“Get yourself together,” he derided. “I am returning you to your brother directly. I do not want to contract whatever ailment has befallen you.” He straightened his sleeves and ran a hand through his wavy auburn hair. “And be quick about it.”
He stood impatiently several feet away, muttering to himself about repulsive sick women.
Anna brought herself to a seated position and breathed deeply of the fresh air. Despite a slight tremble, she felt better. She retrieved her embroidered handkerchief from between her breasts and dabbed at her mouth. Thankfully, her hair had only been mussed from the grass and not from her illness. The rest of her appeared to be clean but for grass and dirt stains.
She extended her hand toward Anthony, but he stared back at her with indifference in his malevolent green eyes. How had she ever thought him handsome?
Sighing, she struggled to her feet on her own. She straightened her gown and fixed the few fallen strands of her hair from her coiffure.
“There we have it,” Anthony murmured, as though he had aided her in righting herself. “Let us return you to Major Bradley.”
“Might I freshen myself in the retiring room first?”
Astonishingly, he nodded. “I will fetch your brother.”
He sped ahead of her, leaving Anna to walk alone to another side door into a long, dark corridor. It took her only minutes, but she found the ladies’ retiring room.
She stared in disbelief at herself in the mirror. Her face had narrowed; her skin was ashen and her eyes despondent.
How had her life turned so askew in so short a time? It felt a mere few days past that she and Lane had been kidnapped and dragged hither and yon at the whim of some scoundrel named “The Boss.” It felt months, however, since she and Lane had lain together.
With a tired sigh, Anna poured fresh water from a nearby pitcher into the large washbasin on the table in front of her. She dipped her handkerchief in to clean it, then dabbed her forehead with the wonderfully cool water. This evening had gotten out of hand rapidly. She had not thought that she would have been caught lying to Anthony, let alone attacked by him.
Another wave of nausea came over her so quickly, she had just enough time to reach the chamber pot before she once more cast up her accounts.
“Good heavens,” she muttered to herself.
“Annabel?” Charles’ dear voice came from just outside the door. “Annabel, are you well? Do you require assistance? I have sent Mama to summon a hack, but I could fetch her if you wish it.”
“No, thank you, Charles,” she called from behind the division screen. “I will be out directly.”
Anna replaced the chamber pot lid, then returned to retrieve her handkerchief. She wrung it out and placed it between her breasts. She scooped some water from the washbasin and rinsed her mouth out as best she could without tooth powder and a brush. She dumped the bowl out the window into the garden below then replaced it on its stand.
With one last look in the mirror at her pallid complexion, Anna quit the room. The moment she was through the door, Charles pulled her into his embrace. The comfort he offered was too much for her tried and tired emotions to bear, and tears sprang to her eyes.
“There, there, Anna.” Charles crooned. “We will have you home soon.”
Anna sniffled, pressing herself against his chest. “You are a wonderful elder brother, Charles. I do not know what I would do without you.”
“Nor I you.” He kissed her damp forehead and dabbed her eyes with his own kerchief.
He slowly led her down the hall and through the side door. Anna was grateful that he did not take her through the ballroom in this state. She could not abide the curious stares and probing glances.
“Where did Anthony go?” She looked up at Charles as he helped her into the hack—where she sat down comfortably beside her Mama.
Charles’ expression was carefully blank as he entered after Anna and knocked once on the ceiling. “Lord Boxton expressed his confidence in Mama’s and my own abilities to escort you safely home. He sends his well wishes for your health.”
Anna nodded, hiding her relief with great effort. She had certainly dealt with enough of his company for one evening.
“You poor dear.” Mama turned in her seat and laid the back of her hand on Anna’s forehead. “You do not feel feverish, thank the good Lord.”
“I feel fine, Mama. There is no need to be concerned. I think it may have been something I ate, or perhaps the champagne, that is all.” Or it was the thought of being intimate with a monster like Boxton. She smiled for their benefit.
“Regardless of how you claim to feel, Anna, you will be examined by a doctor when we return home.”
Anna thought instantly of the bruises that were sure to be fully formed on her upper arms, her cheek, and her bottom, and shook her head. “Oh, no. That is not necessary,” she assured them. “All I require is a hot bath, some tea, and a good night of sleep.”
“You will not avoid this, Annabel,” Charles warned. “You swore to me that you would submit to a doctor’s examination if you had another spell. I will not allow you to go untended any longer. This ends tonight.”
Her heart flip-flopped. Charles was concerned for her welfare, it was evident by his angry and overbearing demeanour, but if he learned of her bruises, he would suspect Anthony of abuse. And if he tried to end their engagement, then all of this would be for naught, and Anthony would strike.
“I understand your concern, Charles, but I really do feel fine.”
“Fine or not, you are seeing a physician. It is futile to argue, Anna. My decision will not be altered.”
Oh, dear. She would have to fabricate an excuse for the colourful marks on her body. “Very well.”
The ride home was silent and uncomfortable, but blessedly short. Upon arriving at their town house, Annabel went straight to her room with Marie—who thankfully did not complain about having to work after Anna had given her the evening off—washed, and dressed in her nightclothes.
“Would you like me to fetch you some tea, Miss Bradley?”
“Yes, please, Marie. Thank you.”
Her maid left silently as Anna gazed out her window into the night. The doctor should arrive shortly, and Anna believed that she had formulated a plausible explanation for her bruises. Please let it work.
Good heavens, but she was exhausted.
Chapter 25
Major Charles Bradley paced the foyer, waiting for the doctor’s forthcoming arrival. He’d suspected that Annabel was hiding something from him since she had been abducted, but she had been frustratingly tight-lipped. But she could not hide it from the good doctor.
The clipped sound of his tread echoed through the room with every step. He had sent the servants to bed an hour past, after he had sent for the physician.
His heart leapt as a knock on the door reverberated through the house. Charles quickly opened it and stood aside.
“My Lord, thank you very much for coming. I apologize for taking you away from your parents’ ball.”
Lord Simon Claridge, heir apparent to the Earldom of Merrington, stepped over the threshold. He had obviously changed out of his evening attire before he’d departed his home, for he was wearing a brown coat and trousers, a plain black waistcoat, and a simple knot in his white cravat. A very practical ensemble for a doctor.
“It is my duty and my pleasure, Major. But please, call me Dr. Claridge or Simon.” He smiled amiably.
“Very well.” Charles gave a half smile in return. “Please accompany me to my study.” He motioned for Dr. Claridge to follow him as he started across the foyer to the hall.
“Is Miss Bradley in your study?” He sounded surprised.
“No,” Charles grinned mirthlessly. “She is in her bedchamber. I, however, have several matters which I wish to discuss with you prior to your examination of Annabel.”
“I see.” Though by the tone of his voice, Charles could tell that he did
n’t.
He preceded the doctor into his study and closed the door behind him.
“Please, have a seat. Would you care for a drink, Dr. Claridge?” Charles went to his Tantalus and poured himself a glass of fine brandy.
“No, thank you,” the doctor replied. He placed his large, black physician’s bag on the floor and sat in the chair that Charles had indicated. “What did you wish to discuss?”
Charles brought his glass with him as he sat in the grand, leather wingback chair behind his desk and gazed solemnly at the man across from him. “I would first like your vow of discretion when it comes to your examination of my sister.”
The doctor shook his head. “I never discuss my patients with anyone but the patient or guardian, unless previously authorized to do so. You have my promise to be discreet.”
Charles inclined his head, wishing that it did not have to come to this. “My thanks. I am going to tell you something, regarding my sister, that also requires your secrecy.”
Dr. Claridge watched him curiously. “As you wish.”
Charles uttered a humourless laugh, shaking his head self-deprecatingly. “Truthfully, I have difficulty believing that I am about to confide in you in such a manner, Dr. Claridge. I believe, however, that this is necessary if you are to examine Anna properly.” He drank deeply of his brandy, then took a deep breath. “Approximately nine weeks ago, my sister and Lord Devon were abducted from Hyde Park—”
“You’re bamming me!”
Charles raised one eyebrow. “I assure you, I am not.” The shock on Dr. Claridge’s face did not abate as Charles recounted the basics of the tale.
“Bloody hell.” Dr. Claridge rubbed his face with one hand. “I mean… Pardon me, but…bloody hell.”
“My thoughts, precisely. My concern at this moment, however, is that I suspect Anna is hiding something. Something that occurred during her experience with the blackguards hired to abduct her. Her appetite has diminished, she is not sleeping, and she has been feeling rather ill. I fear that her harrowing experience has affected her emotions so greatly that she is sinking into a decline.” He finished the last of his brandy with one swallow, scarcely taking notice of the liquid heat burning its way to his knotted stomach.
“I will only know more once I have examined your sister.”
“I have a request to make of you, then.” Charles sat forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his desk. He looked Dr. Claridge directly in the eye. “I need you to inform me exactly what it is that my sister has been hiding from me, and what it is that ails her.” He paused. “Cost is no object. Annabel’s health is of the utmost importance to me.”
* * *
Anna reclined in her bed as Dr. Simon Claridge continued his examination. She felt distinctly exposed, sprawled before him in only her night rail. The room was bright, with the fire in the hearth and several candelabras lit nearby, putting her scantily clad form in stark relief.
“How did you come by these bruises, Miss Bradley?” His searching blue gaze traveled over her face.
“I fell.” It was plausible. She could have very easily fallen and gotten marks from it.
He nodded his head, a lock of his ebony hair falling over his brow. “I see.” He put his fingers to her wrist and stared at his pocket watch. “Very good,” he murmured. “Please sit up.”
He assisted her into a seated position and put an odd contraption to her back. “Breathe in.” His voice was low and calm. “Very good, now breathe out. Good. Now lie back down, please.”
Anna did as she was told while marvelling at his soothing voice.
“For how long have you felt ill?” He returned the contraption to his black bag.
“It has only been a few days.”
“What are your symptoms? Could you describe them to me?”
“I have been dizzy, which is most certainly due to a lack of sleep. My appetite has fled, but, I rather put that to emotional stress. And most recently, I became ill after…after I ate some rather foul-smelling fish sauce.” She carefully avoided mentioning Anthony’s attack.
“I see.” He smiled warmly at her then hovered his hands above her torso, his gaze questioning. “I am afraid that I must be slightly forward with you for a moment.”
Anna nodded.
“Do you mind if I ask you some rather personal questions?”
Something about him made her feel quite comfortable with anything he wished to do. “I give you permission to continue your examination, your lordship.”
His smile grew. “Thank you. But please, call me Simon. We have enough history, I believe, between you and I, for you to call me by my Christian name.”
She grinned at him in return. “Indeed. Then you must call me Anna.”
He pressed his fingers into her stomach, causing her to flinch.
“My apologies. Did that pain you?”
Anna nodded. “Yes. A sharp pain through to my hip.”
“Have you experienced any other pains like this before?”
“A few, yes.”
“I see. And what of your breasts? Have you experienced any tenderness or pain?”
Anna blushed, but nodded. Personal questions, indeed!
His smile was warm. “You have no need to feel bashful with me, Anna. I have been trained by the very best and have helped many patients.”
She felt foolish. “I know.”
He stepped back and leaned a hip against a nearby table. “What of your menses? When was your last cycle?”
Her blush deepened. “I…” When had her last menses come? Her brow furrowed as she thought. “Goodness, I do not recall. I apologize. Will that affect your diagnosis?”
“Greatly, actually. But it is quite all right.” Simon put his tools back in his black bag, then assisted her to a sitting position.
“Do you know what is wrong with me?”
He gazed steadily at her, his mien solemn. “Nothing is wrong with you, Anna.”
“Then why—”
“You are with child. Nearly eight weeks along, I should say.”
Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened as shock tore through her. She was enceinte? How could she not have known? She had not paid close attention to her menses, though stress could have easily caused it. The thought of pregnancy had not crossed her mind over the past weeks, nor had it been a concern when she had decided to make love to Lane.
A baby! I am going to be a mother! Tears sprang to her eyes, then quickly spilled over her lashes. Oh heavens, a baby!
Simon approached her bedside and held a handkerchief out to her.
Anna gratefully accepted his offering, then dabbed at her eyes. He placed a warm, comforting hand on her back.
“In my experience as a physician, I have treated several women through the duration of their pregnancies, and delivered countless healthy babes. You will be well, Anna. And if you should wish for me to be your doctor throughout your pregnancy, I would be honoured to do so.”
Anna nodded. “Yes, thank you, Simon.”
“Many women have similar symptoms in their enceinte state.” She heard the smile in his voice. “One being a propensity for weeping.”
Anna let out a small, damp chuckle as she looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “What are some others?”
“Some women have intense cravings for bizarre foods.”
Anna crinkled her nose.
“Others,” he continued, “are repulsed by food they previously adored.”
“Well that is silly.” She smiled. “I shall never be rid of my proclivity for chocolate.”
Simon barked a laugh then patted her shoulder. “I will allow you to rest. Be sure to get some sleep, eat, and drink plenty of water. Baby needs you to stay healthy.” He winked. “I will come to see you again in a fortnight.” He sketched a quick bow and gathered his doctoring bag in one hand. “Take care of yourself, Anna.”
She returned his smile. “I will. Thank you, Simon.”<
br />
He made his way to the door, opened it, and paused to look back at her. “I want you to know, Anna, that you will always have a friend in me.”
More foolish tears seeped from her eyes at his kindness. “Likewise.”
Chapter 26
Major Charles Bradley paced his office as he awaited Dr. Claridge’s return. Was Anna well? Was it exhaustion, as she claimed? Or was it as he suspected? The anxiety clutching his chest was too much to be borne.
“Major Bradley?” Charles spun at the sound of Dr. Claridge’s voice.
“Please, come in, sit down.” Charles took his own seat, his gut roiling. “Would you care for a drink?” It was a question out of habit.
“No, thank you.” The doctor shifted in his chair. “You, however, may wish to partake.”
That made him pause. His heart faltered. Damnation. What news could the doctor bring that required Charles to imbibe before he heard it?
“What news have you? What is wrong with Anna?
The doctor winced. “There are two things which we must discuss. The first…” He heaved a gusty sigh. “It appears as though someone has attacked your sister.”
“Attacked?” Dread gripped him in its painful vice.
“Yes,” Dr. Claridge confirmed. “She is very nearly covered with bruising, both old and new. Some are scarcely discernable any longer, while others are dark and fresh.”
“Bruises?” Charles’ fists clenched upon his desk’s surface as anger began to bubble within him.
The doctor nodded. “She claims that she fell, but it is clear to me that they were made by a man’s hands.”
“Someone used force with Anna?”
“According to the formation of her bruises, yes.” He scratched at his chin. “There are several bruises along her upper arms that suggest rough handling. There is also a large bruise beginning to form on her left cheek, which tells me that she had been hit with someone’s right hand. She allowed me to give her a thorough inspection, and I discovered two more new bruises, one on her right hip and one on her thigh. Those would suggest that she had, indeed, fallen, most likely due to the blow to her cheek.”
Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) Page 17