by Jillian Kent
She stopped before she got to the breakfast room when she heard her mother’s jaunty tune drifting down the hall. “She is whistling,” Madeline muttered irritably under her breath. Steeling herself for the worst, she entered the room.
“Madeline, dear, how are you feeling this morning?” Grace asked pleasantly.
“Don’t you think the better question is, why are you whistling?”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Grace asked. “I’ve whistled before.”
“Oh no, you haven’t. Not since before Father’s death at least. Are you over him so soon?” Madeline demanded.
“What kind of question is that? And how dare you ask it? It’s been a year, a bit more than a year since you’re counting so carefully.” Grace knocked over her teacup as she reached for the sugar. A dark stain formed on the cream-colored tablecloth and seeped across the table.
“I need to know, that’s all.”
Madeline followed her mother’s gaze to the portrait of Thurston Whittington and stood rigidly at the end of the table. “Mother, are you listening to me? Do you have strong feelings for Lord Vale?” she asked, remembering the scene she had stumbled on the night before, a scene she would just as soon forget.
“Well, certainly not the same feelings I had for your father. Lord Vale is entertaining. I need someone to make me laugh. I miss laughing.”
Madeline held her breath. “You know what I’m trying to say, Mother…” Madeline felt the heat spread up her neck and into her face. “Romantic feelings.”
“Madeline! That is no concern of yours. I am very fond of Lord Vale. As I said, he makes me laugh. He was a friend of your father.”
“Mother, quit dancing around the question, please. You kissed him. And how do you know, really know, he was a friend of Papa?”
“He said he was, dear, and I’m certain that your father mentioned him on more than one occasion. What possible reason could he have for lying? I think you are making too much of this. Let’s talk of something else.”
“I don’t want to talk about something else. I want to know what you plan to do about Lord Vale. And I’ll tell you why he might be lying,” Madeline continued, undaunted. “He can get himself a wealthy widow… and access to everything you own.”
“But he needs nothing from me. He’s wealthy in his own right. And I’m not planning anything.” Grace put both her hands flat on the table.
“Will you marry him if he asks you?”
Grace looked stunned. “I don’t know.”
“You are thinking about it though, aren’t you?” Madeline continued to push. “I can see it in your face. I saw it in his eyes last night at dinner. I can see right through him, and he knows it!”
“You, my dear child, have an overactive imagination.”
“Promise me you won’t marry the man until you know him better. Please.” Feeling defeated and tired, Madeline sank into a chair at the far end of the table.
“I can’t make such a promise. It is unfair of you to ask such a thing. Someday soon you will be married and gone, and I will be here. Alone.”
The cook, rosy-cheeked from the heat of the kitchen, bustled in with a platter of ham, poached eggs, and a wedge of cheese and added them to the bounty on the sideboard. “Why, you’ve spilled your tea, ma’am. Why didn’t you ring for me? I’ll go brew up some more right off.”
“Never mind, Cook. I’ve lost my appetite,” Grace said, staring at her daughter. “But I’m certain Madeline is ready for breakfast. I believe she’s worked up quite an appetite. Excuse me.” She pushed herself away from the table and left the room.
Hally entered the breakfast room wearing a burgundy walking dress. “What’s happened? Your mother just rushed by me. I think she was crying.”
“We argued about Lord Vale.” The morning meal did not tempt her. She pushed the eggs around on her plate and thought about all that had happened. She didn’t want to discuss Vale, so she quickly changed the subject to one that she knew would distract her friend. “Hally, I have something to confess. I have been harboring the young woman from the asylum.”
Hally nearly toppled the plate of food in her hands at the sideboard as she swiveled to face Madeline. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Shh. No one else knows. Not even Mother.” Madeline’s head ached from worry and guilt and certainly from the fall on the hunt field. She propped an elbow on the table and held her hand across her forehead. “What am I going to do?”
The cook entered the room with a large freshly brewed pot of tea. “Good morning, Countess. I see at least you have an appetite this morning.” She set the silver pot on the sideboard. “Let me pour tea for you and Lady Madeline, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Thank you, Cook.”
The moment the cook left the room Hally said, “You will tell me everything immediately and from the beginning.”
Madeline sipped her tea and explained the details of the last few days. “So you see what a mess I’ve made. When Lord Vale discovers that I’m harboring the young woman from the asylum, he will think I’ve lost my senses, but worse than that he will make Amanda return to that dreadful place. And then when my mother finds out, it will be even worse. She’ll accuse me of interfering and taking matters I ought not be taking into my own hands. This will cause a rift between her and Vale. What am I going to do?”
“First we pray. Then you are going to take me to see this girl. Perhaps I can help. And then we are going shopping. Shopping solves a multitude of worries.” Hally took Madeline’s hand in hers. “Lord in heaven, thank You for all that we have. Make known to us the wisdom we need for what is to come and the strength to carry out Your will. Amen.”
The cabin door stood open. Madeline gasped. “I didn’t lock her in. I thought she’d stay if she knew I would bring her food.”
Hally held her hand up in prudent warning. “Let’s not assume the worst.”
“But what if she’s gone? What if the keepers discovered her?”
“One step at a time, my friend.”
Tethering their horses nearby, they hurried to the cabin looking for signs of danger. Madeline lifted her skirt and climbed the steps next to Hally until they reached the door.
Madeline peeked cautiously inside. “Nothing seems amiss. There is no sign of damage.” She waved Hally forward.
“Amanda? Are you here? Are you all right? She’s not here.” Tears stung Madeline’s eyes as she looked into the front room where she had last seen the girl. A chill pervaded the cabin, and the glassy eyes of mounted deer heads were the only things staring back at her. She shivered and thought she could never kill anything.
Hally joined her in the foyer of the cabin. “There has to be what— five or six bedrooms? Let’s look through all of them.”
They searched the lodge together, making quick work of it. Hally stopped and pointed out an upstairs window. “I think we’ve found her.”
Madeline’s eyes followed Hally’s direction. “It’s her! Sweet relief.” She placed her hand over her heart. “She’s praying. Hally, remain in the cabin. I’ll bring her in after I tell her about you.”
Madeline hurried outside. The girl, still on her knees, scrambled forward toward the woods.
“Amanda, it’s me. Your friend, Lady Madeline. You frightened me when I couldn’t find you.”
The girl glanced back over her shoulder and then slowed her steps.
“Forgive me, Amanda.” Madeline rushed to the girl’s side. “I didn’t mean to startle you and interrupt your prayers. I’ve brought a friend with me.”
The girl looked wildly about. Her eyes wide, she seemed ready to dash away.
“She’s my friend. She won’t hurt you. Come with me into the cabin.” Madeline held her hand out toward the girl. “Come. We’ve brought you food to eat.”
That must have made good sense to her, for she followed Madeline into the cabin but refused to hold her hand. Madeline and Hally watched Amanda eat cucumber sandwiches until she could eat no
more, drink her fill of warm milk, and enjoy a gingerbread cookie. They left the girl snuggled deep into the blankets from one of the bedrooms and returned to Richfield to embark on their shopping excursion to York.
Safely ensconced in the carriage at last, Madeline leaned back and sighed. “Hally, you are right. A trip to town is exactly what I needed. Now that I know the girl is safe, I might be able to relax and enjoy myself.”
Hally looked her way. “Maddie, what do you plan to do about the girl? You can’t keep her in the hunting lodge forever.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I suppose I could be in a great deal of trouble on several levels.” She closed her eyes and ticked them off in her mind as she spoke them aloud. “First, I believe it’s a crime to harbor an escapee from the lunatic asylum. Second, Lord Vale has taken an interest in the girl since he is helping to support the asylum. Three, my mother believes she’s in love with Vale, and when she finds out what I’ve done, that will only complicate her ‘romance’ further. Fourth, I believe—”
“Enough! I do think you are aware of the gravity of the situation. Have you—”
The carriage suddenly rocked to one side and tipped. Madeline’s eyes flew open as she tumbled to the floor. To her horror the door hung open, and Hally was no longer sitting across from her. Hally was not in the carriage at all.
CHAPTER 6
Every heart hath its own ache.
—ANONYMOUS
THROUGH THE CLAMOR of the patients Devlin heard the clock chime once as the morning hours disappeared into the afternoon. He grabbed a bite of lunch before heading back into surgery with Langford. A burly man lay facedown on the same table the boy had earlier occupied. Blood soaked through a well-worn sheet. An attendant stepped away from the table as they entered.
“Mr. Matthews,” Langford said, “would you kindly tell us what happened to you?”
“The wife caught me in bed with her sister,” he explained, eyeing the group suspiciously. “Grabbed me own gun and shot me. Ye can see where. Lucky she didn’t ruin me chances o’ havin’ more children. But I doubt she’ll be wantin’ more with the likes o’ me.” He grimaced.
Devlin asked, “Is the pain bad?”
“No, blast it! I think me bum’s gone numb, it has.”
“We’re going to take a look now, Mr. Matthews, and then you’ll be off for your surgery.” Langford exposed the wound site.
The group shuffled forward to gain a better look. Matthews groaned. “Ye look like a herd of butchers in them blood-speckled aprons.”
Devlin struggled with the image. Is that really how Lady Madeline saw him? Surgery wasn’t neat or pretty, but with enough knowledge and a steady hand, he thought it would certainly save lives.
Langford removed the dressing, exposing a hole where the small ball from the weapon had entered. The black and purple skin appeared ripe with infection.
“Ravensmoore, you’ll be doing this one as well,” Langford said.
After the laudanum took effect, Devlin followed the attendant, who transferred the patient to the operating area. The surgery went smoothly, although it took Devlin several attempts to extract the ball deeply embedded in the patient’s flesh.
Devlin wiped his hands on his apron after suturing the wound. “He won’t be sitting down comfortably for a while, but under the circumstances he’s fortunate his wife didn’t kill him.”
“Your skills as a surgeon are to be commended, Ravensmoore.” Langford shook Devlin’s bloodstained hand. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”
Devlin couldn’t believe his ears. It took every muscle in his face not to allow his mouth to gape open in astonishment. The stubborn old doctor had actually complimented him twice in one morning. A miracle indeed, he thought with pleasure. Thank You, Lord.
Suddenly, the door to the amphitheater burst open, and Willie, the receptionist, shouted, “Right sorry to disturb you, Dr. Langford, but there’s been an accident.”
“Hally?” Madeline knelt beside her friend on the cobblestone street that had quickly filled with shopkeepers and townspeople crowding about to see what had happened. “Hally, your head is bleeding. Don’t move. I’ve sent for assistance.”
“Poppycock. I’m perfectly well. You really must let me up.” Hally groaned. “This wretched street is killing my back. Besides, I detest being on display, Maddie. Just listen to everyone oohing and ahhing as if they were watching a circus performance. They act as though they’ve never seen a carriage accident.”
“Well, at least you’re not speaking nonsense. Maybe you didn’t hit your head too hard. Still, it’s best not to take any chances.”
“Dearest Maddie, I never speak nonsense. How is that poor farmer who fell off his wagon?”
“I’m not certain. He isn’t standing either.” Madeline surveyed the cluttered street. The farmer’s wagon and their carriage had blocked all traffic after the collision.
A pair of blood-spattered boots appeared next to Madeline. “May we be of assistance?”
Her heart skipped a beat, whether because of the voice or the horrendous look of those boots, she was not certain. She forced her gaze up into Ravensmoore’s concerned eyes and sighed in frustration. “I do not believe we will be needing your assistance, Lord Ravensmoore. Look at you. You are covered with blood from one of your recent attempts at”—she lifted a brow in disdain—“butchery.”
“She may not want your assistance, but I certainly do,” Hally interrupted. “My stubborn friend refuses to let me get up, and now, she refuses your help. I must protest, Maddie.”
Ravensmoore knelt next to Hally. “You have a nasty gash on your forehead, Countess. Since I make Lady Madeline uncomfortable with my presence, I will leave you in the capable hands of my colleague, Mr. Charles Melton.” He turned to Melton. “This is the Countess Gilling. Please attend to her while I check the local farmer, who, from all appearances, is responsible for this fine mess.”
Melton scrambled forward, eager to be of assistance. “I am at your service.”
“Thank you, Mr. Melton,” Madeline said, as she watched Ravensmoore hurry to the aid of the old farmer. “Please be careful.”
“Of course, madam.”
“Such a bother,” Hally said. “It is nothing I assure you, sir.”
“Allow me to be the judge of that, dear lady. Does anything hurt?”
“Only my pride.”
Hally’s voice caused Madeline to pull her eyes away from Ravensmoore and stare in surprise.
“In that case, just put your arms around my neck, Countess Gilling. I will carry you to the hospital and give you proper attention.”
“Thank you, Mr. Melton. That is most kind, but I do believe I can walk with just a little assistance.”
“I would not dream of letting you walk.”
Hally blushed. Madeline could not believe her eyes. When was the last time she saw her friend blush? And in the arms of a man no less. “I will come with you.”
“No need,” Hally said. “I do believe I am in capable hands. I know how much you dislike hospitals.”
Madeline smiled as she watched Melton easily carry Hally toward the entrance of the Guardian Gate Hospital. “I do believe you are in capable hands, dear friend.” She then turned her attention to Ravensmoore.
Why did this man so irritate her? He immediately took charge of the situation and had the old farmer on his feet moments after assessing him for injuries. It appeared that Ravensmoore’s current patient suffered from a slight limp but otherwise seemed well. She watched curiously as he instructed two of the shopkeepers to assist the elderly man to the hospital. As the shopkeepers passed her with the elderly man balanced between them, they suddenly stopped. “I’m right sorry fer the trouble, yer ladyship, right sorry. Is the other lady badly injured? I saw her tumble out the door when me wagon hit the carriage. Do forgive me.”
Madeline’s distress over the accident melted at this plea for forgiveness. “It was but an unfortunate accident, dear man. No n
eed to worry.”
“You won’t be bringing charges then?” His gray eyes looked hopeful. “You forgive me?”
“Yes, I forgive you. And I will not bring charges against you.”
The elderly man sighed in relief. “Thank you, yer ladyship. Yer most kind.”
Ravensmoore came up behind his patient and raised an eyebrow while looking at Madeline. “I imagine her ladyship’s forgiveness will do much to ease your pain, but come now, we must not tarry. I want to get a crutch for you to use and see that someone escorts you home where your wife can take proper care of you.”
His words did not escape her attention, and a twinge of guilt plucked at her heart. “May I accompany you? I must see how Countess Gilling progresses.”
“An honor,” Ravensmoore said, falling into step beside her. “Speaking of progress, is your arm improving? You’re certain the carriage accident did not worsen the injury?”
“I am well, thank you.”
“I imagine the hospital is the last place you wish to visit.”
Madeline stiffened. “I loathe death and disease. I want to be as far away from those twin evils as possible.” She straightened her lilac bonnet and brushed the dust from the street off her matching walking dress. “Having only one good arm now has made the simplest chore frustrating.”
“Forgive me for asking, especially if it opens old wounds, but have you lost someone other than your father?”
Madeline wanted him to know. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt compelled to share the information with him. “My younger brother… and two sisters. Miriam, my youngest sister, died in infancy. The others contracted smallpox. It was horrible.”
“I begin to understand your dislike of the medical profession. If your family could not be saved, why should you put any trust in medicine or those who practice it?”
“Exactly.”
“There is so much that needs to be discovered in order for people to combat disease. Just like Jenner’s discovery of the smallpox vaccine. I vow someday I will discover a way to prevent infection. Just imagine how many lives could be saved if that were to occur.”