Grace stared at her with those wide, emerald eyes. “Yes?”
“Is something the matter?”
“Ehm…” she looked away and fiddled with a perfume bottle on the vanity. “Not wrong, really. Just…”
“Come now, Grace,” Hannah pleaded. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise your secret is safe with me.”
“Well, that is just the thing.” Grace looked up and swallowed. “It isn’t a secret. As a matter of fact, you shall be the last to know.”
Hannah was starting to get irritated. What on earth was the matter with her sister-in-law? “Grace, I swear if you don’t tell me soon, I shall lunge from this bed and force you to tell me.”
Of course, they both knew that wasn’t true, but still, she had a point to get across.
“All right, fine.” Grace took a deep breath, her chest puffing up as her head lolled back to look at the ceiling. “The thing is…that is to say…”
“Grace!”
“I’m expecting!”
The world stood still. Everything fell silent. The only sound the whooshing of Hannah’s own breath in her ears. Her heart constricted, and tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, Lud! I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” Grace rushed to her side, nestling on the edge of the bed and taking her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Hannah chastised her, while trying to swallow down the lump in her throat. “Just because I can’t have children doesn’t mean you shouldn’t, for heaven’s sake.”
“The last thing I wanted to do was upset you, but it was going to come out sooner or later, and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”
“And I wouldn’t have wanted to hear it from someone else. I am so very happy for you, my dear Grace.”
“Truly?” Grace asked, her green eyes desperate for approval.
“Truly.”
And then Grace threw herself onto Hannah. Hannah hugged her back with a squeeze.
“Goodness, you can’t know how nervous I was to tell you,” her sister-in-law said as she sat up straight again. “Or how relieved I am to have done so.”
“Well, I’m sure it was a great burden, trying to keep it from me.”
They chatted on for a few minutes, and Hannah did her best to pretend she was all right. But in truth, she felt as if she were dying inside. Her heart ached, and her stomach churned. Was it possible to be so very distraught for herself, while also being thrilled for her brother and Grace? It seemed quite impossible, and yet, those two paradoxical emotions warred within her.
Hannah’s lunch tray arrived, but she’d lost her appetite completely. Instead of saying so to Grace, she simply sent her sister-in-law on an errand for her.
“Peonies!” she said, to which Grace blinked at her with great confusion on her brow. “I think they would brighten up the room, don’t you?”
“I suppose so. You don’t have any flowers, do you?”
Hannah shook her head, even though the statement was quite rhetorical, for one could plainly see there were no flowers in the room. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to go and get some?”
“Me?”
It was odd, sending her and not a servant, but Hannah wanted to be alone without telling her why. “You have such lovely taste. Please.”
That seemed to fluff her sense of pride. She smiled broadly. “All right, if you insist. I shall bring them back soon, I promise.”
“Don’t rush on my account,” Hannah replied with a forced smile.
Grace bounced out of the room and not a moment too soon. Hannah couldn’t hold back anymore. Ten years. Ten years she’d lain with that vile man, praying for a child, waiting, month after month in hopeful expectation, only to be let down over and over again. And then to know that Grace, who had been married to Evan less than a few months, was already with child… It was selfish and horrible of her to think this way, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted it to be her. She wanted to know what it was like to carry a baby in her belly. To know the joys of motherhood. And even the hardships! She wanted it all. But now here she was, a wounded widow, barren, completely pathetic.
The sobs came harder, robbing her of her breath. As she attempted to get herself under control, wiping her eyes and breathing as deeply as her lungs would allow, the bottle of laudanum caught her eye. She’d taken twice her dosage last night, which probably accounted for how late she’d slept today and how groggy she felt, but at least she had slept, hadn’t she? At least she hadn’t been forced to lie awake, thinking of all the ways her life had gone wrong. All the wrong decisions she’d made, the people she’d trusted and ought not to have. It took away the ache, and that was more important to her than anything just then.
Somehow that little bottle gave her new hope. Her sobs subsided, and she wiped her eyes before she reached determinedly for the bottle and spoon, uncorked the bottle, and began to pour the syrup onto the spoon. She swallowed down the first spoonful and then poised to pour once again.
“I do hope you’re not planning to take more than that, my lady.”
The unexpected presence in her room startled her into dropping the bottle. Panic settled in as she looked over the edge of the bed and saw the syrup spilling onto the rug. She looked to Dr. Alcott, expecting to see him rushing to her aid, but he only stood there, staring at her, complete and utter disappointment on his features.
“Dr. Alcott,” she breathed, feeling like a child who’d been caught stealing sweetmeats from the confectioner’s. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t suppose you did.”
She looked down at the rug again, now stained with almost the entire contents of the bottle, then back to Dr. Alcott. “The bottle,” she said lamely, as if he didn’t already know it was there.
“I will ring for a maid to pick it up.”
“But there may be time to save the rest,” she cried, unable to control the panic she felt rising in her breast. “Won’t you pick it up?”
He looked to the bottle, and then to her. “No, I will not.” He crossed the room until he was at her bedside. “You sent your sister-in-law out for flowers?”
Blast it all. Hannah looked away, feeling foolish. “I thought they might brighten up the room.”
She dared a glance at him. He was staring at her, his features softening just a bit. She wondered what he was thinking—to be honest, the way he stared at her made her feel just the slightest bit of longing. Part of her wanted to reach out and pull him against her, feel his arms around her, tell him she was sorry for lying. But of course she didn’t. That wouldn’t be terribly proper of her. And besides, he was her doctor. It was his job to be kind and caring toward her, wasn’t it? Dr. Pritchard had always been kind, but then she’d thought of him more as a father figure than, well…
“Goodness, it’s warm in here, isn’t it?” she said, pulling at the collar of her nightgown.
“It’s actually quite lovely out today. What would you think about venturing to the garden?”
He might as well have suggested they venture to the moon! “I couldn’t possibly, Dr. Alcott. Why, I barely made it to the staircase the other day, and yesterday…well, I’m not feeling terribly confident right now.”
“But how are you feeling otherwise? Your leg, I mean?”
“My leg? Oh, well, I suppose it’s a little better.”
“Then why were you going to take another spoonful of laudanum?”
This last was asked with such grave seriousness that Hannah was hardly able to respond. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at him, wondering what to tell him. The truth was always an option, she supposed. But she’d spent the last ten years appearing weak and meek to a man who gladly took advantage of her as a result. She wasn’t quite ready to let her guard down with this one, even if he was her doctor. But then, he’d caught her out, hadn’t he? Perhaps she could share only the most recent of disturbing events.
She cleared her throat and looked aw
ay. The way he stared at her made it very hard to look at him. If she looked too long, she would fa—
She stopped that thought in its tracks. Ludicrous. It was just that he was nice to her and not a relation. That was all.
“My sister-in-law,” she finally managed. “She delivered some news to me just a bit ago.”
“Bad news, I assume?”
“Actually,” Hannah gave an ironic little laugh, “quite good news! She is with child. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all him. He took her hand, which was shaking, much to her embarrassment. He patted it a few times and then looked her directly in the eye, nearly spearing her with his golden gaze. “It is high time you start living your life, my lady,” he said, and it seemed his words held something unspoken.
“Is that not what I have been doing?” Hannah replied, feigning confusion, even though she knew his words were not literal in the least.
“I don’t know your entire story, Lady Beeston, but I think I know enough. And I think we need to get you walking again.” He raised his slender eyebrows. “Dancing again?”
“I haven’t danced in years, Doctor,” she laughed. “My husband wasn’t the sort.”
“How unfortunate. I imagine you are quite graceful on the dance floor.”
“I was,” she corrected. “But I doubt I will be again. Out of practice and with a bullet hole in my leg—I hardly think those make for graceful dancing.”
“I admit, I’m not the most graceful myself…” There he was again, looking at her like that. “Perhaps one day I will persuade you to stand up with me.”
“Even if I went out in society again, it—”
She broke off, realizing what she was about to say—that he would never be invited to any type of ball or party that she would. Although, now she thought about it, there was a great deal of scandal around her now. Who knew what the gossips were saying about her? It was quite possible she’d not be welcomed into society ever again.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sobering.
“Don’t be. I’m used to being left behind, what with my sister being a viscountess and all.”
“Oh?” Hannah was certain she’d not heard about his sister before. Or had she? Maybe he’d said something about her marrying a Londoner. He’d omitted the part about the Londoner being a peer of the realm.
“Viscountess Wolverly,” he clarified. “Her husband goes by Wolf.”
“Oh, my,” Hannah breathed. She’d had no idea. “Why, I’ve attended quite a few functions at their home in the past. I didn’t realize Lady Wolverly had a doctor for a brother.”
“Few people do. I prefer a quieter life. Part of me wishes I could return to Ravenglass.”
“It’s nice there?”
Dr. Alcott nodded. “Lovely. Especially in the autumn, when the leaves turn red and orange, and the weather turns cool. Before the snow, of course. Makes it rather difficult to make house calls when the town is buried in snow.”
“I can imagine.”
“Now,” he said, standing to his full, impressive height. “How about that walk?”
Chapter 9
Graham wasn’t certain how he accomplished it, but he finally got the widow to agree to a walk to the garden. She walked the length of the corridor with some improvement over their walk the other day, and then he carried her down the stairs to the main floor. Servants stared in shock before offering smiles and curtsies for the baroness, and the attention seemed to be quite encouraging to her. Even when no one was watching, she was still smiling. It made Graham quite happy to see.
When they reached the doors to the outside, she paused, preventing him from moving forward. “What is it?” he asked.
Her eyes were fixed on the gardens. “I haven’t been outside for so long—I just want to savor the moment.”
Graham couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that. “I can’t blame you. I think I would quite go out of my mind were I to be forced inside for more than a few days, let alone nearly two months.”
There was silence as she stared a moment longer, and then, “I’m ready.”
They hobbled through the door and out onto the veranda. It was warm, but there was a gentle breeze that brought the smell of lilacs with it. Graham could feel Lady Beeston’s slight body heaving deep breaths, taking in the sights and the smells all at once.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like I’m being reborn,” she replied. “Like I’m learning to breathe for the first time.”
“You’re glad you came, then?”
Finally, she turned her chocolate brown eyes up to look at him. She was so beautiful with her hair tumbling over her shoulders, a few errant strands tossing about in the breeze. He ought not to think of her this way, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I think you might never get me back inside,” she laughed.
“Come,” he said, guiding her toward the divan near the end of the verandah. “You can sit here and enjoy the breeze.”
“You won’t stay?” she asked, blinking at him with hopefulness in her eyes.
I would never leave if I didn’t have to. “I need to instruct Cook to prepare your poultice. Would you like me to order a repast while I’m at it?”
“Something sweet,” she said with a smile. “And some tea, perhaps?”
“I won’t be long.”
Graham reluctantly left her resting alone on the divan and hurried inside to find Cook. Unfortunately, he found someone else first.
“Dr. Alcott,” the duke said, as Graham passed the open door of the man’s study.
There was nothing for it. “Afternoon, Your Grace,” he replied with a bow.
“How is my sister?” he asked, without preamble.
“Progressing,” Graham replied.
“Already? And even after her setback in the bath?”
“Sometimes a setback can catapult us to the next milestone. You may see her yourself, if you like. She is on the verandah, waiting for me to call for tea.”
The duke stared at him, his eyebrows raised, his head cocked in such a manner that indicated he wasn’t pleased at this news. “I’m confused,” he said, his tone more than just a little biting. “Are you here as a doctor or as a suitor?”
The question caused heat to rush to Graham’s face. The thought of being more than just her doctor had crossed his mind more times than it ought to have. “Getting her fresh air and a bit of exercise for the leg is part of the treatment,” he said, his voice steadier than he’d expected it to be. “The tea is for her, not for me.”
“Hm.” The duke nodded and drummed his fingers on his desk. “Carry on, then. I do think I shall go have a visit with my sister.”
“I’m certain she will enjoy that, Your Grace.”
Graham gratefully bowed out of the room, desperate to have a moment alone to calm his breath and his racing heart. He took his time on his way to the kitchen, knowing the duke was going to see his sister, and then he meandered his way back to the verandah once he’d delivered his instructions.
Somerset sat on a chair beside the divan—the chair Graham had planned to sit in himself. But it wasn’t as if he could order the duke to find another seat. That would surely raise suspicions, in addition to being completely out of line.
They spoke in hushed tones, so Graham had no idea what they were talking about, but as soon as Lady Beeston spotted him, she smiled broadly, and said, “Dr. Alcott! Did Cook have something sweet for me?”
“Indeed, she did,” he said. “It will be here soon, she promises.”
“Hannah was just telling me about your sister, the viscountess,” the duke said. “I didn’t realize you had such relations.”
“I don’t usually go about announcing it.” Graham took a seat on the other side of the small table from Somerset. “But yes, Lady Wolverly is indeed my sister.”
The duke glanced at his sister. “You know Grace is going to want to have them for dinner.”
Lady Bee
ston looked to Graham. “Perhaps when my doctor says I am able enough to attend a meal at the table?”
“It shouldn’t be long,” he replied. “Why, you look quite well today, even.”
“I still think you should take things slowly.” The duke furrowed his brow. “Another fall could set her back quite a ways.”
“Oh, Evan, please,” Lady Beeston said with a roll of her eyes. “That wasn’t Dr. Alcott’s fault.”
The duke opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off when his wife burst onto the verandah.
“There you are!” The duchess moved toward them, clad in a fetching day dress with an equally fetching bonnet upon her head, the ribbons of which she was attempting to tie with her gloved fingers. “We’re going to be late.”
The duke groaned, like a child might bemoan taking a bath.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Evan, it’s a garden party, not a tooth extraction.”
“It might as well be,” the duke groused.
Lady Beeston laughed, and it was quite infectious. All were giggling as Her Grace led her husband toward the door. All except the duke, of course.
“I guess he’s not much for garden parties,” Graham said as he moved around to the chair the duke had just vacated.
“What on earth would make you think that?” Lady Beeston teased back. “Poor man. He spent so many years hiding out in France, keeping his own council and without any obligation to anyone, I think it’s rather overwhelming for him to be dragged about Town for balls and soirees and, of course, garden parties.”
“And what of the duchess? She enjoys these things?
Lady Beeston burst into laughter. “Oh, my sister-in-law was quite born for these things, though she wasn’t born to them.”
“No?”
“Oh, no.” The baroness shook her head. “Born into a farming family, believe it or not, but she had relations in the ton, a cousin at first, but then her sister married a Wetherby—you know the Wetherby family, of course?”
Everyone knew the Wetherby family. “Of course,” he confirmed.
“And then her sister sponsored her in a season, and Grace, well…as you can imagine, she drew quite a bit of attention.”
How to Care for a Lady Page 6
