by Bree Wolf
Understanding Miss Davenport’s desperate need, Evelyn rose from her chair and sat down beside her on the bed, gently drawing the young woman’s trembling hands into her own. “You are a good person,” Evelyn said gently but insistently. “Don’t ever doubt that. Certainly, it was not a wise decision, but that does not change who you are deep down. You made a mistake. That’s all it was. And I do not believe that your brother has you watched because he wants to punish you. I think it may be his way of trying to protect you.”
A sob rose from Miss Davenport’s throat, and she clenched her jaw to prevent another from escaping. Her hands curled tightly around Evelyn’s as she fought the urge to fall apart.
“Have you spoken to your mother?”
Miss Davenport shook her head. “I do not dare. When father died, it broke her heart, and for weeks, we feared that she would join him. You remember how she was.”
Evelyn nodded, able to recall only too clearly the utter despair in the viscountess’s eyes. Not unlike the one Evelyn now saw in her daughter’s.
“I do not wish to burden her,” Miss Davenport continued. “And my brother does not understand. He is not one to dwell on emotions. All he sees he merely judges to be right or wrong. There is nothing beyond that.”
Evelyn swallowed, her heart aching for the young woman. Still, she could not stop herself from wondering if the young woman’s assessment of her brother was correct. “What will you do then?”
Miss Davenport drew in a slow breath. “My brother has determined that I am to have this…child…in secret.” Again, one hand went to cup the small bump. “Then it will be given to a good family, so that I will be able to re-enter society and hopefully make a good match so that he can be rid of me.” Her blue eyes held Evelyn’s, almost begging her to contradict her.
But Evelyn could not.
From what she had observed since she had arrived the day before, Miss Davenport’s estimation of her situation was correct. Clearly, Lord Ashwood wanted to keep his sister’s condition a secret. Although a part of her could understand why, the thought that he would force his sister to give up her child riled Evelyn in a way she would not have expected. “Is that what you want?” Evelyn asked, knowing that Miss Davenport’s wishes could not change the rules society lived by.
The young woman shrugged. “Do I have a choice?” she asked, her gaze clouded. “I’ve never thought of myself as the mothering type. Still, without a husband, I know very well that neither I nor my child have a chance if our situation becomes known.” She scoffed. “I cannot even fault my brother for his decision because in truth it is to my benefit, is it not?”
Evelyn could not deny that.
Releasing Evelyn’s hands, Miss Davenport lay back, her face pale and her eyes restless. “I wanted an adventure,” she said as though speaking to no one in particular. “One moment that was mine to choose. One moment that would make up for a life of rules and restrictions.” Again, she scoffed, “And whatever that moment was, I now cannot remember it. Does that qualify as an adventure?” She shook her head, fresh tears misting her eyes. “I do not mean to sound heartless, but if I keep this child, then my life will be over. I know that no matter what my brother would always take care of me–out of duty if nothing else–but once ruined, I could never re-enter society, never marry, never find love.” Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she turned to look at Evelyn. “I cannot imagine that. What would it feel like to have no hope?”
Not knowing what to say, Evelyn gently placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder, her gaze holding hers, trying to show that she understood. That she felt for her.
After a while, Miss Davenport’s lids began to close before she then drifted off into sleep. Evelyn sat at her bed a while longer, wondering if Miss Davenport could truly fathom what it would mean for her to give up her own child. Would that not also break her heart and thus ruin her life? Was there not a way to avoid either?
Rising to her feet, Evelyn doubted it. After all, society was not known for valuing people’s happiness above all else. Quite on the contrary, most rules appeared to have been made to ensure that unhappiness would develop one way or another. Would that ever change?
Stepping out of the chamber, Evelyn flinched when Mr. Adams addressed her, having all but forgotten his existence. “His lordship wishes to see you in his study.” An apologetic smile came to his face. “I’m sorry I startled you.”
Catching her breath, Evelyn shook her head. “There is no need. I…I was merely lost in thought I suppose.” Then she mumbled a quick goodbye and headed downstairs, wondering what Lord Ashwood wished to talk to her about. In all likelihood, he wanted to ask her about his sister’s well-being or to urge her to leave after all. Did he truly not believe that she was competent enough to take care of a woman in the family way? After all, this was far from complicated. The family situation at Farnworth Manor, however, had great potential of giving one the worst of headaches.
After knocking, Evelyn entered the room where her father had collapsed the previous day, and for a moment, she was relieved that her mind was distracted as she found herself facing the one man who seemed to be able to muddle her thoughts with his mere presence.
“How is my sister?” he asked as expected, his sharp grey eyes once more watching her carefully as though he hoped to spy a reason to distrust her. “I trust she is well.”
Evelyn gritted her teeth at the insult. Did he truly think she would not have informed him if his sister had taken a turn for the worse? Had she not done everything in her power to ensure that Miss Davenport recovered swiftly? And had it not in fact been his cold demeanour that had put his sister in the sick bed to begin with?
“She is fine,” Evelyn replied, unable to keep her annoyance from showing in her voice. “However, she needs to rest and avoid all unnecessary stress.” For a second she hesitated, but then the words simply flew from her lips. “Therefore, I advise you to refrain from agitating her again.”
Although Lord Ashwood’s eyes narrowed, a touch of confusion in them, he did not rebuke her. Instead, the barest hint of a smile curled up his lips. “I assure you, Miss Procten, my sister does not mind agitation as much as she minds boredom. I have no doubt that her fainting spell resulted mainly from her confinement to Farnworth Manor rather than anything I might have said. After all, she’s known me all her life.”
Frowning at this unexpected reaction, Evelyn had to admit that she was surprised by Lord Ashwood’s deeper knowledge of his sister’s character. He clearly did see his sister. Was it simply that he disliked who she was and sought to change her? Did he not see that that would make her even unhappier than she already was? Had he even asked her if she was willing to give up her own child? Or had he simply ordered her to do so?
Blinking, Evelyn realised that silence had hung about the room for a short while. In consequence, Lord Ashwood’s gaze was directed at her, his eyes slightly narrowed as they swept her face. “I might be mistaken,” he began rather tentatively, “but it is you who seems agitated at present. Or am I wrong?” Stepping around his desk, he came toward her, his chest rising as he inhaled a deep breath. “Is there a problem, Miss Procten?”
Chapter Seven – A Rare Moment
Richard felt the muscles in his shoulders tense as he waited for her to reply. Her eyes held his, and yet, her face was almost blank–at least to him–and he found it very unsettling not to know what she was thinking. In that moment as he all but held his breath waiting, Richard realised how highly he valued her opinion, how much it mattered what she thought of him.
Was she truly angry with him? What could he have done? Did she still blame him for her father collapsing the day before?
“I spent the past hour with your sister,” Miss Procten finally said. For all intents and purposes, it was a fairly neutral statement. A mere fact. Free of emotions or censure. Nothing that would explain the anger he sensed in her. Still, her voice held nothing friendly. In fact, she seemed to force out the words slowly to keep her
self from throwing them at his feet.
Richard wondered what his sister could have said that would have upset Miss Procten thus. “I see,” he mumbled, completely at a loss. His gaze remained on hers, and yet, the way she looked back at him made him feel as though he was missing the point. Had he not been listening? Had she said more than he had heard? “What is it that you wish to say?” Giving up from trying to decipher the expression on her face, Richard took a step forward, determined not to allow himself to be seen as indecisive or even unsettled.
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Miss Procten inhaled a deep breath. “She spoke to me of her…situation.”
Richard held his breath. Certainly, Miss Procten already knew that his sister was with child. However, he had never intended to share more with her–or the good doctor–than that. Had Claudia told her the whole, unfortunate story?
Gritting his teeth, Richard mumbled a silent curse.
“You disapprove,” Miss Procten commented, her dark brown eyes seemingly reading him without trouble. “Do you not think me trustworthy?”
Her lips had thinned, and Richard knew from his sister’s antics that that was not a good sign. “I do not know you well enough to determine whether or not you are indeed trustworthy,” he finally said. “Would you hold that against me?”
For a moment, the tension in her face seemed to weaken as though she realised that he was indeed correct. However, whatever had caused her initial disapproval of him quickly had her features hardening once more. “I am her doctor, and as such I need to be aware of my patient’s circumstances, anything that might promote or hinder her recovery.”
Richard frowned, taken aback at her bold-faced lie. “But you’re not her doctor. In fact, you’re no doctor at all.”
Seeing her face turn red, Richard felt oddly reminded of the description of a volcano eruption he had read some time ago. Her muscles seemed to tense almost to their breaking point, her hands clenching at her sides as she stared at him through narrowed eyes not unlike those of a hunter on the prowl. Any moment now, Richard was certain she would lash out at him.
But for what? Had he not merely stated the truth? Would she honestly hold this against him?
However, instead of erupting, Miss Procten seemed to manage to calm herself by taking a few slow but deep breaths, her eyes never leaving his as though he was the one to give her the strength to do so.
Once again, Richard was completely at a loss. Would he ever understand this woman?
“I did not come here,” Miss Procten finally said, her tone surprisingly even, “to talk about me. I came to speak to you about your sister. As her doctor,” she paused as though daring him to contradict her, “I felt compelled to inform you that your sister is quite affected by the decision you have forced upon her.”
Richard frowned at her accusation. Still, he was relieved that she was finally willing to explain herself. Although the underlying meaning of words often eluded him, at least on the surface words gave him more to work with than facial expressions did. “Pray tell what decision I forced upon her?”
Scoffing, she shook her head. “To give up her child,” she said, clearly disappointed that he even had to ask.
Shaking his head, Richard approached her. In reaction, her dark eyes widened ever so slightly, and Richard momentarily wondered why. “You are mistaken,” he said as calmly as he could as being near this woman and have her accuse him of a moral wrongdoing was slowly stirring his blood. “It was not my decision. After all, any young lady who finds herself in such a…predicament is offered this one option to return into society’s good graces. It is an unwritten rule. Ruined or not, as long as she can keep it quiet, hidden, she receives another chance.”
Again, Miss Procten’s eyes narrowed. However, Richard failed to detect the previous signs of anger he had seen on her face. Was she confused then? Still, how could what he had just said have confused her? Had she not been aware of society’s unwritten rule? As a doctor’s daughter, perhaps she had indeed not been.
“Quite frankly, my lord, I care very little for society’s rules,” she said, her arms once more rising to cross in front of her chest. “What I am concerned with is my patient’s well-being. Therefore, I feel it is my duty to inform you that forcing your sister to give up her child might have severe consequences.”
Not having expected that, Richard stared at her. “Quite on the contrary, Miss Procten, not giving up the child will have severe consequences,” he corrected her, wondering if he had misjudged her intellect. Was she a bit slow in the head?
As though to prove him right, Miss Procten’s eyes grew almost as round as plates and her jaw dropped a fraction. “Are you trying to play me for a fool, my lord?”
Never had anyone dared speak to him thus, and Richard could not decide what to make of it. Clearly, they were not communicating–at least not well–and he was not quite certain what the problem was. Still, in the back of his head, a very familiar voice whispered that usually under these circumstances it was him who was the problem. Or it had been him before…countless times. What was it that he did not see? What was it that he had misunderstood?
A deep frown drew down her brows as she absentmindedly took a step closer, her eyes studying his face. “You truly don’t understand, do you?” she whispered, a strange tone in her voice that Richard could not decipher.
However, what he did understand was that Miss Procten seemed to have realised his deficiency. Or at least was beginning to suspect it. In answer, his heart clenched, and he swallowed hard, humiliation at having his weakness revealed tensing his muscles. “I understand that you feel the need to meddle in other people’s affairs,” he snapped, saying the first thing that came to mind in order to throw her off his trail, “and I must say I do not care for it. I’ll ask you kindly to see merely to my sister’s recovery and nothing beyond that.”
“I am,” Miss Procten hissed, anger once more darkening her face, and yet, her eyes still roamed his face, unwilling to give up their post. “Healing the body alone does not make a patient well if the mind and heart are grieving. If you force your sister to give up her child, she may never get well.”
Taken aback, Richard stopped. “You cannot be serious,” he mumbled, squinting his eyes in the hopes of detecting any sign of duplicity. Was it now her who was trying to play him for a fool?
Miss Procten heaved a deep sigh. “The loss of a child,” she began, “can cripple a woman. Perhaps not her body, but everything else she is.” She opened her mouth, but then paused, clearly choosing her words with care. “Do you not remember how your mother broke down after your father’s death?”
Richard swallowed.
“It broke her heart,” Miss Procten continued, her brown eyes suddenly soft as they held his. Still, there was a sadness in them that stole his breath. “It nearly killed her, and yet, her body was fine. Unharmed.” She lifted her hands, and for a moment, Richard feared–hoped! –that she would touch him.
However, she did not.
Her hands danced through the air as she sought to explain something he assumed she had expected him to be aware of, something that was common knowledge, something that usually needed no explanation. “Your sister might befall the same fate,” she all but whispered, “if you force her to give up her child. I beg you to reconsider.”
Pain radiated through his jaw, and Richard realised that he was clenching his teeth together to keep at bay the sudden anger that had gripped him. Did she truly think he did not care for his sister’s well-being? That he did not mind causing her pain? Did Miss Procten not realise that he did what he did to spare his sister pain?
“You speak of things you do not understand,” he snarled, annoyed with himself for allowing his emotions to show. “My sister is not the kind of woman who would find happiness in motherhood. Her happiness requires something else, something I seek to provide her with.” He took another step closer, noting the way her mouth opened and closed as she thought about how to reply. “And that is
all I will say about this matter. Now, if you please…” He trailed off, merely gesturing at the door.
The moment Richard was about to turn away and head back to his desk, she spoke out. “No!” Her voice was determined, and the eyes that held his remained unflinching. “I will not. I demand that you hear me out. It’s the least you can do.”
Although Richard could not deny that her stubbornness annoyed him, neither could he help but applaud her courage to defy him so openly. Few people ever dared. After all, he was the cold-hearted viscount. The man with no heart. The man as cold as ice. Was that not what people said?
Lowering his head, he stared her down with a glower that had most people quake in their shoes. “This,” he snarled, “does not concern you.” There, he had done it. Surely, she would run from him now.
But she did not.
Instead, Miss Procten pushed back her shoulders, lifted her chin and then even had the audacity to take a step forward, a clear challenge lighting up her eyes as she invaded his privacy. “You are mistaken,” she said quietly. “It does concern me.”
Grinding his teeth together, Richard felt torn between pushing her away and yanking her into his arms. His hands pulsed with the need to reach for her, and he wondered if there was anything he could do that would make her back down. Still, the question remained how far was he willing to go? After all, he was a man of honour, and yet, her close proximity made it awfully hard to remember why.
“I’m certain there is another way,” Miss Procten began, her warm breath tickling his chin, “that would allow your sister to keep her child and–”
“No!” Richard growled, feeling his faculties slip away. “This is none of your concern, and by not acknowledging that, you’re overstepping a line.”
Her lips pressed into an angry line, and her nose crinkled in disgust at the words he had hurled at her. Still, she did not retreat, and Richard realised that no matter what he said he would not be able to dissuade her. Perhaps if he…