Not Always a Saint

by Mary Jo Putney

“And medical treatment will sometimes make a condition worse.” His mouth twisted. “But often one doesn’t know if that’s the case until it’s too late.”

  She wondered how many times he’d guessed wrong about a treatment and still felt guilty about the results. Even once would be too often. “I see that it takes courage to be a doctor.”

  “Courage or arrogance,” he agreed with a self-deprecating smile.

  “Are you involved with the Sisters Foundation? Mariah and Lady Julia told me that your sister is a valuable part of the organization.”

  “Laurel and I worked together, but Zion House, the women’s sanctuary, was primarily hers,” he explained. “I supported it and provided medical treatment, of course. I also did the pastoral work. Counseling, baptism, funerals, and even some weddings.”

  His words were like a splash of ice water on the warmth that had been growing between them. This was a man she shouldn’t even be talking to. “You’re a vicar as well as everything else?” she said coldly. “I’m surprised you sleep at all. If you’ll excuse me, I want to meet Lady Agnes. I’ve heard so much about her.”

  She turned and walked away, but she could feel his gaze on her retreating back. With any luck, her rudeness would discourage him from pursuing a further acquaintance.

  But she feared she wouldn’t be so lucky. Not when so much unspoken tension had thrummed between them.

  After the guests left, Daniel, Laurel, and Kirkland settled in the drawing room to unwind and discuss the evening. Accepting a glass of claret from Kirkland, Daniel said, “Thank you for having this dinner party, Kirkland. It was a real pleasure to see so many old schoolmates. They all seem to be doing well.”

  Laurel laughed. “Once or twice I caught Lady Agnes surveying the room with the satisfied expression of a farmer pleased with her crops.”

  Both men joined her laughter. “She has every reason to be pleased,” Kirkland said. “In many cases her seed corn was unpromising.”

  “I think she succeeded because she was subversive,” Daniel said. “On the surface, she was giving us a good, aristocratic education, but her real lessons were on how to fit into society’s boxes while being true to ourselves. If not for her, I don’t think I would have pursued a medical career since my parents were dead set against it.”

  Kirkland smiled reminiscently as he settled on the sofa by Laurel, his left hand clasping hers. “My aristocratic English relatives wanted me to develop a proper distaste for trade and for my low Scottish mercantile relations. Lady Agnes confirmed my belief in the worth of both.”

  “Which helped you prosper in so many commercial areas.” Laurel smiled fondly at her husband. “The more money you make, the more I can plunder for my philanthropic projects.”

  “I live to be plundered by you, my love,” Kirkland said with a gleam in his eyes.

  To Daniel’s relief, Laurel did not pursue the point. Some things were better said in private, especially when a man’s sister was involved.

  Unfortunately, the topic she chose next was worse. Eying her brother, she remarked, “You seemed to enjoy talking to Lady Kelham.”

  He sipped his claret as he decided what to say. His feelings for the lady were too powerful and confused for discussion. “She’s the woman I saw at the rout that I thought I recognized.”

  “Oh? She didn’t look familiar to me, so probably not from the Bristol area.”

  “She’s from Kent. Perhaps I saw her in passing when I was at school.”

  Though he had trouble believing he could have seen her and not remembered. Hoping Laurel had learned more, he continued. “Lady Kelham is an intriguing woman. A new widow, I gather?”

  “Mariah said it’s only been a few weeks since her husband died,” Laurel said. “Apparently they were devoted to each other.”

  Daniel said lightly, as if the subject was of no importance, “If her loss is recent, she’s not likely to be interested in remarrying anytime soon. I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

  Laurel’s glance was shrewd. She knew him too well. “Actually, I believe she’s in London to discreetly look for a new husband.”

  “That’s rather sudden,” Daniel said, surprised. “But with her beauty, she won’t have any trouble securing wealth and a grander title.”

  “I’m sure she has her reasons for wanting to remarry so quickly.” A hint of reproach sounded in his sister’s voice. “And not necessarily obvious ones.”

  “I shouldn’t make assumptions,” Daniel said contritely. “But this proves that I’m not a prime marriage mart target, Kirkland, since it was clear that she had no interest in me. She couldn’t wait to get away.”

  “I’m told she wants to find a kind, reliable, older man,” Laurel said. “Which is how I learned all this. Julia told me what Lady Kelham wants so I could keep my eyes open for possibilities.”

  Daniel felt a wave of deep compassion. “She’ll never find a man who can be just like her husband. It’s a mistake to try.”

  “She probably knows that, but perhaps on some level she feels that she can only be happy with a man who is similar.” Kirkland looked thoughtful. “I only spoke with her briefly, but she seems intelligent and not easily known.” He sipped at his wine. “I’m told they’re calling her the Black Widow in the clubs.”

  Daniel frowned, feeling oddly protective of Lady Kelham. “Do they think she looks for rich old husbands so she can be widowed quickly?”

  “I’m told that a sprig from the mighty Howard tree with delusions of poetry wrote some drivel to the effect that she sprang unheralded from nowhere, and so great is her beauty that a man could die happy for having once held her in his arms,” Kirkland said wryly. “One of the caricaturists immediately drew a print illustrating her as an alluring black widow spider, if you can imagine. It’s in his shop window now.”

  “That’s revolting!” Laurel exclaimed. “And very quick. She hasn’t been in London for long at all.”

  “Lady Kelham is a woman who is always noticed.” Kirkland poured more claret. “She has my sympathies.”

  “Maybe that’s why she wants another husband,” Laurel speculated. “As protection against such harassment.”

  “Perhaps.” Daniel considered their interaction. Usually he was very good at reading people, but he didn’t know what to think of Lady Kelham. Jessie. She had seemed attracted to him at first and, realistically, he was prime husband material. Then she’d abruptly terminated what had been a mutually enjoyable conversation. Apparently she didn’t like vicars, but her reaction had been extreme. “I have a feeling that her life has been more complicated than merely growing up in Kent and marrying a local man.”

  “Do you want me to see what more I can learn about her?” Kirkland offered. “Unlike Aphrodite, she can’t have sprung full grown from nowhere.”

  Daniel hesitated. “I’ll admit I’m curious about her, but I don’t like asking you to use your special talents to spy on her.”

  “You might as well ask,” Kirkland said with amusement. “Everyone else does.”

  Daniel laughed. “Very well, then. I still have the feeling that we’ve met before, and I’m curious.”

  “I’ll see what I can learn.”

  Daniel nodded, then firmly turned his mind away from the lady in black. “Does your London women’s sanctuary need a doctor a few days a week? I’m feeling restless.”

  “I’ll ask Julia. I’m sure she’ll welcome the offer.”

  “Good. I’m not cut out to be a gentleman of leisure.” Any more than he was cut out to be a lord.

  That night, the Black Widow came to bed with Daniel. His mind churned with visions of her lithe, feminine figure. He wanted to peel away her mourning black so he could see every glorious inch of her. He wanted to kiss her until they were both gasping for breath, yet unwilling to separate even for a moment. He wanted her to raise her arms and draw him close so they could join, body and soul....

  He woke gasping and sweaty, feeling a sinner’s guilt without a sinner’s satisfaction. He
was no innocent. He’d spent his life working on human bodies, knew a great deal about how they worked, had heard all kinds of confessions and questions from patients. Yet now he was at the mercy of raw desire.

  Closing his eyes, he relaxed his muscles one by one, starting with his forehead and working his way down his body to his toes. The exercise relaxed both body and mind to the point that he could pray. He couldn’t pray for deliverance from his desires, because he didn’t want to be free of them. But he could pray for the best possible outcome for himself and the woman who was becoming his obsession.

  He was human enough to want that outcome to bring them together—and rational enough to recognize that might be a disaster for them both.

  Chapter 10

  Daniel and Kirkland were greeted with rippling music when they returned to Kirkland House after a long session with lawyers on an unseasonably warm day. Wordlessly they both climbed the stairs to the music room. Laurel glanced up from the piano without interrupting the liquid grace of her dancing fingers. “You both look rather limp. Is that from the weather or your ordeal by lawyer?”

  As Kirkland brushed a kiss on his wife’s head, Daniel said wryly, “Both. I would have bolted if Kirkland hadn’t been there to block my escape. But Mr. Hyatt seems very capable. He has the legalities for confirming me in the barony well in hand, and informed me that our eccentric cousin Romayne left a substantial estate and fortune.”

  Laurel reached up and caught her husband’s hand affectionately. “Since you’re unable to escape the barony, it’s good the finances are solid. Less work for you.”

  “And all boring.” Daniel repressed a sigh. “I need to visit the Romayne seat and some smaller properties as well.”

  “Here’s something you’ll like better,” his sister said. “Lady Julia is very enthusiastic about your request to work at the London shelter. When can you start?”

  “Today!” he said promptly. “Though tomorrow would be more sensible.”

  “Let’s go over to Gunter’s to celebrate,” Laurel suggested. “Their ices are perfect for a warm day like this one.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “This would be the Gunter’s from which you and your maid were kidnapped?”

  “It was only the one time,” Laurel said with a laugh as she rose to her feet. “And the ices are divine. I’m particularly fond of the neroli flavor.”

  Kirkland offered her his arm, and the three of them headed downstairs and out into Berkeley Square. The large townhouses were built around a sizable treed park, and Gunter’s was one of several shops on the other side. Daniel hadn’t had time to venture into the square, but the grass and the shade cast by the tall plane trees were welcome.

  As they approached the opposite side of the park, he saw that a number of fashionable carriages were parked along the street. Ladies ate inside the vehicles while their male escorts leaned casually against the railings as they ate ices from small bowls. A pair of waiters moved across the road to take and deliver orders, and several children were on the grass, eating or playing. Daniel smiled. “It looks rather like a village fair.”

  “Only better dressed.” Laurel shaded her eyes with one hand as she studied the carriages. “There’s an Ashton House coach, I see. I imagine they also felt the need for cool refreshments.”

  Daniel went on alert. There was the carriage, and he saw that the Duchess of Ashton, Lady Julia Randall, and Lady Kelham had chosen to get out and stretch their legs rather than sit inside. “Then we must say hello.”

  “Of course.” Laurel’s voice was demure, but she gave him an amused glance. “We must be polite. Especially to Lady Kelham.”

  “I never could fool you,” he said ruefully.

  “I’m glad you’ve found a woman who takes your fancy,” his sister said softly. “You need to become better acquainted.”

  “I’ll try. I’m not sure if she’s willing.” Nor was he sure that it was wise.

  As he spoke, the Ashton House party noticed them approaching. The duchess waved cheerfully, and the other two women turned as well.

  Lady Julia smiled a welcome, but Lady Kelham gave a cool nod before turning to follow a small girl child across the grass. The child was applying herself industriously to a bowl of ice as she walked. Daniel hadn’t known that Lady Kelham had a daughter, but this girl must be hers. Though her hair was lighter, her exquisite features mirrored those of her beautiful mother.

  The night before he’d heard that Lady Kelham’s given name was Jessie. He found himself calling her that mentally since it suited her. Despite the lady’s coolness, he’d taken heart from Laurel’s information that Jessie wanted another husband. Even though his rational mind said she was not the kind of woman he needed, he wanted to know her better to be sure. Maybe they were less different than he thought. A man could hope.

  He ambled toward Jessie and the little girl. Raising his voice a little, he said, “Good day, Lady Kelham. I’ve been brought here to experience the wonders of Gunter’s ices. I gather your hostesses decided you also needed to experience them?”

  She couldn’t courteously ignore him, so she paused and turned to reply. “I think Mariah and Julia were using me and my daughter as an excuse to stop by.”

  “May I be introduced to the young lady?”

  He saw Jessie’s hesitation, but it wasn’t an unreasonable question. “Lord Romayne, allow me to present my daughter, Elizabeth, Lady Kelham. Beth, this is Lord Romayne.”

  As the little girl turned with her bowl in one hand and spoon in the other, he saw that Jessie was waiting for him to express shock or disbelief. There was only one way the child could hold such a title, and that was as heiress to a very ancient barony. Such things were rare, but not impossible.

  He bowed deeply. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your ladyship. Is it confusing to have two Lady Kelhams in the house?”

  The child giggled, a smear of bright pink ice on her lower lip. “I’m really Beth,” she explained. “Are you a friend of my mama?”

  “Not yet, but I hope to be.”

  “Then perhaps we shall meet again.” She bobbed a very proper curtsy without dropping either bowl or spoon before her attention was caught by a yellow butterfly and she drifted after it as she took dainty little bites of her rapidly melting ice.

  “I think one reason people have children is because responsible adults often need an excuse for pleasure.” His gaze followed Beth as she drifted happily along the grass. “Children are far better at accepting joy.”

  “I don’t ever remember being that young,” she said wistfully.

  “I’m not sure I do either,” he admitted. “I see joy in children, but they don’t recognize it themselves because they’re busy being joyful.”

  “Living in the moment. Not worrying about health or safety or grief or loss . . .”

  Her voice trailed off, and he guessed she was thinking of her late husband. Wanting to turn her to happier thoughts, he said, “You have a beautiful daughter. Though her coloring is different, she looks very like you.”

  “Her father had that same toffee-colored hair when he was young. By the time I met him, his hair was silver, and he was all the more handsome for it.” She smiled at her playful child, and it was the first real smile he’d seen on her face. Breathtaking.

  Would she ever smile at him with unreserved happiness? She might look dangerously mysterious and beautiful, but her love for her daughter was unmistakable.

  He was about to say something inane because his wit vanished when he was around her, but his attention was jerked to a thunder of hooves. Horses traveling much too fast for this part of the city.

  A fashionable curricle drawn by two sleek chestnuts harnessed in tandem burst from Bruton Street and swung around the corner onto Berkeley at a dangerous speed. The young driver wore the multi-caped cloak of a professional coachman, but that was mere affectation because his driving was disastrous. As he struggled to slow his horses to avoid plowing into the crowd of Gunter’s customers, he lost control
and the curricle careened wildly onto the grass of the park.

  The vehicle skidded onto two wheels—and headed for little Beth Kelham like a cannonball. Jessie screamed and darted toward her daughter. Dear God, she was putting herself in harm’s way with no chance of saving Beth!

  Other screams sounded as people scattered out of the path of the oncoming carriage. Kirkland swept Laurel back behind a plane tree and the Ashton ladies dodged behind their heavy coach.

  Without conscious thought, Daniel raced after Jessie, calculating speed and angles. His longer legs covered the ground much faster than hers and he reached Jessie just as she caught up to Beth, but the lead horse was only yards away. With his left arm he scooped up the child as his right arm locked around Jessie’s waist. Using his momentum, he spun away to the left, wrenching all three of them from the path of the onrushing horses.

  As he hit the ground rolling away from the road, hooves smashed down inches away and chunks of turf pelted him. He wrapped himself protectively around mother and child till he came to a sliding halt with Jessie sprawled on top of him. His right arm was still wrapped around her waist and Beth was tucked under his left arm.

  The curricle swung wildly into a plane tree, sending the driver flying and jerking the horses to a panicked stop. But Daniel was barely aware of that because all his attention was on Jessie, whose shocked eyes were mere inches away. Her legs bracketed his and her soft breasts and hips pressed against him with shocking intimacy.

  Time was suspended. The fear and rush to save Beth and Jessie were transmuted into a fierce, unexpected arousal that blazed through every fiber of his being. Shockingly, there was a startled response in Jessie’s eyes as if her body recognized and craved his, too. He wanted to meld with her, bury himself in her irresistible femininity. . . .

  The mad moment shattered when Beth began to wail with distress. Jessie shoved away from Daniel and reached for her daughter. “Beth!”

  Daniel’s fears for the child evaporated when she wailed, “Mama! My ice dish fell and broke! I wasn’t finished!”