by Jillian Kent
“James, sir,” he said smiling. “Me uncle’s Edward Hogarth. He’s taken me under his wing.”
Devlin gingerly sat up on the side of the bed, inspecting the lad. “And why is that?”
“Me mum says I’m gettin’ too big for me britches, and he should help do somethin’ about it since me pa’s dead.” James headed to the door. He turned and looked at Devlin. “I’ll be bringin’ another bucket, and then you can have yerself a nice warm bath.”
Devlin smiled, thinking James reminded him of someone, himself perhaps. Or maybe it was just that all young boys got into trouble sooner or later; it was just sooner for James.
The interruption of the boy filling the tub had temporarily distracted Devlin from himself and his sad state. Reevaluating his physical being, he realized Mrs. Hogarth was right. He did feel better.
Devlin slowly stood, his hands pressed to both temples, and focused on the tub to prevent the room from spinning. He tested the water with one hand. The temperature was so inviting that he quickly stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the tub, sinking low, with his knees above the water. A satisfied groan slipped from his throat.
The door creaked open after a quick rap of warning. “I see yer better,” Mrs. Hogarth said from the doorway, hands on hips and a wide grin on her face. “James is on his way, but said ye was still in bed. I thought I best check.”
Devlin slouched down as far as he could in the small tub. “Mrs. Hogarth, I would appreciate you turning your back. I’m not used to bathing in front of women. Have you lost your delicate senses?”
“I apologize to ye, Lord Ravensmoore. I lost me delicate senses years ago. It’s good to see ye still have yers.” She chortled and turned her back. “I’ll bring up a tray for ye when yer done bathin’.”
“Just have young James bring the tray, Mrs. Hogarth. That way I won’t surprise you, or my delicate senses.”
She quickly left the room, a wake of laughter floating on the air. Left alone, Devlin’s thoughts drifted to Madeline.
Now that he felt better, he wondered what he could have done or said differently. It’s hard to think when someone is stepping on your heart. Perhaps I reacted without thinking things through. I allowed my heart instead of my head to rule the conversation.
Another rap on the door. Devlin steeled himself for the reappearance of Mrs. Hogarth. “It better be a member of the male species, or I’m moving out,” he barked.
“I never knew you to have anything against women, Ravensmoore.” Melton entered the room with a large tray of food and a prankish grin on his face.
“Melton. I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow. Don’t tell me you and the countess had a falling-out as well.”
Melton set the tray of food on the cluttered desk, picked up a sandwich, and took a huge bite. “Mmmm, good,” he muttered, chewing away and shaking his head at the same time.
“Well. Why did you return? Not because of me, I hope. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for coming between the happy couple,” Devlin said dryly.
Melton swallowed. “I would not be here of my own accord, no matter how fond I am of you.” He grinned, a piece of lettuce stuck between his front teeth. “I was having an enjoyable time with Lady Gilling, most enjoyable.”
“Then what on earth are you doing here?” Devlin asked, arching a brow. He had a feeling he was not going to like what Melton had to say.
His friend took another bite of the sandwich and continued talking while he ate. “The countess and I came back to fetch you and Lady Madeline and discovered you had quarreled.”
“Is that what she called it?” Devlin muttered under his breath. “And we call them the gentler sex.”
Melton sat down in a chair close to the table. “We have to return to the hospital tomorrow. God knows when we’ll be free of Langford again. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” Devlin said. “I’m going to do nothing.”
Melton picked up yet another sandwich. “The countess says Lady Madeline is upset.”
“She’s upset? She’s upset?” he repeated in disbelief. “She rejected me.” He hit the surface of the water with his fist, splashing Melton.
Melton jumped up. “I don’t need a bath!” He took a nearby towel and wiped at his waistcoat. “So you’re just going to let her go. I thought you liked a challenge. I think you’ll be an incredible doctor, but when it comes to women… you have a lot to learn.” Melton sat down and continued eating.
“I suppose you, on the other hand, are an expert?”
Melton snorted.
The door creaked open, and James entered the room struggling with a bucket of hot water that sloshed all over the floor. “I’ll be heatin’ yer bath, yer lordship.” He stopped to catch his breath. “Though I fear the water’s coolin’ fast.”
“Don’t just sit there stuffing your face. Help the boy,” Devlin ordered, splashing water at Melton.
Picking up the bucket, Melton tested the water with his finger, went to the tub, and poured the contents over Devlin’s head. “Is this what you were waiting for, your majesty?”
The boy and Melton burst out laughing.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.” Devlin wiped the water from his eyes with the towel Melton tossed to him. “But it will do.”
Melton refused to let go of the subject. “So, just what do you plan to do?”
“I’m returning to my estate. I’m leaving medicine.”
James, who’d been mopping up the water, suddenly froze.
Melton nearly choked on his sandwich. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“On the contrary.”
“But why?” Melton stumbled over his words. “I thought you were committed for more than earthly reasons.”
“I’ve got my reasons.” Devlin picked up his soap, ready to scrub, and happened to spot James’s expression of horror. “What’s wrong, boy? Don’t you feel well?”
James stared at him. “Don’t go. Yer a good doctor.”
“And how would you know that?” Devlin studied the boy more closely. “Are you all right?”
James showed Devlin the palm of his hand
Devlin grabbed the sides of the tub. “You’re Jamie! You’re the boy I operated on in the surgery. Why didn’t you tell me?” The boy rushed from the room. Confused and ashamed, Devlin stared after him. “Melton. Bring him back here. I must apologize.”
Moments later Melton returned with the boy. “Here he is. I suggest you curb your enthusiasm for leaving medicine.”
Devlin donned a towel. “Come here, Jamie. Or is it James?”
“Me uncle calls me Jamie, but me aunt calls me James.” Head down, he shuffled toward Devlin.
“I’m sorry if I upset you. May I see your hand?” He held his hand out toward Jamie.
He opened his hand to show the scar. “It’s all better, yer lordship.”
Melton hovered over the boy. “Does it ever hurt?”
“Sometimes I get a stitch, but it goes away.”
Devlin rubbed his thumb over the scar. “Can you use it?”
“Yes, yer lordship.” Jamie wiggled his fingers, and they laughed. “That does my heart good this day, Jamie. I’m glad that whatever you choose to do with your life, you’ll be doing it with both hands.”
“You’re a fine doctor, yer lordship. I would have lost me hand without ye, says Dr. Langford. Me aunt Edna wanted to surprise ye, and that’s why she didn’t tell ye who I was. Said she thought ye were still too drunk to notice.”
Devlin winced. “I’m sorry, Jamie. Let this be a lesson to you about the danger of drink. Now go get your aunt so I can apologize to her as well.”
Devlin stood outside the church doors two days later. He longed to make peace with God and repent of his drunken self-indulgence that had done nothing to resolve his problems except to give him a roaring hangover and loss of esteem from his landlady, who heretofore thought him fairly flawless for a member of the male species. Gathering storm clouds and a fla
sh of lightning in the distance fit perfectly with his inner thoughts and sense of encroaching ruin. He hesitantly opened the door and entered the stone building.
No one sat in the pews, and the stained-glass church windows didn’t shine or cast its sparkling colors throughout God’s house. His remorseful soul aligned within this atmosphere, and the full weight of what he’d done crashed upon him like waves on a stormy sea.
“Forgive me.” He walked toward the front of the church and knelt at the altar. “Forgive me, Lord, for my thoughtless act of wallowing in drink. I have disappointed You, I have disappointed those who thought me trustworthy and decent, and I have disappointed myself. A model of what a man should be, I wasn’t, for the lad Jamie who attended me and thought so highly of me since his operation. All I can do is beg Your forgiveness. Give me strength to lean on You and not drink to solve my troubles.”
A wave rolled toward Madeline, climbing higher until it crested and collapsed into miniature waves at her feet. She chased the ripples back into the sea, water and sand squishing between her toes.
“Isn’t this simply wonderful?” she yelled over the roar of the surf. She spread her arms wide pretending to fly with the seagulls, swooping and swaying. Hally mimicked Madeline’s actions, following close behind. Their black bathing garments flapped in the heavy ocean breeze, giving them the appearance of earthbound birds.
Madeline and Hally laughed and collapsed in the sand just above the waves. “I’m so glad we came to Scarborough, even if it is too cold to swim.” Madeline stretched out on her back, enjoying the surprisingly warm day despite the cool wind coming off the water. “I feel like an entirely different being. The sea is a tonic for me. Just breathe in the freshness of it, Hally.”
“We’ve been here for two weeks, and every day you say the same thing.” Hally touched her arm. “It’s good to see you smile again, Maddie. You haven’t been this happy for a very long time. We should have come sooner.”
“I got caught up in memories of my father and couldn’t find my way out of the past.” Madeline sat up and started digging in the sand with her fingers, enjoying the cool, damp feel of it. “I still can’t find my way in some matters,” she said, but she refused to let the pain surface, choosing to concentrate on pleasant activities. Hally joined in Madeline’s sand play, and soon they were engrossed in the task of building a castle.
They returned to the Watersprite Inn for a delicious evening meal of potato leek soup, salmon, and asparagus. Later they joined other guests in the parlor for a game of whist. This nightly ritual began the evening they arrived and continued with whoever wished to play.
“I am surprised,” Lady Darby said, “that two lovely, young ladies like yourselves haven’t been followed by some besotted beaus.” She studied her cards.
Madeline watched the old woman carefully. Lady Darby, a widow for many years, flaunted a double chin, a keen eye, and a tongue for gossip.
“After all,” she continued, “there is little to do here so close to the sea after the sun goes down. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Smithe?” she asked her card partner.
“That would depend on what one has in mind of an evening.” He winked at Madeline.
Lady Darby peeked over her spectacles, her owlish eyes bestowing a knowing look on first Madeline and then Hally.
Hally giggled and blushed. “They are far too busy to be following us, Lady Darby.”
“So you are spoken for,” Lady Darby said. “How intriguing. Do tell.”
Madeline thought the woman too obvious, trying to worm her way into their confidences. She gently kicked Hally under the table in warning. “We are not spoken for, Lady Darby. I’m afraid Countess Gilling is giving you the wrong impression.”
“They are studying under the tutelage of Dr. Langford from London. They will soon be physicians,” Hally blurted out. “Lord Ravensmoore saved Madeline’s life on the hunt field.”
Madeline booted Hally under the table again, not so gently this time, and sent her a warning glance. Hally ignored her, declaring, “He’s a courageous soul.”
Lady Darby frowned. “No self-respecting gentleman would lower himself to work as a physician, dear. You must be mistaken.”
Mr. Smithe cleared his throat and fidgeted with his cards.
“I am not mistaken.” Hally slapped her cards on the table.
“Your mother will forbid it, Lady Madeline. I am quite certain she will not allow you to marry beneath your station. But once you do marry”—she looked about and lowered her voice—“you can always be discreet with your physician friend.”
Madeline turned beet red and dropped her cards. “What a horrible thing to say.”
“You go too far, Lady Darby,” Mr. Smithe said, folding his cards. “There’s no need—”
“I think we should excuse ourselves for the evening, Lady Darby,” Hally interposed hastily. “I am quite tired from our day’s activity.”
“Just one moment.” Lady Darby looked puzzled, then her countenance turned to dread. “Oh dear, now I remember.”
Lady Darby’s tone held Madeline captive in her seat.
“It is said that Countess Ravensmoore went mad when your physician-earl was only a boy. She died at Ashcroft Asylum. The Ravensmoore seed is tainted. But I daresay he did not tell you that.”
Madeline shot to her feet. “What a horrible thing to say.” Angry tears sprang to her eyes, and she fled the room, not wanting to make a further spectacle of herself.
She rushed out of the inn toward the cliffs above the sea. He would have told me such an important fact. He said he would never betray my trust. But how well do I know him, really? Thickening clouds and a brisk wind warned of an approaching storm, but Madeline took no heed. She ran toward the cliffs, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and rage.
“Oh God in heaven, it can’t be true. It mustn’t be true. Was I right to send him away after all? Is he like Vale and not to be trusted?”
Lightning streaked across the sky, briefly illuminating her path. The sea crashed against the rocks below. The rain soaked through her yellow muslin gown, and she shivered. Lady Darby’s spiteful words stung like the sudden pelting rain that mixed with her angry tears.
“God, why do You punish me? You have taken away everyone I have ever loved,” she shouted to the cloud-swept heavens. “I have fought the attraction I feel for Lord Ravensmoore. I have sent him away, not knowing if I could trust him, and yet even now, knowing of his mother, I feel like I’ve committed some grave error in judgment. Why do You turn Your back on me? You truly do not care for me...and once...a long time ago...I thought You loved me.” She dropped her head in her hands and sobbed.
CHAPTER 15
The sun also shines on the wicked.
—SENECA,
ROMAN PHILOSOPHER,
MID-FIRST CENTURY
ON THE JOURNEY back home Madeline sank into melancholia. The weather did not help her mood with its slow, seeping, drizzle of rain. A thunderstorm or downpour would have been a welcome change from the incessant weeping of the clouds. Even Hally, usually a bright spot in Madeline’s life, couldn’t rouse her, so she took refuge in naps while Madeline stared, sleepless, out the carriage window.
After two long days of travel, the coach dropped Hally at Gilling, then entered the road to Richfield just before the afternoon meal. Madeline, relishing the idea of a hot bath, closed her eyes and breathed deep. It had finally quit raining.
The butler opened the door. “Welcome back, Lady Madeline.”
“Good afternoon, Phineas. Would you have the footman take my trunk to my room and fill a warm bath for me?”
He took her cape and hat. “Immediately.”
She passed through the elegant foyer and entered her mother’s library. Mother had always loved this little hideaway. Her escape from the world, as she liked to call it. A place to keep her books and correspondence. Madeline knocked on the door and entered without waiting for permission. “Mother, I—”
Strange. Mother a
lways enjoyed reading here this time of day. Madeline looked about and noticed the drapes were drawn. “How strange,” she murmured. The drapes were rarely closed; Mother loved them open. Since it had finally stopped raining, perhaps her mother had decided to sit out in the garden. Madeline stepped out on the terrace leading to the gardens but did not see her mother anywhere.
Perhaps she and Lord Vale were out. But Phineas would have mentioned that to her. She ran up the stairs to her room, where the footmen were pouring water into a large tub. “Daisy? Are you in here?” she asked, looking about. “Have either of you seen Daisy?”
“Folding linens, I believe, yer ladyship. Shall I fetch her?” asked the taller of the two.
“Please.” After they departed her quarters, Madeline removed her gloves and unpinned her hair, which fell about her shoulders in tangled disarray. Wiggling her fingers in the water of the tub, she judged the temperature near perfect.
“My lady.” Daisy inched into the room, her arms full of bed linens and towels. “I didn’t expect ye.” She offered a small smile and set her load on the bed. “There now. Did ye have a nice holiday?”
“It left much to be desired, although the beach was lovely. I love the smell of the sea.”
“Let me help ye out of your travel clothes.” Daisy made quick work of discarding Madeline’s dress and underclothes and helped her into the tub.
“Ahh. Heavenly. Daisy, would you scent the water with my jasmine?”
Daisy picked up a glass container from Madeline’s vanity and poured a small amount of the perfume into the bathwater.
Madeline waved her hands under the water to disperse the jasmine. “Now, dear Daisy. Sit down and tell me where Mother is and what’s been going on since I left. You are being far too quiet, and I never even knew you possessed the ability.”
Daisy looked away. “I really must go, my lady. There is much to do, and I wouldn’t want to fall behind in my duties.” The maid placed the towels and linens in the appropriate drawers.