Lord Chaplin nodded. “Yes. Our home is yours, Doctor Rowley. When will your guests be arriving?”
“I am going to pick them up and direct them here now, but I imagine we shall spend some time in London before our return. This afternoon would be our likely time of arrival here.” George gave the couple a bow of thanks. “I know this a difficult time. If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”
Lady Chaplin accepted his words with a nod. “I shall have the rooms down the hall from you prepped for your guests. They may stay as long as they like.”
“Thank you,” George said with true gratitude. He knew it was a trying time and he was impressed that they still found the generosity to open their home to strangers.
George knew they had other business to discuss so he left them with a bow. Out in the hallway, he took a breath and hurried to the front. The doorman greeted him. “The carriage you requested is outside, Sir,” he said as he held open the door for George.
“Excellent,” George said with a smile. He was perhaps getting too used to this household. He thought about that as he got into his carriage and told the driver, “Home, please. I am expecting guests.”
What would his life really be like if — no, when - he proposed to Miss Morton. George had to first get through this visit with his brother, the ensuing scandal with Miss Morton’s fiancé and sister, and then perhaps, just perhaps, he could talk her parents into seeing him as a suitable partner for their daughter. He closed his eyes but all he saw were Priscilla’s sea-blue eyes as she looked up at him.
George opened his eyes and looked out at the trees that lined this part of London thanks to the large estates of the wealthy. The trees were beginning to turn colors as if some errant fairy had skipped along the branches with paintbrushes. There were splashes of brown, red, and orange among the canopy.
It had seemed to George that the summer would last forever, but it never did. He thought of his patients and what challenges they would face as the seasons changed. George wondered what would happen to his patients as his life shifted.
He frowned at the thought of trying to run both a household and his practice. Would he be needed to take over the Chaplin household? The Lord and Lady were still quite robust and healthy.
It was the first time that he frowned when he thought of marrying Priscilla. It had nothing to do with her. George sighed. He would simply have to find a way to juggle it all, if it came to that.
The carriage halted in front of the house he rented. “Thank you,” George called, making sure his voice was cheerful. “No need to wait for me. My brother always insists on using his own carriage. So I shall have him convey to us when it is time.”
“As you say, Sir,” the carriage driver said with a tip of his hat. George watched the carriage leave before he turned towards his quaint little house with a sigh. He went inside and breathed in the familiar smells.
He gave a heavy sigh. “Wonder if Miss Morton would think this too shabby?” He had grown fond of his little house, not fond enough to never leave, but still, he liked the landlady very much and hated for her to lose a tenant.
George was still pondering over how to arrange all his nonexistent households when the sound of a carriage brought him out of his reverie. He stepped outside and was greeted by Nathaniel’s smiling face as his brother leaped from the carriage. “George!” Nathaniel’s arms flung wide and pulled George into an embrace that George had little choice in.
George patted Nathaniel’s back and chuckled. “Nathaniel. You certainly are in a good mood.”
“And why should I not be? I get to see my little brother and he gets to meet my beautiful soon-to-be wife. Is there better in the world?” Nathaniel looked at George as if he dared him to challenge his words.
George shook his head. “I suppose you have a valid point. But, there has been a change of plans. My patient at the Chaplin household has had a breakthrough, and I need to be there to support her. However,” George raised his hands to stop his brother’s crestfallen face, “I have made arrangements for you, and possibly your guest to stay at the Chaplin estate so that we can still visit.”
Nathaniel’s grin told George all he needed to know. His brother elbowed him. “I get to meet this fine young lady of yours?”
“She is not my—fine,” George sighed at seeing his brother’s face. “Yes you get to meet her, but please do not embarrass her or me.”
Nathaniel crossed his heart. “I would never, brother. And as for my guest, you must think me some rogue.” Nathaniel patted George’s shoulder. “She is staying with her family here in town. Her father had some business. I just thought it was the perfect opportunity for you two to meet.”
George said, “Ah, that does make more sense.”
Nathaniel chuckled. “Good of you to get a room for her as well. I’m sure Lady Chaplin will not mind one less guest.”
“I must tell you something,” George said as he motioned for Nathaniel to follow him into the house and off the streets. Once they were inside, George said, “There has been some scandal at the Chaplin house and things are in a bit of an uproar.”
Nathaniel laughed. “What have you done?”
“Nothing,” George insisted. Well, nothing that anyone knew of, George added silently to himself. “It is just that when Miss Morton remembered the night of her accident, she also recalled that the reason for her fall was that she had caught her fiancé and sister in a compromising situation.”
Nathaniel’s mouth dropped open. “Oh dear,” he whispered. “How is everyone taking it?”
“It all just came about last night and this morning and well, things have not all fallen into place yet. I suspect it may be a rough few days.” George shook his head. “I do not envy them going through this, but I think Miss Morton will be better off in the end.”
Nathaniel gave him a smile. “I dare say. Still pining for her?”
“No,” George told his brother.
There must have been something in the way he said it because Nathaniel’s face lit up with glee. “You told her, did you not? I can see it in your face!”
“I—I have no idea how you do that,” George said in frustration.
Nathaniel put his arm around George’s shoulder. “I am your older brother. I have known you since you were born.”
George sighed and admitted, “Yes, I told her.”
“And?” Nathaniel pressed, his face coming close to George’s as if to pull the very answer out of his brain.
George rolled his eyes. “And she feels the same.” He held up his hands to stop Nathaniel who was already rejoicing. “We need to keep that very quiet. It would not be right to bring all that up while the family deals with this.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Of course. I am not a simpleton, George.”
The two brothers stood there for a long moment before Nathaniel sighed. “I cannot wait to tell Father.”
“You will do no such thing,” George said with a laugh.
Nathaniel nodded. “I shall!”
“Fine. Have it your way,” George said benevolently. “I have not yet secured anyone’s permission other than the young lady’s for marrying her. So it might be a bit premature.”
His brother grinned that infuriating grin of his. “Oh, George, you always find a way.”
“Now, when do we meet this young lady of yours?” George asked to turn the conversation back onto his brother.
Nathaniel tapped his chin. “For lunch. I arranged to escort her to a little café near the docks that she favors. A nice public venue, with lots of chaperones.”
“I will make sure you stay in line, Brother,” George assured him.
Nathaniel shrugged. “I do not mind being a gentleman. After all, I wish to share my life with her, not just my bed.”
“I do say, you have it quite badly,” George grinned. Part of him felt guilty that he had not had so much principle.
Nathaniel hit him on the back. “Come on then, shall I convey you to the café or shal
l you go with me to meet Miss Blackwell?”
“I think you need the chaperone,” George told him, much to Nathaniel’s amusement.
The journey to the docks was much less personable from the back of a carriage. The breeze did not waft up from the ships the way it did when one was on foot. On warm days that was probably a bonus, as it saved the fish smell that permeated the area.
The neighbourhood they were in had been built by the merchants. It was their royal neighbourhood, with townhouses and lofty balconies that overlooked their fleets in the harbors. The seagulls called among the rooftops, never quite leaving the sea, giving sounds that probably felt like home to the sea-going merchants.
The house they stopped in front of was awash in blues and whites that put George in mind of some of the villas he had seen paintings of. A large man with black hair came out onto the porch of the house. He was the very spitting image of what George thought of as a pirate and a scoundrel of the sea.
The man looked odd framed in by the scrolling woodwork and daintily painted blues that spoke of family and home. “Nathaniel!” The man’s voice boomed out as Nathaniel stepped down from the carriage.
“Thomas, I did not know you would be back from your trip by now!” Nathaniel grasped the man’s arm at the elbow as the man returned the favor in what appeared to be a familiar greeting between them.
Thomas slapped Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Like I would let ya convey my daughter about without first inspecting ya!”
“Inspect me all you like,” Nathaniel said with a laugh. “I say, does this mean your trip was fruitful or did they send you packing?”
Thomas seemed all the more amused by the question. He shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “It was fruitful. But we are not here to discuss business. Say, who is that?”
George was forced by the man’s attention to reveal himself. He stepped down out of the carriage. Nathaniel introduced him with a grin. “This is my little brother, Doctor George Rowley!” Nathaniel waved his hand at the large black-haired man and said, “George, this is Sir Thomas Blackwell.”
“A doctor, say, I know that name. You work around these parts, do you not?” Thomas eyed George with interest.
George nodded and held his hand out to Thomas. The man took his hand in an iron grasp, and George tried not to wince. “Yes. I do work in the neighborhoods around the dock some. I come and go through here rather often.”
Thomas nodded. “Good on you. Most doctors stay away from the slums down by the river. Can’t say what good it does men to avoid the very people who would give them work, but I suppose they are too gentile for it.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I do not mean to interrupt,” he said with a smile at Thomas, “But I did come here to convey your daughter to lunch.”
Thomas chortled with laughter. He shook his finger at Nathaniel. “Medea will be down soon. She fusses with her hair.”
The two men shared a chuckle. George enjoyed seeing this side of Nathaniel. He often pictured his brother as working on the family estate, but apparently, Nathaniel was abroad more than George gave him credit for. Perhaps he did not know Nathaniel as well as he thought.
There was a commotion in the house and the door flung open. “Father!” A girl whose black hair and raven-colored eyes proved her lineage faster than any birth certificate stormed out. “What are you doing?”
Thomas chuckled. “I am greeting our guests, Medea.”
“Whatever he told you, it was a lie,” Medea told Nathaniel.
Nathaniel grinned. “He said you were fussing with your hair.”
Medea’s nose crinkled up in an adorable fashion. “That was not completely a lie.”
Thomas shook his head. “Young ladies and their fashion. Well, Nathaniel, I turn her over to you. I trust that the good doctor and our community shall ensure your good behavior.”
“Oh, Father, as if Lord Rowley has ever done anything out of the way,” Medea said as she hit her father on the arm. She breezed past the imposing merchant as if he were not at all the least bit intimidating. She gave Nathaniel a sweet smile. “Shall we? And then you can introduce me to your friend.”
George saw the family resemblance. The bossiness ran in the family, it seemed. Nathaniel consented with a nod to Thomas as he held out his hand to Medea. He helped the girl up into the carriage.
As soon as they were settled, Nathaniel explained, “Miss Blackwell, this is my brother, Doctor George Rowley.”
“Oh, I had hoped I would get to meet you,” Medea said with a broad grin at George. She held her hand out to him and George took it gently.
“And I have heard much of you,” George told her with a smile.
Nathaniel brushed George’s hand away, to everyone’s amusement. “I hope we are all hungry.”
“I am,” Medea said enthusiastically. “Have you eaten at The Seashell before, Doctor Rowley?”
George shook his head. “I do not normally have time to stop and eat when I am in the neighborhood.”
“The family who runs it are dear friends, and they serve the best food in London,” Medea said with such enthusiasm that George felt inclined to believe her.
Nathaniel informed George, “They have things other than seafood if you still have an aversion.”
Medea looked amused. “You do not like seafood?”
“When I was younger I did not like shellfish,” George told her. “I have not had a chance to eat much as an adult.”
Nathaniel chuckled. “We will not think less of you if you stick to the landlocked choices.”
Medea tapped Nathaniel’s sleeve. “You are horrible to your brother. Do not tease him so. I actually have a friend who gets quite sick from certain kinds of fish.”
George smiled at the couple. He could see the affection between them. Nathaniel leaned over and whispered something that George did not hear. Medea looked at George with interest. “Nathaniel seems to think you have a young lady. I should very much like to meet this future sister-in-law of mine.”
With a groan, George covered his face. “I have a feeling she would like to meet you too, but it is not yet set in stone that she and I will marry. It is just our wish.”
Medea gave George a knowing look. “Have not yet convinced her father, eh? Fathers can be quite the lot of idiots. He will come around.”
George chuckled. The young lady’s brisk manner was refreshing and he could see how Nathaniel and she had become acquainted. His brother also was not much for social conventions.
Chapter 13
It was horrible. Even if she were not present for it, she heard it all. The whole household did. Her father’s voice boomed through the hallways.
Priscilla sat in her room, hugging her knees to her. This was her fault. She could have protected Bridgitte. She felt horrible guilt for what was happening.
Lord Ridlington had been sent home straight away to face his own fate. Priscilla held no guilt toward the man. She just felt bad that she had not been able to protect her sister.
She sat there until the household fell silent. She sat there until the sun’s rays had moved across the floor. She sat there until a knock came at the door.
“Yes?” She called the question out, expecting it to be Gwen insisting she eats something. Yet it was not Gwen who came through the door.
Bridgitte looked around the oak door, her face held in shame. “May I come in?”
The Awakening 0f A Forbidden Passion (Historical Regency Romance) Page 27