would have him—he would become her true husband in all ways and pledge his heart, body, and soul to her until the end of time. He couldn’t wait to get down on one knee and propose to her properly, in front of everyone. Pray God she would accept him.
The train arrived at Paddington Station at 10:15 am. Garrett shouldered his way through the crowd and whistled for a hackney cab to take him to Dr. Thomas’s offices on Park Lane. Since he was arriving without an appointment, and wasn’t even certain if the clinic would be open on Christmas Eve, he instructed the driver to wait, for he might need to be taken to the doctor’s private residence in Mayfair.
He alighted from the vehicle and stepped onto the frozen walk, felt the sharp winter chill on his cheeks, and ventured inside.
As he closed the door behind him, he noticed a distinctive smell. Some sort of antiseptic perhaps, which was both unfamiliar and strangely interesting. There were a few ladies seated in chairs in a small waiting area. He removed his hat and gloves, then approached the desk to speak to a clerk, a young man with mustache and spectacles.
“Is Dr. Thomas in this morning?”
The clerk glanced up. “Yes, sir, but only until noon as it’s Christmas Eve, and I am afraid he is fully booked. Would you like to make an appointment for another day?”
Garrett tapped his gloves against his thigh. “It is a personal matter, and rather urgent. I would be grateful if you could inform him that I am here.”
“Your name?”
“Lord Garrett Sinclair of Pembroke.”
The color drained from the young man’s face. He set down his pen. “Pembroke Palace?”
“Yes.”
The clerk leapt to his feet. The chair legs scraped across the floor. “I do beg your pardon, my lord. Please forgive me. I will let him know you are here.”
Garrett thanked the young man and turned to take a seat under a tall potted tree fern.
While he waited, he let his gaze peruse the waiting area. Across from him a woman held a young child on her lap. The child appeared sleepy. Feverish perhaps.
Another older woman was reading a book. He wondered what ailed her, for she looked perfectly healthy in every way.
He then noticed a painting on the wall and stood up to examine it more closely. It appeared to be an artistic rendering of the human anatomy. He found it quite fascinating and was still studying the details when a door opened in the back hall.
The clerk returned to the waiting room. “Dr. Thomas will see you now, my lord. If you will come this way.”
Garrett followed the young man down a narrow, red-carpeted corridor. He peered into two empty examination rooms as they passed by. At the end of the hall, the clerk opened a heavy oak door and gestured for Garrett to wait inside. “This is the doctor’s private office. He will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.” Garrett entered the room and looked around at the dark green painted walls with tiger oak wainscoting, the piles of medical books in danger of toppling over on the sofa, and a set of tall bookcases on the far wall behind the large mahogany desk. Most notably, there was a life size skeleton on a stand by the window.
He strode to it immediately, reached out to touch the ribs, and discovered it was made of some sort of plaster.
Wildly curious, he couldn’t resist the urge to examine the joints. He squatted down and studied the knees, then the ankles and spine. What a fascinating reproduction of the human body. He was completely mesmerized.
Next, his gaze lifted to a framed painting on the wall. This one depicted a team of surgeons crowded around a body in a lecture hall, performing some sort of procedure while students looked on. He leaned close and squinted, trying to make out what the doctors were doing with their instruments when the door opened. Garrett turned around.
Dr. Thomas paused at the threshold and regarded him with a look of pleasure. “Lord Garrett. How nice to see you.”
Garrett stepped forward and held out his hand. “Nice to see you again, too, sir. I apologize for the interruption. I see you have patients waiting.”
“Only two more this morning. My nurse is with them now. What can I do for you?” He strode to the desk and set down the file he was carrying. “Please take a seat.”
Garrett sat in the leather chair in front of the desk while Dr. Thomas sat behind it.
Not quite sure how to begin, Garrett pointed at the skeleton. “That’s quite interesting,” he said. “You must find your profession very rewarding.”
“I do indeed,” Dr. Thomas replied. “What interests me most is that there never seems to be an end to the discoveries. I believe medical science is in its infancy. There are new diseases discovered and new theories formed every day. I am still a student in many ways. I suspect I always will be.”
“That is remarkable. I am very impressed.”
“And how is your father?” the doctor asked. “Is he recovering?”
“He’s doing well,” Garrett replied, “but I am here for a different reason, Dr. Thomas. It concerns something of a more...” He paused. “A more personal nature.”
Dr. Thomas leaned back in his chair and regarded Garrett uncertainly in the morning light streaming in through the paned window.
“I spoke to my mother yesterday,” Garrett continued. “It was an important discussion, one I wish we’d begun many years ago, but unfortunately that was not to be. Nevertheless, I now know the truth about my parentage and since I am to be married today, it was important that I see you. Surely you can guess why?”
Dr. Thomas cleared his throat and kept his eyes fixed on Garrett’s. “I believe I can. How much did your mother tell you?”
“Everything.”
Giant snowflakes began to fall outside the window. Garrett watched them for a moment.
Again, nothing felt quite the same as it had a few short days ago.
Dr. Thomas relaxed in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if she would ever tell you the whole truth. Mostly because I thought you might leave again after today, but I am pleased you know the particulars at last. It wasn’t easy for either of us all those years ago.”
“No, I should think not.”
Garrett swallowed over a sudden wave of emotion that rose up within him. All his life he had known he was a bastard. His mother had showered him with love, of course, but not his father—never his father.
He didn’t feel like a bastard now. He liked Dr. Thomas. He liked him very much. There was something about the doctor that made Garrett feel at ease...made him want to embrace the future.
In that moment, sitting in his real father’s office, he felt certain this was all meant to unfold exactly as it was unfolding. He wasn’t sure why yet, but believed it would eventually become clear.
”I am not sure how to proceed,” Dr. Thomas said. “It’s Christmas Eve, and I feel very blessed. I am proud that you are my son, and that you know the truth at last. I hope we can come t
o know each other better.”
“I would like that,” Garrett replied, “which is why I have come. I wish to extend an invitation to you, sir. Would you attend my wedding to Lady Anne this evening? It would mean a great deal to me.”
The doctor’s eyes filled with warmth and happiness. “I would be honored, Garrett. What time?”
“Five pm,” he replied, “but because Christmas is tomorrow, there is only one more train—at noon. It leaves from Paddington Station, and since I am the groom, I must be on it. Can you finish here in time and accompany me?”
Dr. Thomas stood up. “Absolutely. If you could wait here, I will be ready in half an hour.”
“Excellent.” Garrett stood up as well. “May I take a look at some of your medical books while I wait?”
“By all means,” Dr. Thomas replied as he departed the room. “I will be back soon.”
They caught the train in plenty of time and spent the two-hour journey talking about Dr. Thomas’s life as a young man and his decision to enter the field of medicine. Then they discussed Garrett’s childhood and his recent years in Greece.
Garrett told him about the boating accident. Dr. Thomas was sympathetic and urged Garrett to remember that he had done everything he could to save the boat and the passengers on board.
“Sometimes, nature is a beast,” he said, “and tragedy is unavoidable. I see a great deal of it in my profession, and I have learned that most of us must face some form of challenge in our lives. But without hardship, we wouldn’t learn and grow.”
Garrett absorbed every word of his father’s advice and reflected carefully about the accident for the remainder of the trip back to Pembroke. He thought about the settlement he would receive for marrying Anne today, and was more determined than ever to share it with Georgina’s family. Nothing could ever replace what they had lost, but it would at least ease Garrett’s conscience to know they would have no financial worries in the future.
By the time the train pulled into the village station, the snow was falling fast and the temperature had dropped. Garrett had previously arranged for the palace coach to be waiting. He and the doctor hurried through the biting wind and snow to reach it at the curb.
The driver was hunched over with his coat collar pulled tight around his chin, his wool scarf wrapped around his face to shield against the storm.
“It’s a fine day for a wedding, my lord!” he said good-naturedly as he tipped his hat at Garrett.
“Quite right, Jameson! How were the roads?”
“They were passable getting here, but we should leave without delay. Wouldn’t want you to be late for your own wedding!”
“Certainly not.” Garrett swung inside, where it was warm and sheltered from the wind.
He took a seat across from Dr. Thomas, who removed his hat and brushed the snowflakes off the brim.
“Are you nervous?” he asked with a teasing smile.
Garrett shook his head. “Not in the least. I cannot imagine marrying a more perfect woman. Odd, really. I’d always imagined one’s wedding day to be a daunting affair, but it’s not daunting at all. It feels right in every way.”
Dr. Thomas regarded him with understanding. “I know that feeling, as I felt it once myself, many years ago.”
The coach lurched forward and they drove past the snow-covered village green, then traveled down the hill beyond the mercantile and entered the woods.
Chapter Fifteen
“STOP! PLEASE STOP!”
At the sound of a voice on the road, Garrett slid across the seat and used his sleeve to rub at the fog on the window.
He peered out at a young boy in a short black coat, his red scarf flying in the wind. He had come out of the woods and was running alongside the coach.
Garrett stood up and pounded on the roof. “Hold up, Jameson!”
The coach pulled to a halt. Garrett flung the door open and jumped into the snow. Its depth caught him by surprise, for it nearly reached his knees.
The boy grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Please help me, sir! My brother fell through the ice! I tried to help him but I can’t get him out!”
Garrett immediately sought more information. “Where is he? At the fish pond?”
“Yes, sir!” The boy turned and pointed into the forest. “Just through there! I told him it wasn’t safe, but he wouldn’t listen!”
Garrett turned to Dr. Thomas as he stepped out of the vehicle. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes. We must hurry.”
“Jameson!” Garrett shouted. “A boy has fallen through the ice at the fish pond! Hand me your horsewhip and secure the team. Then follow us. We will most likely need your help.”
The coachman tossed the whip to Garrett and climbed down from the box.
Garrett and Dr. Thomas trudged through the snow into the shelter of the trees to follow the boy.
It seemed a terrible distance through stinging sleet to reach the pond. When at last they emerged through a heavy curtain of pine boughs, the wind was gusting like a fiend across the wide circle of ice.
“Good God,” Garrett said as he spotted the boy half submerged. He was not fighting to climb out. Was he even conscious?
“You there!” Dr. Thomas shouted, rushing forward. “Can you hear me?” The boy’s head lifted slightly. Dr. Thomas swung around. “He won’t last much longer.”
Garrett handed the coiled horsewhip to him. “I will crawl out to reach the boy. Throw me this line if I have trouble.”
Stepping onto the ice, Garrett bounced lightly to test his weight. It seemed secure.
“I’m coming!” he shouted to the boy as he leapt lightly across the frozen, snow-covered surface.
He dropped to his stomach as he drew near and crawled as close as he dared. “Grab my hand! Hurry!”
The boy was shivering violently. He lifted his eyes.
“I’m here to help you,” Garrett said. “Take hold of my hand and I will pull you out.”
“I...I c...can’t,” the boy stammered through chattering teeth as he shook his head.
“Yes, you can. Your brother’s waiting for you. He’s watching from the bank.” Garrett slid closer on his stomach and grabbed hold of the boy’s wrist. “I’ve got you now, but I can’t pull you out on my own. You need to kick. Can you do that?”
The boy weakly kicked with his legs. It wasn’t enough. Garrett reached out, hand over hand, to take hold of his arm and pulled with all his might, but he had no traction, no leverage. The boy’s eyes fell closed and he began to sink back, pulling Garrett with him.
Suddenly he was back on the deck of his boat. Johnny was laughing in the sun and the wind. It was such a perfect day. There was not a cloud in the sky...
Then the wretched look of terror in Johnny’s eyes as the wreckage pulled him into the dark stormy depths. I’ve got you...I won’t let go...hold on tight...
Grounding himself in the present, Garrett turned and shouted through the raging sleet and snow. “We need help!”
By then Jameson had arrived. “On my way!” He skidded fearlessly onto the ice, dove onto his belly and slid close enough to grab hold of Garrett’s leg.
Next, Dr. Thomas carefully trotted out and took hold of Jameson’s boot. Together they formed a human chain and pulled hard, grunting against the strain until the boy was drawn out of the hole. He opened his eyes and woke up.
“Can you walk?” Garrett asked.
“I...I don’t know.” His eyes rolled back in his head again.
The ice creaked and shifted beneath them. There was no more time. Garrett stood up, grabbed hold of the boy’s arm and hauled him quickly up onto the snowy bank and to the treeline.
They rolled him onto his back. “He’s not conscious,” Garrett said, tapping the boy’s cheek. “Wake up! Can you hear me? Wake up!”
“What’s wrong with him?” the younger brother cried. “Is he going to be all right?”
Dr. Thomas leaned in, pressed his fingers to the pulse at the boy’s neck and lowered h
is ear to listen. “He’s still breathing, but his pulse is weak. We need to get him out of these wet clothes. Help me carry him back to the coach.”
Garrett scooped the boy into his arms, wrapped him against his chest under his greatcoat, then began the difficult trek through the woods and back to the main road. The wind was against them and every step forward was like walking through water. Visibility was poor and it seemed to take forever to reach the road.
Jameson opened the door of the coach and helped Garrett lift the boy inside. He was so very heavy because of all the water in his clothes.
Garrett set him down on the seat. Dr. Thomas entered behind them, removed the boy’s sodden coat and shirt, then shrugged out of his own coat and wrapped it around the boy.
“Where do you live?” he asked the younger brother while he retrieved his black leather medical bag from under the seat. As he withdrew his stethoscope he asked, “How old are you and what are your names?”
“I’m Joshua Callaghan and I’m eleven,” he replied. “My brother is Marcus. He’s thirteen and we live at the end of Jacoby Lane, near the river.”
Dr. Thomas glanced at Garrett. “How far is that?”
“Not far. About two miles.”
“Is that the nearest cottage?” he asked.
Garrett turned questioningly to Jameson who was now standing in the snow outside the door.
“It’s closer than the village,” Jameson told them, “but I don’t trust that old cart road. The storm is getting worse. It might be best to stay on this road and return to the village. We could go straight to the local doctor.”
“Does he have a well-stocked medical office?” Dr. Thomas asked.
“I believe so, and he should be there, as he lives on the upper floor.”
“That sounds like the best option, then,” Dr. Thomas replied. “Take us there, Jameson, as quickly as possible, if you please.” Then he glanced across at Garrett with some concern. “I fear you may be late for your wedding.”
Married By Midnight (Pembroke Palace Book 4) Page 13
