by Rose Pearson
Gideon closed his eyes. He knew what his duty was and, despite the fact that he was to bring their engagement to an end, he knew he had to go to London to be by Georgina’s side.
“I must write to her father and then prepare to go to London,” he said, throwing back the bedcovers and swinging his legs to the ground. Attempting to stand, he felt a wave of weakness rush through him which forced him to sit back down on the edge of the bed.
Francine shook her head. “You cannot make the trip immediately, Gideon, not in your weakened state. Write to her father, yes, but prepare to leave the estate by the week’s end.”
“No,” Gideon replied firmly, frustrated that his limbs would not do what he wished them. “I must go now.”
“But you cannot,” Francine replied, gently. “Gideon, you would collapse on the way to the carriage. Please, think carefully. Make preparations for the end of the week, when you will have enough strength to travel. I will come with you, of course, as will mama.”
Gideon shook his head. “No, you will both remain here. London is rife with the disease and I will not endanger you again.” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling frustrated and angry that he could not go to London just as soon as he wished. “But you are right to urge me to wait. I will do so.” His mind filled with thoughts of Josephine and Georgina, feeling sympathy and sadness for his betrothed. She would be enduring all that he had experienced, without any of the comforts of being at home. How she had ended up in the Devil’s basement, he could not imagine, growing all the more concerned that Viscount Armitage, Georgina’s father, had as yet not been heard from.
“Georgina will receive the best of care, Dunstable,” Francine said, softly, one hand on his arm. “If it is Josephine caring for her then you know full well she will be taken care of. It says here in the letter that Josephine is staying by her side, day and night, with the awareness of just how important a person she is to you.”
A small groan escaped Gideon’s lips. He had not thought that Josephine would discover the truth about Georgina, never once letting himself consider the idea of talking to her about the matter, but now that he saw they were both together regardless, he wished he had done so.
“Did Josephine know about Georgina before she left this house?” he asked, his voice fragmented as he looked at his sister. “I had not told her and –”
“I told her,” Francine replied, softly. “I did not mean to cause you any trouble, Dunstable.”
“And is that why she left?” Gideon persisted, fixing his sister with a stern gaze. “Is that why she turned away from me and my house?”
Francine looked back at him steadily. “I think Josephine cares for you very much, Dunstable,” she replied, softly. “But she believes that her place can never be by your side.”
“And I cannot blame her for that,” Gideon sighed, flopping back against his pillows. “This is becoming a somewhat twisted mess, is it not?”
Francine smiled sympathetically. “Go to London, Dunstable. See how Georgina fares. The most important thing at this present moment is that she recovers. After that, you will have to see what comes of it all.”
Chapter Fourteen
Josephine looked up to see two figures coming into the basement, her breath catching in her chest as she realized it was none other than Lord Dunstable, accompanied by Sam. Sam was indicating the bed near to where Josephine stood and she moved away at once, unable to be in Lord Dunstable’s presence. She could not bear to have him look at her, could not bear to have him see her standing there, in her dirty gown and matted hair whilst he looked after his dear bride to be.
Her heart ached as she stumbled away into the shadowy darkness, neither wanting to be seen or heard. Doctor Thomas was with Georgina at the moment which meant she had no reason to linger. There were plenty of others who needed her.
And yet, as she stepped away, her heart filled with relief and gladness that she had seen Lord Dunstable so restored to health and strength. It was a very strange sensation, to be so filled with delight and yet feel so much pain in equal measure. Closing her eyes for a moment, she put one hand on the grimy wall, steadying herself. She knew that he would come, hadn’t she? The moment she’d sent him a note to say that Miss Wells was here, she’d known that he would come to her. To see him now, so worried and concerned over his betrothed, brought a fresh stab of pain to her heart. She had been so foolish to think that what he had confessed to her was the truth of his heart. It had been words from the depths of his delirium and nothing more.
“How is she faring, doctor?”
Lord Dunstable’s voice filled the basement and Josephine had to drag in yet another breath, feeling as though she wanted to run far from this place. She could not bear to hear him speak, could not bear to lay her eyes on him and yet she knew there was no escape.
“She is doing a good deal better, my lord,” Doctor Thomas replied, with a hint of relief in his voice. “The fever broke only this morning. I think that soon, she will be able to return home to rest and recover there.”
Josephine let out her breath slowly, going in search of her cloths so that she might start tending to others. Let Lord Dunstable and the doctor speak. That part of her life was over now and the sooner she forgot about Lord Dunstable, all the better.
“You have Josephine to thank for her care, however,” she heard the doctor say, freezing in place as he spoke. “That girl has barely left Miss Wells side since the moment she came in. She stated that she knew how much the lady meant to you, my lord.”
There was silence from Lord Dunstable and Josephine remained exactly where she was, bowl in hand, unable to do so much as turn her head to see if he was searching for her in the gloom of the basement.
“Josephine is a marvel,” Lord Dunstable said, eventually, his voice a little louder than before as though he wanted to ensure she heard every word he said. “I cannot thank her enough for what she has done – both in my own house and now here. She is an angel.”
Doctor Thomas let out a long breath. “I would agree,” he replied, as Josephine managed to throw him a quick glance over her shoulder, her breath coming out raggedly as the threat of tears began to grow all the more. “I do not know what I would have done without her.”
Josephine could not listen to anymore. The urge to run to Lord Dunstable and throw her arms around him, to tell him that she was so very glad to see him happy and safe once more grew steadily, and yet the knowledge that he was to marry Georgina Wells threw all that into disarray. He was not hers to embrace. He was not hers to love. He belonged to another and she could never take her place.
Brushing tears from her eyes, Josephine set down the bowl with a clang and, unable to look at anyone, quickly made her way from the basement. Climbing the stairs, she moved into the church itself, not daring to go outside just in case Lord Dunstable should follow her out.
The church was quiet and she crept into a pew, feeling the hard wood against her back as she sat down. There seemed to be no-one else present. She didn’t know where the vicar was or what had become of him. Had he caught the fever too? Was he lying sick somewhere?
The enormity of the present situation swam over her, forcing her to bow her head. The fever had swept through the city and taken so many lives and, whilst she had done as much as she could, there was always more for her to do. The life she had once had with Lord Dunstable, as tiring as it was, had been a taste of an altogether different existence and, for a time, she had lost herself in that. She had let her heart feel things she ought never to have allowed herself to feel, had let her mind dream of what she might have with Lord Dunstable. It was all her own fault. She had not remained detached and unaffected as she should have done.
Even now, memories assailed her. Memories of talking and laughing with Lord Dunstable. Memories of sitting with him quietly, praying silently that the fevers of his mother and sister would break. Memories of how they had shared together, learning from one another and finding an intimacy she had never experienced bef
ore. All gone, now, just as it should. Her life in the Dunstable estate had never been meant to continue. She had, for a time, forgotten that.
“Josephine.”
Looking up, Josephine felt her breath hitch as Lord Dunstable stood at the end of the pew, looking at her with such a joyful expression on his face that she felt her heart break all over again. He was glad that Miss Wells was recovering, which, of course, she was too – but there was something more there. It was a love in his eyes, she thought to herself, unable to look at him any longer. Turning her head away, she forced herself not to cry, forced herself to remain strong as he came to sit by her, his closeness only adding to her agony.
He loved Miss Wells. It was obvious to her now. Foolish, foolish woman that she was! She had taken what he had said in the depths of his delirium and had believed it to be true, even if only for a moment. There had been a hope flickering in her heart ever since then, refusing to be quenched no matter how much she had told herself that she was being ridiculous.
Now, however, it had died completely. Seeing the love in Lord Dunstable’s eyes had only confirmed what she’d never really wanted to believe. He loved Miss Wells, the woman of quality he was to marry. Miss Wells, who was proper in every way, she had no doubt. Not compared to her, the urchin from the streets who had nothing and nobody to call her own.
She sniffed and heard Lord Dunstable sigh heavily.
“My goodness, Josephine, we are in a muddle,” he said, slowly. “But I came here to thank you for what you have done for Georgina. And for me.”
Nodding, she kept her gaze trained on her feet, unable to look at him for fear she would break down completely. “You are quite welcome, Lord Dunstable. I knew how much she meant to you.”
There was a short pause. One where Lord Dunstable did not either confirm nor deny what Josephine had said.
“Francine told you about her?” he asked, a little stiffly.
“She did,” Josephine confirmed, hating that her voice was shaking just a little.
He sighed. “I should have done so myself. I –”
“You are not obliged to tell me anything, Lord Dunstable,” Josephine interrupted, not wanting to be reminded of how close they had become. “I was merely in your house for a time to help your mother and sister with the fever. I am glad I was able to do so.”
Much to her horror, Lord Dunstable reached across and took her hand. Her heart burst to life as their fingers met, his touch already so familiar and yet so unwelcome. She wanted to lean into him, wanted to cry out that she had missed him desperately, that she had clung onto his words for so long – but instead, she sat stiffly, forcing herself not to outwardly react.
“I should have spoken to you about Georgina,” Lord Dunstable said, softly, his fingers tightening on hers. “It was wrong of me to confess my feelings when I am engaged to another. I am sorry, Josephine.”
She did not know what to make of this, confusion spiraling through her mind. His feelings? Did that mean that he had, at one time at least, felt something for her?
“Things are very different now,” he continued, a little sadness tinging his words. “I must care for Georgina. Her father cannot be found and I fear that he too has the fever – although where he might be I cannot tell.”
“I see,” Josephine replied, not knowing what else to say on the matter.
“I think that I should remove Georgina to her townhouse as soon as she is able,” Lord Dunstable continued, although why he was telling Josephine such things as this, she could not quite understand. “Her companion is a little recovered also, although it will take some time for her to regain her strength. There is a good deal I must do. I must find Georgina’s father, Viscount Armitage, for one. In addition, I must continue to ensure that Georgina receives the highest care.”
Josephine nodded blindly, her eyes unseeing as she heard him speak. She would not see him again after this. Their time together was over for good and, in a way, Josephine was glad.
“Will you come with me, Josephine?”
His question shot a lightning bolt through her and she sat bolt upright, turning tear-filled eyes onto him.
“I know it is a lot to ask of you, but Georgina needs the highest level of care. There is no-one better than you.”
She closed her eyes tightly, feeling one single tear fall onto her cheek. “No, my lord,” she replied, knowing that as much as she wanted to help Georgina, she could not bring herself to see Lord Dunstable with his bride to be. “I cannot. There are people here who need me.”
His disappointment was immediately evident. “I quite understand,” he replied, his shoulders slumping. “I should not be selfish, I know, but –”
“She is important to you, I quite understand,” Josephine interrupted, wishing desperately that their conversation would be at an end so that Lord Dunstable would leave her to her misery. “You need not explain.”
There was a short, strained silence.
“Our engagement was arranged.”
She looked at him then, her tears drying on her cheek.
“I had very little choice in the matter and, until some weeks ago, I did not think that it mattered all that much. However, now, I find myself struggling. Struggling to know what is best to do, what is right for me to do.” His eyes met hers, his fingers beginning to thread through her own. “Josephine, can you forgive me?”
She did not know what precisely it was that he was asking her to forgive him for and so stared at him blankly.
“I should have been open with you from the start,” he confessed, seeing her expression. “I should have spoken to you about Georgina but my heart and my mind have been warring for some time and it all became much too confusing. I am sorry, Josephine.”
Somehow, she managed to nod and give him a small smile, which, despite the tearing of her heart, he seemed to accept.
“What will you do now?” he asked, rising to his feet. “When the Devil’s basement no longer needs you?”
She did not move but stayed exactly where she was, longing to be alone. “The doctor has said he will help me. I trust him to do that.”
“The doctor is a good man,” Lord Dunstable said, softly. “I am glad he will care for you, Josephine. Again, thank you for all you have done. I do not think I can ever find the words to express just how grateful I am. You are an angel sent to help me and my family and what you have done can never be praised highly enough.”
Her eyes fastened on him, wanting to keep a hold of him for as long as she could and yet knowing that their parting was imminent. “I pray you will all remain in excellent health for the rest of your days,” she said, not quite sure what else to say. “Thank you, Lord Dunstable.”
With a swift suddenness, he came back towards her, leaning over and kissing her cheek. His lips lingered there for a moment too long and Josephine’s breath caught. His nearness, his closeness, burned into her mind and her soul, her eyes closing tightly against the flood of tears.
And then, he was gone.
Josephine let out a ragged breath, fighting back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. Lord Dunstable would take Miss Wells back to her townhouse and then, in time, back to his estate as his wife. The foolish dream she had once allowed herself to create now shattered all around her, the pieces piercing her skin as they fell.
She had to let him go. She had to forget him, to push him from her heart and let go of all that she felt. There was nothing for her and Lord Dunstable to share, not any longer.
Her life would remain here, on the streets of London, whilst Lord Dunstable remained in his wonderful estate, in a life far removed from her own. They were worlds apart once again, completely separated and this time, for good.
It was an hour or so before Josephine felt able to leave the church and descend back down into the Devil’s basement. It was certainly growing quieter, with fewer and fewer patients being brought in to be cared for. She paused in the doorway for a moment, looking over the place that had become so familiar to h
er and was yet so terrible.
The other ladies who had come to help were soon not to be needed. Two had already left, their employment as maids having been returned to them. The other two would go soon too, Josephine thought to herself, knowing that they had a place to go. She, however, had nowhere to call her own. There was no home to return to, no family to welcome her in. All she had was Doctor Thomas’ kindness and assurance that he would not see her out on the streets again.
Of course, the other thing she had was Lord Dunstable’s coins, given to her so long ago. They were safe and secure, but she felt as though she did not want to use them. They would only continue to remind her of him, everything she bought, everything she used, would bring him back to her mind.
That was not what she wanted.
“Josephine?”
She looked up to see Sam coming near her, a worried expression on his face.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Sam,” she replied, with a quick smile, hoping that the dim light hid her red-rimmed eyes. “How is the doctor doing?”
Sam tipped his head. “Better today, I should think. There aren’t so many new patients and he’s been able to send a few more back home to recover. That Miss Wells is to be going tomorrow.”
Josephine let her eyes rest on where Miss Wells, now half sitting up against the somewhat dirty pillows, was looking up at Doctor Thomas with an expression of sheer gratitude on her face.
“Doctor Thomas has done wonders for her,” she said quietly, feeling no anger or upset about the lady’s presence here. “I am glad she has recovered.”
“So, it seems, is Doctor Thomas,” Sam murmured, one eyebrow lifted. “He’s been spending a bit more time with her that his other patients, that’s for certain.”
Surprised, Josephine turned to Sam expecting to see him laughing but he was doing no such thing. Instead, he was watching the scene in front of them with an almost calculated expression, as though able to surmise what the doctor intended for Miss Wells.
“I hardly think that is fair to the doctor,” Josephine said, quietly. “He is a good man and not likely to show favor to one lady simply because she is gentry.”
