by Diana Quincy
“I’m not dying.” She jumped up. “But I am eager to read it.” She unfolded the paper and read Griff’s note. “He wants me to meet him at the hospital in an hour.”
“For what?” Rafi asked, but the knowing expression on his face suggested he knew exactly what was going on.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“What did I say?”
“Nothing. But that smug expression on your face says it all.”
“Go on, then. Go see your viscount.”
She left him and, on her way out to meet Griff, stopped by the front salon.
“How is your brother?” Citi asked. The early-afternoon light filtered into the room.
“He just finished eating your freekeh soup, so he’ll be dancing the dabke in no time.” Hanna took the seat nearest to her grandmother. Her thoughts were all over the place. The fire had shaken up her perspective on the world. She found herself considering options she would never have entertained before the blaze. Very impractical options.
“The doctor said Rafi will recover fully,” she told her grandmother. “He just needs to rest.”
“Yes.” Citi sucked on her hookah, relief etched in her face. “Thanks be to God.” She peered at Hanna. “You don’t look good.” Citi was always honest.
“I only slept for a few hours. I was up all night with Rafi and the doctor.”
“The hayee is dead?”
“The snake? Oh, you mean Dr. Pratt. Yes, I suppose.”
“Your ajnabi saved Rafi.”
Hanna nodded, her throat swelling. She’d never forget the sight of Griff pulling her brother from the building. She’d also never forget the abject fear she felt when she thought she might never see Griff again.
“About the viscount,” she began. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Citi.”
“Then don’t,” Citi said in Arabic. Having deep and meaningful talks were not Citi’s way. They embarrassed her. As did any show of emotion.
“I’ve begun to reconsider things in my life, the choices I’ve made. Or will make.”
Citi did not ask Hanna what she meant, but Hanna saw understanding flicker in the old woman’s face. She stared at her granddaughter for what seemed to be a long time.
Finally, the old woman shrugged. “Indari, Citi. I don’t know. I am an old woman. In my time, we girls did what our family asked of us.”
“Lord Griffin is the reason Rafi didn’t die in that fire.”
“When someone saves your loved one’s life, he becomes like family. We owe him.” Citi took a long inhale on her hookah. “And you are very old. Much too old to marry a nice Arab boy. Or anyone else. Probably no one else will have you.”
Hanna’s lips quirked. “I’m sure you have the right of it.”
“When I am dead, and your mother is gone, and your brothers are married with families of their own, it is better for you to have someone.”
She rose and went to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Hanna found Griff’s valet waiting for her when she arrived at Margate.
“Good afternoon, miss. If you’ll come this way.” Felix led her to a section of the hospital on the ground floor that she’d never visited before.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they rounded a corner down a short corridor.
“His lordship is waiting for you.” He stopped before a closed door and pushed it open. “Enjoy, miss,” he added before walking away, leaving her standing alone.
She ventured inside to find a vast space, mostly empty except for a few scattered chairs. Like the wards she’d visited at Margate, this room possessed large windows and a hearth that was being lit by someone with a familiar face.
“Mr. Bartlow.” She recognized the hospital worker who’d told them about the body snatchers and St. Thomas’s. “What are you doing here?”
“G’day, miss.” The older man straightened up. He wore clean clothing and had clearly bathed since she last saw him. “I’m working fer ’is lordship. That toff is like ’is Da. Looks after people who are beneath him.”
“What sort of work will you be doing for him?”
He grinned, baring a smile that included several missing teeth. “I cannot say, miss. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Cannot say?” She watched him exit the room. “Why not?”
He smirked a little as he quietly closed the door behind him.
“Griff?” she called out, the sound echoing off the walls.
“In here.” She followed his voice until she found him standing before a closed door. Her nerve endings tingled. He was freshly bathed, clad in a navy tailcoat of superfine wool with brass buttons and pale formfitting pantaloons.
“What was Mr. Bartlow doing here? He says he works for you. For that matter, why are we here?”
He grinned and pushed the door open. “See for yourself.”
She went in. It was an office, freshly painted in the palest green, with a commanding mahogany desk and generous stone-colored window frame. A comfortable chair was by the window and a vase brimming with sunny fresh flowers adorned the side table. Hanna’s gaze went to a drawing of a skeletal figure on the wall behind the desk.
Her eyes rounded. “It’s the Bidloo.” The one she’d so admired in the private collection Griff had taken her to see.
She spun around to face him. “What’s it doing here?”
Behind him, in the corner she spotted a familiar, life-size sculpture that took her breath away. It was the piece she’d appreciated most from the collection. The left half of the woman’s body was a full-color wax skeleton, including muscles and ligaments. The other half was a living woman dressed in fine clothing.
“You remember her?” he asked. “You used her to show me the muscles and joints in my shoulder.”
“Of course I remember her. She’s magnificent.”
He grimaced. “Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. In any case, I hope to have many more hands-on anatomy lessons in my future. Both pieces are yours.”
Her eyes rounded. “They’re for me?”
“Who else? I certainly don’t want them. They’d give me nightmares if I had to stare at them all of the time.”
“I cannot accept such expensive gifts from you.”
“They are part of my wedding gift to you.”
“Wedding gift?”
“If you agree to be my wife, of course. I’ve already spoken to your brother.”
“Wait. What?” She struggled to keep up with the conversation. “You asked Rafi for permission to wed me?”
“Apparently my dragging him out of a burning building softened his stance on the subject. He said any man who would run into an inferno to please a woman should probably be allowed to wed her.”
“Thank you for saving him.”
“And then I had to face your grandmother.”
She winced. “You talked to Citi?”
He nodded. “I believe she said something about you being far too old for any other man to want. Arab or otherwise.” His steel-blue eyes sparkled. “She also intimated that I am a fool to marry a twenty-six-year-old woman when there are plenty of eighteen-year-olds to be had.”
“That sounds like Citi.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If this is a proposal, it’s not exactly the most romantic one I’ve ever heard.”
“You are a practical woman. I thought you’d appreciate a practical proposal.”
“Very well. Let’s address the realities of our situation. I am a bonesetter. Even if my family will grudgingly accept you, your world will never accept me.”
“My world didn’t even accept me until about a week ago. I am well accustomed to being an outcast. I don’t care about fashionable society. I never have.”
“But I don’t even know what a viscountess does. All I know is how to be a bonesetter.”
“And the best one in all of London, at that.”
“So where does that leave us?”
He took her hand and led her to the office door.
“Right here.”
She stared at the engraved nameplate affixed to the wood that she hadn’t noticed at first. “What is going on? Why is my name on this door?”
Griff seemed terribly pleased with himself. “Because this is your office.” He strode out to the empty larger space and spread his arms wide. “All of this is yours.”
“What are you talking about? Has the smoke from the fire affected your mind?”
“The fire cleared my mind. And because of that, you are now standing in the middle of what will soon be Margate Hospital’s new dispensary for the treatment of outpatients.”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
“Which will be run by you and”—he rolled his eyes—“Bridges, if you so desire. I’ve engaged Bartlow to help keep the place clean, run errands, that sort of thing. He’s familiar with the inner workings of the hospital and could be an asset to you. However, if you’d rather choose your own staff, I’ll find something for Bartlow to do at Haven House.”
“No, it’s fine for him to work here. But the board of governors will never allow me to open a dispensary here.” It was an impossible dream.
“That’s where you are wrong. I’ve already spoken with Brandon. With the two of us in agreement on this project, the rest of the board will go along. Naturally, we shall engage a new lead physician who agrees with our vision for Margate.”
She surveyed the chamber, already imagining where the examining tables would go. “You want me to marry you and run a dispensary out of this space?”
He stepped closer, his loving gaze intent on her face. “I don’t care whether you choose to call yourself Lady Griffin or Lady Bonesetter. As long as I can call you mine, I shall be the happiest man in the world.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Griff.”
“Will you make me the happiest man alive? When I thought I’d lost you, I was in anguish. But more than that, I was angry and furious at myself for wasting time. For even considering letting you go.”
“I felt the same.”
“You healed me. Not just my shoulder. But my heart. You were instrumental in returning me to my home, my sisters, my obligations. I was stumbling around in the dark up until that moment I first saw you in the coffeehouse.”
“Do you truly think we can do this?”
“If I get out of line, you can always dislocate something on me.”
“Never.” She went to him. “I couldn’t hurt you.”
His strong arms closed around her. Their mouths met in a hungry yet tender kiss. “Say yes,” he whispered in her ear. “Please. Don’t ever leave me.”
His humid breath tickled her ear and warmed her blood. “Yes. Oh, yes. I will stay with you. Forever.”
“Thank you.” His voice was full of relief. She felt his muscles relax. She tightened her arms around him, savoring his strength and warmth. Their embrace connected them from their chests, her breasts flat against his hard chest, all the way to their hips, where she could feel his erection pressing into her.
“Now, I’d like to go straight to that anatomy lesson.” He kissed her as he walked her backward into the office and kicked the door shut behind them. “A very long, very slow and very leisurely anatomy lesson where we explore all of the important parts.”
“Right here?” she said against his lips.
“Why not? There’s the desk.” He swung her up in his arms. “And we already know how to make excellent use of desks.”
“We’re in the middle of a hospital full of people,” she said breathlessly as he laid her on the hard, cool surface. His warm hand slid under her skirts, feathering up her thigh. She shivered, goose bumps rising all over her skin. “What if someone walks in on us?”
He kissed her long and slow. “Just tell them the viscount made you do it.”
Epilogue
“Where is Griff?” Hanna scanned the crowded public rooms at Ashby Manor. “I’ve been married less than an hour, and I’ve already lost my husband.”
Mama stood by her side. “I still think you should have wed Nabeel. He’s a good boy.”
“Hanna.” Her cousin Adel appeared beside her. “Or should I call you Lady Griffin now?” he asked with exaggerated loftiness.
“Feel at liberty to call me Princess,” she teased back. It wasn’t easy to hear above the spirited Arabic music flowing from the ballroom. “Who started playing Arabic music?”
“Khalo Adnan and Umo Sameer brought their oud and drums.” Adel lifted his hands to face level and did an Arabic dance move, his pointer fingers swiping from side to side. “When the orchestra took a break, our uncles decided to fill in and provide music that really makes you move.”
“I can just imagine what Griff’s sisters will think.” She moved through the crowd, accepting enthusiastic congratulations and kisses on both cheeks from her relatives.
“Lady Griffin.” Someone came up from behind her.
It took Hanna a moment to realize that was her title now. After a pause, she pivoted. “Yes?”
Griff’s sister Lady Dorcas embraced Hanna warmly. “I haven’t had the chance to welcome you to the family.”
“Thank you.” She paused. “I realize I am not exactly the viscountess you envisioned for your brother.”
“I never imagined anyone could make Griff as happy as you clearly do. And after everything he’s been through, his contentment is all that matters.” Her eyes twinkled. “Besides, I have four very active boys. Having a bonesetter in the family could prove useful.”
“I hope your sisters will feel the same.” Although Griff’s older sisters had been scrupulously polite to Hanna, they were also cool and removed.
Lady Dorcas patted her shoulder. “Maria and Wini will come around once they see how happy you make Griff.”
They parted, and Hanna made her way to the ballroom, where she discovered her cousins had started an energetic dabke dance line, the men leading at the head, women in the middle and the children still learning the steps bringing up the rear. Standing shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped with the people on either side of them, the dancers crossed the left foot over the right twice as the line moved, followed by a small hop.
Hanna’s brother Elias, a skilled dabke dancer, headed up the line, controlling the tempo and sometimes breaking from the line to showcase more advanced moves. To her surprise, William, Griff’s nephew, was at the end of the line with Hanna’s youngest cousins attempting to learn the dance.
Hanna’s eyes widened when she noticed another unlikely dancer in the line. Griff stood between two of her cousins near the front of the line. His eyes were fixed on other people’s feet, as he awkwardly tried to copy the moves. “Griff is dancing?”
Mama, who had caught up with Hanna, tried not to look impressed. “If you had married Nabeel, you would have a husband who already knows how to dabke.”
Hanna kissed Mama’s cheek and went to join the line, cutting in so that she had Griff on one side and her cousin Amal on the other.
Griff squeezed her hand. “There you are.”
“I couldn’t exactly leave you on your own with my cousins. We can be a bit overwhelming to people who are unaccustomed to us.”
She helped him perfect his footwork, calling out “Cross. Cross. Hop. Cross. Cross. Hop,” until he got the rhythm. Soon they were both moving and laughing, perspiring and tired.
When the dance ended, he stole her away. “Let’s get some air.” He led her to the terrace. Hanna watched Rafi enter through another set of terrace doors farther down the ballroom. As they approached the terrace, Lady Winters slipped in from the outside.
“The bride and groom.” Her eyes sparkled. “May I offer my congratulations once again?”
“You may,” Griff said as they sidled past her. “We need some air. What were you doing outside, Selina?”
“Getting some air,” Lady Winters said as she wandered off, “just like you.”
“Come on”—Griff tugged Hanna along—“before someone stops us. We haven’t been alon
e for a month.”
Hanna craved his touch. “My family is very strict when it comes to allowing a betrothed couple to be alone together. Who knows what could happen?”
“We both know exactly what would have happened if you and I had managed to steal a moment alone together.” He led her onto the terrace. It was a beautiful, clear night. The air was brisk.
“It’s chilly out here.”
He led her to a quiet, out-of-the-way corner and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll warm you up.”
She went willingly. “What if someone sees us?”
“They’ll see a man desperate to kiss his wife.” His mouth met hers, hungry and demanding. She molded her body to his and kissed him back with the same fervor.
“This party cannot be over soon enough,” she said, pressing her lips against his jaw and nipping his ear.
“I agree.” He caressed her breast, his lips at her décolletage. “How soon can we throw the guests out?”
She giggled. “We cannot.”
The sound of a man clearing his throat was followed by the appearance of the butler, who kept his gaze focused on some distant point well away from Griff and Hanna.
“What is it, Wright?” Griff asked tersely.
“It is time to serve supper, my lord and my lady.”
Griff groaned as his hand caressed the side of Hanna’s neck, sending pleasure streaming through her. “Will this day never end?”
“The sooner we have supper, the sooner it will all be over,” Hanna reminded him.
“Excellent point. We’ll be in momentarily.”
Wright bowed. “Very good, my lord.”
“And Wright?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“How many courses does Cook have planned?”
“Six, my lord.”
“Serve the courses quickly. There’s an extra few shillings for each member of the staff if supper is completed in under two hours.”
One corner of the butler’s mouth crooked upward. “I will advise them of your orders, my lord.”
After the butler vanished into the shadows, Griff took Hanna back into his arms. She resisted. “We’ve got to get back to the guests. Or my mother will say I’m an eager bride.”