The comment on where their imagination had been brought him up short. “Pardon. Did you say highway robbers?”
Her cheeks pinked and she lifted her hands, palm out, in a helpless gesture. “Edward and Phillip both thought it a delightful game, until the constable came to confront Phillip, who was the primary highwayman, you understand.”
Nathaniel stared at her in some astonishment. Though the Julia he’d known years ago had a playful nature, she kept it well masked behind affable smiles and aristocratic behavior. To hear her admit to this level of frivolity surprised him.
“I must ask,” he said at last, narrowing his eyes at her. “What role did you play in this? Damsel in distress?”
Her lips curled upward and she raised her head high. “Hardly. I am the Robin Redbreast, sir.” She sniffed, pretending disdain, all the while her eyes twinkled merrily. “And now, Doctor Hastings, I would be happy to provide you with a safe escort to his lordship’s chamber.” She tipped her nose further up in the air and twirled to face the stair, not waiting to see if he would follow.
Nathaniel chuckled and stayed behind her, the image of her atop a horse in blue coat and red vest, the style of the London constabulary, entering his mind. He thought the uniform might suit her, given its bold colors, and nearly said so. But he bit his tongue and reminded himself they were not friends. They had no relationship at all.
“Here you are, Doctor,” she said when they arrived at the room. “Safely delivered.”
“Thanks to a Robin Redbreast?” He raised his eyebrows at her, not hinting at the humor from before. “Thank you, Miss Devon.” He showed himself in, closing the door to the hall and Julia behind him.
Phillip yet sat inside the room, several feet away from the bed in a chair, as Nathaniel had suggested. The boys called it their “visiting chair.” It was their designated spot to sit and converse with their father, without jostling him in the bed or risking taking the ailment into their own lungs.
“Ah, Hastings,” the baron greeted him, his voice sounding weak to the doctor’s ears. “I understand you were nearly knocked to the floor by a scoundrel. My apologies that you would find such under my roof.”
“Not at all, my lord. I was rescued in a timely manner,” Nathaniel said, going to wash his hands. “But perhaps you ought to turn the criminal loose again. I doubt he’ll repeat the crime.”
Phillip stood and bowed. “Thank you, Doctor Hastings.” He hurried to the basin to wash his hands, obviously the act now a habit for him, and then darted out of the room.
“I must say,” Lord Heatherton said, pushing himself up against the cushions at his back. “Cousin Julia has been a breath of fresh air in this house. The boys are happy and my Virginia finally has someone with whom to converse.”
Nathaniel nodded a touch absently, coming closer to his patient’s bed. His attention was focused more on the baron’s breathing than on his words. Lord Heatherton’s chest rose and fell abnormally fast, but the sound his lordship made was weak and wheezing.
“How long have you been breathing like this?” Nathaniel asked, putting his ear to the baron’s chest. While most physicians maintained a distance from their patients, believing to involve themselves physically would be socially lowering, Nathaniel actually cared about understanding symptoms. Each breath sounded as if it was a struggle to take it in and let it out.
Nathaniel took measure of Lord Heatherton’s pulse, finding it rapid against his finger. He touched the man’s forehead next and shook his head.
“Only an hour or so,” the baron answered between pants for breath.
“And your lady wife? Where is she?”
"She had business in the stillroom, I believe.”
Nathaniel reached up and pulled the cord to summon a servant. He needed to speak to Lady Heatherton at once and inform her that there was less time than he suspected. He began making lists in his mind of all that must be done, letters that would need to be written.
“It is that bad, is it?” Lord Heatherton asked before covering his mouth with a handkerchief to cough.
Nathaniel’s heart sank further when he saw the blood on the handkerchief. “I am afraid so, my lord.”
Lord Heatherton sank back into the pillows and closed his eyes. “Then it is good that all my affairs are in order.”
The helpless feeling returned to Nathaniel’s breast. The struggle against illness had been fought as long as man had existed, and Hippocrates himself recorded what to do in the case of a patient with this wasting disease.
The old Greek doctor had told his students to avoid treating anyone this far gone with consumption, lest it ruin their reputation when they could not cure it. But Nathaniel had no intention of walking away from the baron or his family now. He would go through the worst of it with them and aid them in any way he could.
Chapter Six
Julia drifted through the house alone, the boys long since in bed, and Virginia retired to rest as well. The day had been an emotional one. No amount of sweets purchased from the apothecary could cheer anyone. Nathaniel had informed her cousin that the baron was in the final stages of his illness. It was likely he had less time than they’d considered before, and Nathaniel wanted them to be prepared. He told them he would leave his schedule with the staff so they would know where to come for him, day or night, should the need arise.
It was an incredibly thoughtful and compassionate thing to do, Julia knew, when most doctors would walk away at that point and never come back.
His compassionate nature, his commitment to honor, hadn’t changed over the years.
She sat down in the baron’s study, on a small couch near his bookshelves, and closed her eyes. With her emotions already ragged, she could not resist the pull of remembrances from her time in London, when she first met Nathaniel.
She’d sat in the carriage, young and naive, excited to enter society as a marriageable woman. Her aunt had stopped along the walk to speak to an acquaintance. Julia’s eyes darted from one end of the street to the other, and she knew she was gawking like a country bumpkin instead of the sophisticated lady she hoped to be.
Then she saw him, across the street, watching her. Dressed in a gray suit and black beaver, taller than most gentlemen she knew, he cut a handsome figure. She blushed when he tipped his hat to her and nearly panicked when he started walking across the clogged London street.
The brazen man came right up to her carriage window. He twisted his hand and made a rose appear in his palm where none had been before.
“Did you drop this, miss?” he asked, his eyes full of mischief.
A faint gasp escaped her, aware that to be addressed by a man she had not been introduced was improper. “Sir, you know I did not.”
“But you must keep it,” he said, holding it closer. “You look as though you might give it a good home.”
He spoke as if the flower were a kitten to be cared for. His smile struck her as charming, his angular features handsome. Though his words were bold, his expression remained amiable and his eyes admiring.
Julia took the rose from him, her gloved finger-tips touching his. Her heart fluttered at the brief contact, and she put the rose to her nose to inhale its sweet fragrance.
He tipped his hat again and walked away, disappearing into the crowd on the walk.
Aunt Jacqueline returned to the carriage none the wiser, though she remarked on Julia’s heightened color with some approval. “You see, girl,” she said, nodding her gray head pompously. “London air is good for you.”
Julia doubted London air was good for anybody, but she let the comment pass, her mind already entertaining thoughts of the handsome man in gray.
She’d been young, full of dreams and hopes for her future, and she would have laughed had anyone told her how she would spend the coming years.
Julia shook herself out of those thoughts, not wishing to deal with any more of the disappointments of her past. She pushed herself out of the chair, realizing the fire had died down and the r
oom was nearly as dark as the night outside the window.
The door to the study opened and a masculine voice, one she did not recognize, spoke into the hallway. “Never mind about waking the family. I’ll take a nip from his lordship’s stores and then find my room. Good night.”
Julia’s heart raced and she took quick steps towards the doorway, realizing if she did not a man would soon enter and find her alone. “Wait, please,” she said, her skirts swishing against her legs as she moved. “It is dark in here. I need the light of the hall.”
There was a moment’s silence and then the door swung all the way open, revealing a man silhouetted by the lamps glowing in the entryway. Behind the man she could see the butler, allowing her to relax. She and this stranger were not going to be left alone.
“Pardon me, Miss Devon,” Thurston said, ever the pillar of all that was proper. “Please, allow me to present his lordship’s brother, Mr. Gerard Macon.”
“Mr. Macon,” she said politely, a pace from the doorway. “It is a pleasure.” She dropped into a curtsy and raised her head to see the man before her offer a shallow bow. He resembled Lord Heatherton a great deal, though with darker hair and pleasant enough features if he wasn’t scowling. He was perhaps taller than his elder brother, too.
The expression on his face, his forehead wrinkled and his lips twisted down in a frown, was more unpleasant than any she had seen Charles wear.
“Miss Devon, good evening. Excuse me, I have business in the study to attend to.” He stepped back enough to allow her through and Julia thought it best to take her leave of him. She didn’t want to stand and converse with someone who appeared as irritable as Mr. Macon.
But, she reminded herself sternly, he was family to the baron, and his elder brother’s imminent death could have something to do with his attitude. He must have only just arrived in Bath, too, and a long journey would hardly put anyone in an agreeable state of mind. Julia took herself in hand and curtsied again.
“Excuse me, Mr. Macon. Perhaps we may get to know each other tomorrow. Good evening.” Julia walked by him, trying not to look too closely at him again. She had no wish to detain the man from his drink.
After obtaining the sanctuary of her room, she rang for Emily. It did not take long for the young woman to come and help Julia remove her clothing.
“Good night, Miss Devon,” Emily said before closing the door behind her. “I hope you have pleasant dreams.”
Julia tucked the covers beneath her chin and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to take her away from the cares and heartaches of the day.
Her mind had other tricks to play, however, and Julia found herself remembering the ball where she had been formally introduced to Nathaniel Hastings. The event was a successful crush, every room and hall filled with people conversing, wearing their best clothes and society simpers, and she had sat on a chair watching in fascination.
The variety of colors and styles in women’s gowns amazed her; the gentlemen standing in small groups, in varying shades of blues, grays, and browns, were as interesting to study, if for entirely different reasons. They were all like exotic birds, showing off their fine feathers, in search of a mate.
Aunt Jacqueline had sat near her, speaking to one of her friends, sharing her views on the world at large. The hostess of the ball, Lady Rachel Carew, approached and Julia stood quickly when she realized the woman was making directly for her, with a familiar gentleman in tow.
Though he now wore blue instead of gray, Julia recognized him at once as the man who had appeared at her carriage window. The rose he’d gifted her now sat on her bedside table, a delightful token of their interlude.
“Miss Devon, might I present Mr. Nathaniel Hastings, lately of Gloucestershire. Mr. Hastings, Miss Devon is from Kettering, Northhamptonshire, and niece to Lady Darvel.” Lady Carew made the introductions with a disinterested smile, wafting the air with her fan. “Mr. Hastings expressed a wish to meet you, Miss Devon.”
“You do me honor, Mr. Hastings,” Julia had said, surprised she managed more than a whisper. She did not ever expect to see him again, though she secretly hoped she might.
“It is a true pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Devon,” he said, bowing to her. “Might I engage your hand for the next dance?”
Julia nearly said yes before she remembered to glance at her aunt, who appraised the man briefly before offering a slight nod.
“Yes, thank you.”
He took her hand to lead her to the floor. She could feel the heat of his grasp through the silk of her glove. His touch was gentle, his fingers strong, and in that moment Julia knew Nathaniel Hastings was different. His smile charmed her, the way his eyes danced intrigued her, and his attention made her feel important.
But that first dance, as wonderful as it had been, laid the foundations for the greatest disappointment of her life.
Julia sighed and rolled over in her bed, squeezing her eyes shut tighter, banishing the memories back into the furthest corners of her mind. She needed her rest and thinking on Nathaniel Hastings would not be conducive to that sleep.
∞ ∞ ∞
Julia’s memories of Nathaniel Hastings were not so easily banished as she might have hoped. Rest eluded her most of the night, leaving Julia’s whole form sagging before her dressing table as Emily arranged curls around Julia’s ears. Though she’d rather leave off the intricate style, she knew she ought to retain some measure of decorum now that another guest resided in the home, even if she planned to spend most of her day assisting Virginia or shepherding the boys.
“Emily, where is my cousin this morning?” she asked the maid, though she stared into her own dark eyes in the mirror. The lines beneath them told all too clearly of her lack of sleep.
“Her ladyship is sleeping, miss. She left instructions last night not to disturb her unless you, Lord Heatherton, or the children had need of her. I imagine she’ll ring for her breakfast and that will be the first we know of her.”
“I hope so. She needs her rest.” Julia pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side. “I think you’ve done all you can for me today. I’m afraid I will have to go down the way I am.”
The maid actually giggled. “You look very pretty, miss. I’m certain Mr. Macon will think so.”
Julia’s eyebrows shot up. “Mr. Macon? I don’t care a fig for Mr. Macon, beyond the need to practice basic manners in his presence.” Emily giggled and Julia bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from grinning. “Is he awake yet? I thought he’d be sleeping for a time, due to his late arrival.” Among other things, she silently added to herself.
“He rang for his valet about the time I came up to help you, miss.” Emily gathered up the curling tongs and extra hairpins. “But I imagine we finished up first.”
Julia nodded her thanks for the information and gathered up her favorite lavender shawl. She made her way down the steps and to the dining hall, where she had taken breakfast with Virginia the last several days. The children ate in the nursery, the baron in his chamber, and though Virginia had been taking her morning meal in bed before Julia came, she would not allow her cousin to eat alone. Today, Julia anticipated sharing the table with a near-stranger.
She came down and took up a plate, filling it from the sideboard. It looked as though the cook was putting on an extra show, with a new guest to impress and feed. Julia didn’t mind, as she enjoyed sampling everything that came up from the kitchen. Her cousin’s cook, Mrs. Rainey, was especially adept at sauces.
Julia had seated herself and taken her first bite when Gerard Macon entered the room. He paused at the doorway and made his bow.
“Please, don’t get up,” he said with a raised hand. “I’m starving and I imagine you are as well.” He went directly to the food. He filled his plate rapidly with rashers of bacon, pastries, and berries in a cream sauce.
“Miss Devon, I must apologize for my rudeness last night,” he said, taking her by surprise, without turning around. “I was fatigued by my travels and did
not do our introduction the honor it likely deserved.” He turned from the food, plate in hand, and looked over the table carefully before choosing the seat across from her, nearest the head.
“I understand, of course,” she answered graciously. Julia knew Virginia held no true fondness for her brother-in-law and she wondered why. By the light of day, he appeared happier, and his manner of address, though not perfect, was pleasant enough. “Have you seen your brother yet?” she asked.
“No. I understand he needs his rest. His valet will let him know I’m here. I’m sure he will send for me when he is ready.” Mr. Macon tucked into his breakfast without another word on the matter and Julia followed suit. The quiet gave her more time to think on the day ahead of her.
After breakfast, she would make certain Mr. Macon had something to do to while away his time, then she would check on the boys and Nurse Smyth. She had every intention of taking them to the park, possibly after luncheon, when the sun had a chance to warm the air a little. She had also agreed to help Virginia with a few household matters, allowing the baroness more time to sit with her husband.
Julia marveled at the love and devotion her cousin exhibited for the baron. Virginia adored him, and though losing him obviously hurt her greatly, she sat by him day after day, attending to all his needs, with a tenderness that smote Julia’s heart. Though Virginia never hid her tears, Julia also caught her smiling often, reliving better times through her memories.
The baron had arranged matters well for her cousin and his heirs. Virginia told Julia everything about his will. Virginia would have a monthly allowance, modest but sufficient for her means, and she would be the trustee of the estate until her son came of age. The baron’s steward and man of business in London were made aware of the situation and charged with teaching both boys everything they knew about the estate in the country and the investments in town.
They would all be well provided for until Phillip came of age. An amount for Edward’s education in the living of his choice had also been provided.
The Gentleman Physician: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 2) Page 6
