He spoke right in her ear. “I need you to know that, my love. I am all yours.”
Her heart raced. She turned and buried her face in his throat. Still on his lap, she gripped his jacket and pushed herself as close to him as possible.
He kept stroking her. His hands ran down her arms and back. His tone remained soft as he continued in the same mantra as before.
You’re all I want.
You’re all I need.
You’re everything to me.
Her anger and worry vanished and in its place was a feeling so bittersweet that it burned her lungs and caused tears to pour from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her. She didn’t care that they were being watched. She knew Boran hadn’t left.
Boran spoke to confirm her thoughts. “Well, this was very unexpected. I never thought I’d see Sir William Husher brought to his knees.”
“Thank you, Boran. You can leave.”
“You know…” the other started. “Since the woman only ever meets with other women and… Lady Cammie? Is that what you called her? Well anyway, since she already knows Lady Ruth…”
“Camilla stays out of this.”
“But you said Van Dero wanted her alive. So, unless you plan to use force, and I would caution against it, you’ll need a woman to talk to her.”
“No.” Will cut the man off. “She stays out of this.”
“What is going on?” Camilla leaned away and wiped her eyes. “Do you need help? I’ll help.” She could feel a pinch of guilt in her heart for doubting Will. She wanted to make it right between them. She wanted to show she believed in him.
But did she?
She decided she would take this one day at a time.
“We don’t need your help,” Will said.
She looked at the unbreakable man whose lap she sat in and then she looked at the stranger. “What’s this have to do with Ruth? Who’s Azalea?”
“A love doctor,” the filthy man said. When he grinned, however, his teeth were pearly white. “An herbalist.”
An herbalist? A love doctor? A female? A female doctor? He had called her a love doctor. Camilla had no idea what that meant, but if this was the woman her father sought out…
“You said she’s meeting with Ruth tonight?” she asked.
“Camilla,” William warned. “Don’t get involved.”
She turned to him. “My friend is involved. Therefore, I’m involved as well.” She decided not to mention that this woman just might be the same woman her father was looking for. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if the woman did turn out to be the female doctor. Would she tell her father that they’d met and have the woman visit Julia?
The only other option was to let her father’s mistress die, but that was only if the woman were actually sick.
A love doctor?
Could it be that Julia had finally fallen out of love with her father and her father was looking for a way to bring them back together? Was that how a love doctor worked? If that were the case, Camilla would never help her father.
She didn’t know, but she knew she needed to find out before she sought out Ruth tonight. She didn’t need Will’s help or his permission.
She said nothing more.
Will narrowed his eyes. “You’re just going to do it without me if I don’t help you, aren’t you?”
“Let me help. Mr. Boran already said the woman only speaks to other women.” No wonder her father had yet to find her. No wonder he’d come to Camilla.
He’d have gone to Luke if he could. She knew that within her heart. “I’ll meet with her.”
“This woman is dangerous,” Will said. “She’s deadly. She’s killed many.”
Camilla went rigid in his hold. This couldn’t be the same woman her father had wanted her to find. He’d spoken of a healer, not a killer. “Why would Ruth wish to meet with a murderer?”
“I don’t know,” Will said.
Boran said, “Azalea is known for other things besides death. I’ve been told she’s a healer. A doctor.”
Will rolled his eyes. It seemed he didn’t believe those stories.
But Camilla was worried. Was this Azalea who her father had wanted her to find? Had he truly sent her out to find a murderer?
Her eyes widened as she remembered Luke warning her against her hunt for the female doctor. Her brother had also told Camilla the woman was dangerous.
Camilla felt sadness press in on her.
“Camilla?”
She stiffened when she felt her eyes burn. Anger broke through her sadness. “I need to go.”
“Where?”
“To my father’s house.” She needed to see him. She needed to speak to him one last time before she was completely done with the man. She didn’t care what happened to her after that. She’d run away if she had to. She’d forsake everyone and everything she knew if only to never have to live under his will again.
She hated him. She completely and absolutely hated her father. She would tell him as much.
And then she’d be done with him.
Her thoughts were reckless, but the anger and pain clouded her from all else.
Will turned her chin to face him.
In the back of her mind, she became aware that he’d been calling to her.
Boran was also gone.
“What’s going on?”
She pulled from his hold and went to her own seat. “I need to see my father. Please, take me to his house.”
She told him the address. Though she’d never been inside Julia’s home herself, she knew where he lived.
Her mother—whenever they’d left the house and happened to have ridden by the property—sneered at it before turning away. It was in Mayfair. Her father had put his beloved in a nice little terrace home. The neighbors had changed in the last few years. Ladies who refused to have Julia so close to their family had pressured their husbands to move away.
Their houses had been bought or rented out by middle-class men who were making their way in the world.
She didn’t realize they were at Julia’s home until they were. She hadn’t even felt the carriage move. So centered were her thoughts that she was surprised when Will grabbed her face.
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
“No.” She didn’t want him to hear what she said to her father. She was in control at the moment. There was no trembling in her limbs or her voice. She was strong. She needed to stay strong.
But then her father’s face filled her mind and she thought of the smiling gray eyes she’d inherited. Her strength began to deplete.
She grabbed Will’s arms and squeezed, praying for the earlier assurances.
“I’ll come with you,” Will said. “I’ll stay until you send me away.”
She blinked and there he was. William.
“I’ll stay as long as you need me.” His green-eyed concern washed over her. The fire of her anger lowered to embers and then that went away as well.
But without the anger, the pain was back.
And it hurt, stealing her every breath and forcing her to work for it.
She gasped and then she gasped again when Will’s mouth closed over hers, but that was all.
The kiss moved nowhere. There was no fire behind it. It was simply the pressing of lips. A physical connection that anchored her back into the present.
He pulled away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. You looked so lost.” He frowned. “I’m sorry.”
She was holding his shoulders. She must have grabbed him during the kiss. “Why are you sorry?”
His puzzled expression cleared. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll go in with you and stay as long as you need me. I won’t leave, even if he tells me to.”
She wouldn’t let Will get arrested. “This won’t take long.”
He helped her out of the carriage and to the front door.
There was a loud noise and then a shout from somewhere in the house.
William pushed Camilla
behind him and opened the front door.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “You’re supposed to knock.”
But his face said he was no longer listening to her. Instead, his concentration was on whatever was going on inside.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 5
* * *
There were no servants in the front room.
Camilla’s father’s voice broke through the chaos. “Morgana! What were you thinking? Your mother is ill. How many times must I tell you to be gentle around her?”
“I’m sorry.” Morgana’s voice was stripped of its usual strength. Instead, it was weak and nearly a whisper. “Father, I’m sorry—
“Get out! Someone get her out of here.”
There was the hushed tone of a servant, barely heard over the moans of someone in pain.
Julia.
Morgana screamed incoherently. Small quick footsteps were heard.
Lord Hornstein said, “No, let her go. Someone clear this up. You, go get another tray and someone get some hot water.” He was speaking to the servants. Then his voice lowered and a door was closed, which shut all the noise out.
Eventually, Morgana appeared at the top of the stairs. Her little red face was set in anger. She turned at the sight of Camilla and Will. She opened her mouth and gasped. But her eyes locked with Camilla’s and then she started forward at a run. The girl didn’t stop until she crashed into Camilla.
Camilla grabbed her. It was instinct and done without thought. But internally, she recoiled from her father’s by-blow. The girl had taken everything from her, including her place in her father’s eyes.
The man was willing to have Camilla killed in order to save Morgana’s mother.
She wanted to push the child away, but Morgana’s fingers curled into her skirts and every soft hiccup or sob knocked against Camilla’s heart until she had no choice but to accept the feeling of pity that slithered its way into her chest.
She crouched down to be level with the child and Morgana wrapped her arms around Camilla’s throat. The young girl’s strength was nearly as surprising as the hug itself. Why would Morgana seek comfort from her when she’d never sought it from Camilla before?
In fact, Camilla hadn’t been sure that Morgana liked her at all.
Maybe this was all because the girl had no one else.
Camilla looked over at Will and saw he was watching her with a strange expression of confusion. He was just as lost as her.
Camilla patted Morgana’s back and tried to lean away.
But Morgana wouldn’t let her. She buried her wet face in Camilla’s neck and Camilla had no choice but to hold her.
Even as she lifted Morgana into her arms, she couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that Morgana always got what she wanted.
What was it about the girl that made everyone adore her?
She finally managed to get Morgana off her by settling her on the couch. Yet the moment Camilla sat down, Morgana pressed her body against hers. She wrapped her arm around Camilla and sighed. “Who’s that?” The whisper was so quiet that it took Camilla a moment to understand it.
She angled herself so she could see Morgana’s face. The girl’s red eyes were on Will. “That’s my friend, Lord Sencio.”
Will remained by the threshold, but he offered a slight bow of his head. He said nothing either in word or expression as he studied Morgana.
Morgana turned her head to look up at Camilla. “Father says you’re going to marry him.” She sniffled. “Can I be in the wedding? I want to carry the flower hoop.”
Camilla's eyes widened. She and Morgana had barely spoken before this moment. Camilla had been pleasant enough, but she’d never encouraged an actual relationship.
She was still surprised the girl clung to her, much less thought she had the right to ask to be in the wedding.
Morgana watched her and then turned to Will. “I won’t drop the flowers. I promise.” Her little eyes held panic, beseeching to have her way.
Will opened his mouth.
Camilla cut him off. “We’ll see.” She was not about to let Will agree to give this child a spot in her wedding.
What was she thinking? She hadn’t even accepted her own place in his life, much less as the bride in any wedding.
She had yet another reason to be displeased with her father. Why would he tell Morgana such a thing?
But then again, who would Morgana tell? Who were her friends? Not the children who lived in the houses around them. While her father’s presence was still accepted in a few circles, Morgana would never be.
She’d never have a Season. She’d never be courted by a lord, not for marriage at least.
Had she been born a boy, her life would have been different. She’d at least have been able to go to a proper school and get a job in some sort of profession.
Unless Camilla’s father proved for Morgana for the rest of her life, she’d never have anything.
Camilla had very few choices in life. Morgana even less.
“Will you play with me?” Morgana asked her as she straightened. “Please?” she added quickly. “No one plays with me anymore.”
“I’m sure your governess does.”
Morgana shook her head. “I don’t have a governess.”
Camilla frowned. “Well, your nursemaid.”
The girl’s head turned away.
“No nursemaid?” Camilla asked.
“Father couldn’t find one.”
That made no sense to Camilla.
“There are hardly any servants here.” Will was looking out in the hall. “I’ve seen two walk down the hall. A butler and a footman. One maid.”
“That makes no sense,” Camilla. “My father has the money for it.”
“He’d have to pay them enough to look past the sort of house this is. And even then, some servants would rather work elsewhere.”
Camilla said nothing as her mind searched for the deeper meaning of Will’s words.
Will narrowed his eyes. “When they left here, they’d eventually need a reference to work elsewhere.” He lifted a brow.
And Camilla understood. Even the lower class didn’t wish to be associated with Julia and Morgana. She knew that servants enjoyed gossip, but she hadn’t thought they’d have considered their own reputation while working in the house. It was shameful how little she considered their ways. Will came from their class. He knew.
“There are only three servants,” Morgana said. “Sometimes, Hannah plays with me.” Hannah must be the only maid in the house. “Mother used to play with me…” Morgana’s face scrunched up. Her eyes filled with tears. “But now she’s sick.”
Camilla touched the girl’s hair. “I’m… sorry your mother is sick.” She was but only for Morgana. Camilla couldn’t imagine being without her own mother.
“Father is sick too.”
Camilla frowned. “No, he isn’t.”
Morgana looked up and nodded. She looked at Camilla indignantly. She did not like being challenged. “Yes, he is. He told the doctor so.”
Camilla felt her gut twist. Was her father sick? He hadn’t said so before. She hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him. But then again, she rarely saw him.
She swallowed and looked at Will.
He was watching her.
And then the maid appeared. She gasped as she looked around. “Who are you…?” Her eyes widened at the sight of Camilla. “My lady.” She curtsied. “You’re not supposed to… I mean, I never…” She kept her head down. “I’ll go get your father.”
Camilla set Morgana away. It was time to deal with the matter of why she’d come.
She couldn’t allow Morgana to soften her resolve.
She stood so the girl wouldn’t be encouraged to grab her again.
Her father rushed into the room. From what Camilla could make of him, he didn’t seem sick at all. He looked surprised to actually see Camilla, but then he straightened his features.
“Lord Sencio.” He bowed. �
��Camilla, what’s this about?” He looked from Camilla to Will. There was a soft smile. “Have you come to ask for her hand?”
“No.” Camilla stepped forward. “I…” She stopped and looked down at Morgana. The girl was holding her skirts once more.
Yet for once, the child didn’t interrupt. She remained quiet and even partly hidden.
That was different.
Camilla looked up at her father and noticed him notice the strange behavior as well.
Camilla sighed and decided to ignore Morgana. “You sent me to look for a female doctor. Is the woman’s name Azalea?”
Her father’s eyes widened. “I… don’t know. I don’t know her name. I barely know anything about her.” He stepped forward. “Did you find her?”
He barely knew anything? Perhaps he didn’t know that Azalea was a murderer as well.
Yet before Camilla could hope for that truth, she asked, “Did you know she also made poisons?”
∫ ∫ ∫
4 6
* * *
Camilla’s father stiffened.
And she knew.
How her heart continued to beat around the knowledge, she didn’t know.
She broke once more.
Would her heart never learn? Would she always seek to trust those who had already proven they couldn’t be trusted?
The great Marcel James cleared his throat. “I’d… heard rumors.”
“You heard rumors and yet you still sent your daughter out to find her.” This came from Will. His face was no longer a mask of indifference. Now, he was angry.
Hornstein straightened and met Will’s eyes. “I heard rumors, as I stated. Also, I heard that she only poisoned men.”
“You sent your daughter to speak to a murderer?” Will’s voice rose. His eyes turned wild as he stepped toward the marquess. “You’d have let a murderer near her?”
A shiver went down Camilla’s side.
Wariness entered her father’s gaze. He took a step back but wasn’t quick enough.
“Will!”
Too late.
Her father gave a shout. “My lord!”
The knighted earl was on the other man. He grabbed him by the collar. “Perhaps it’s time you know what it’s like to be near a killer.”
The Exception of an Earl Page 23