Not Always a Saint

by Mary Jo Putney

His life was about to change drastically. But with Jessie part of it, he was now contemplating his future with anticipation, not dread. Where they’d spend most of their time would be the biggest challenge since Jessie had responsibilities in Kent as he did in Bristol. Not to mention Castle Romayne.

  He’d have to establish an infirmary or cottage hospital in each place where he’d spend much time. Most towns and villages needed better medical facilities, so doing that would be a good deed as well as giving him a place to work when he was in residence. The idea was absurd, possible, and invigorating.

  After an hour or two of pacing and a second glass of claret, he was relaxed enough to consider going to bed. Yet after years of being a doctor, he wasn’t surprised when a quiet knock sounded on the door. He opened it to find Kirkland, still fully dressed. “Is Laurel unwell?” Daniel asked immediately.

  “She’s fine, but some midnight medicine is required if you’re not too distracted.”

  “Of course.” Daniel reached for his coat. “Where?”

  “The patient is here in our kitchen.”

  “Convenient.” Daniel changed his aim from his coat to his medical bag. “How fortunate I am that my brother-in-law lays on medical amusements for the entertainment of his guests. How serious is it?”

  “A bullet in the upper arm. Not life-threatening if it doesn’t become inflamed, but it needs treatment.”

  “Do you regularly have wounded men in your kitchen?”

  “Not regularly, but it’s not unknown.” Kirkland led the way down the back stairs to the kitchen. The room was well-lit and a kettle was steaming on the hob. A man with white-blond hair was slumped over in a chair by the scrubbed deal table. His coat had been tossed over another chair and his left shirt sleeve was saturated with blood. A crude bandage had been tied around his upper arm.

  Daniel’s pace quickened as he crossed the kitchen. The man looked up. He was pale under a tanned complexion, and he had a familiar face. Kirkland said, “I think you’ll remember Captain Gordon, though under another name.”

  Lady Agnes’s one failure, alive and relatively well in Kirkland’s kitchen. This was possibly the most interesting day of Daniel’s life, though he much preferred Jessie’s company to Gordon’s. “Gordon is actually one of your long string of names, isn’t it?” He set his medical bag on the table and pulled out a pair of sharp-edged scissors. “I assumed that if I ever saw you again, it would be on the gallows, but a bullet wound will do.”

  Gordon gave a crack of laughter. “Trust you to remember all those names, Herbert. Kirkland says you’re Romayne now. Now you can be righteous on a larger scale. At school, you did your best to treat me with Christian forbearance while I did my best to make you lose your temper and behave badly.”

  “Kirkland, I need two basins, one filled with warm water and the other empty. Then some clean rags or towels and some brandy.” Daniel carefully cut off the rough bandage. “You didn’t quite manage that, Gordon, but you came close. Dare I ask how you came to be here?”

  “A while back I ran into our noble schoolmate, the Duke of Ashton, which gave him an opportunity to practice charity.” Gordon gasped as the bandage was peeled away.

  “By which he means Ashton made him captain of his latest steamship, the Britannia,” Kirkland said dryly as he poured boiling water into a teapot. “A fact for which I’m very grateful.”

  Gordon shrugged, then winced at the pain. “I know a fair bit of engineering and have some seagoing experience. It’s not a common pair of skills, so I took charge of the ship until he found a better qualified captain.”

  Kirkland’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Ashton said he wanted you to stay, but you told him you preferred working alone rather than having to give orders to a crew of scurvy, worthless sailors.”

  “That, too,” Gordon muttered as Daniel cut away the shirt sleeve.

  Kirkland set the basins and a short stack of clean clothes on the table by the medical bag. The speed with which he produced them suggested that this might not be the first time the kitchen had been used as an infirmary.

  Daniel washed the entrance to the wound, which was still seeping blood. “The ball missed the bone, which is good, but it’s still in your arm, which is not so good. It shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, but it will hurt. Is that tea ready? A cup of it with sizable amounts of sugar and brandy will help.”

  “That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all night.” With his free hand, Gordon accepted the steaming mug Kirkland prepared and swallowed deeply. He screwed his eyes shut as Daniel probed for the lead ball.

  The ball wasn’t hard to find, but it took several attempts to wrench it out. As Daniel clinked it into the basin holding the bloody rags, he asked conversationally, “How did you end up here with a pistol ball in your arm?”

  Since Gordon’s eyes were closed and his face was beaded with sweat, Kirkland answered. “He’s been doing some work for me. It has the advantage of allowing him to work alone, and the disadvantage of sometimes being dangerous.”

  “I got the job done, didn’t I?” Gordon snapped.

  “Indeed you did, and you’ll be well compensated,” Kirkland replied. “If you need any discreet investigations done, Daniel, Gordon is your man.”

  “Oddly enough, that isn’t something I usually need. Hang on, this is going to hurt even more.” He pulled a flask of gin from his bag and began thoroughly cleaning the wound. Gordon flinched but didn’t make a sound.

  As Daniel bandaged the arm again, he said, “I’ll fashion a sling for you. Take it easy, and change the dressing every couple of days.”

  Gordon nodded understanding. “Thanks, Doc. I owe you.”

  Daniel shrugged as he began cleaning his instruments. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t keep score.”

  “I do.” Gordon’s gray eyes glinted like steel.

  “Some of my patients pay in chickens. Or maybe a nice bag of potatoes or apples,” Daniel suggested, amused.

  Gordon’s only reply was a snort. He was sagging and white faced, but on the whole, he’d been lucky. If the bullet had struck a few inches to one side, it would have hit his heart.

  As Kirkland helped Gordon to his feet, Daniel was struck with the thought that now that he was going to marry Jessie, he might need the services of a discreet investigator. No, she might not have told him everything, but she’d revealed the important facts about her past.

  At least, he thought she had.

  Jessie’s friends were delighted by her betrothal to Lord Romayne. She suspected that his friends were less pleased by the news.

  She had her own doubts as she tried to sleep later that night. She’d kept her distance from Daniel to keep him from knowing too much about her. Her reasons were still powerful, and marrying him put her onto very thin ice. But he’d accepted the portion of truth she’d offered, and perhaps that would be enough. She hoped so, since that distant past had nothing to do with the woman she’d become.

  As she tossed and turned, she told herself that in time they’d grow closer. That might soften his judgment if the whole truth came out. Too late to change her mind . . .

  Morning came too early. When Lily brought Beth down to share breakfast in Jessie’s rooms, the little girl’s bright cheerfulness made Jessie feel old. Philip had also been an early riser, which proved that even he wasn’t a perfect husband.

  Food and strong tea revived her. As Jessie spread marmalade on Beth’s toast, she said, “This morning we’re going on a drive with Lord Romayne. Remember him, from Gunter’s?”

  Beth frowned. “The man who broke my dish of ice before I finished.”

  “He also saved you from being crushed by that carriage,” Jessie reminded her. “And you did get a replacement ice from the duchess.”

  “Mmmmmm.” Mollified, Beth accepted the marmalade toast.

  Jessie considered telling her daughter that she was going to marry the gentleman in question, then decided to wait for Daniel so they could present a united front.

/>   They had just finished breakfast when a footman came to announce that Lord Romayne had arrived. Pulse accelerating, Jessie washed marmalade from her daughter’s cheek, helped her into a handsome new green velvet cloak, then led her downstairs.

  Daniel bowed when they entered the small salon. He’d given up mourning black in favor of a dark navy coat and buckskins, and he looked quite appallingly handsome. “Lady Kelham and Lady Kelham,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to see you both.”

  Beth giggled. Being called Lady Kelham still seemed more game than reality. She dropped a neat little curtsy. “Mama said you’re taking us for a drive?”

  “Indeed, I am, and the weather is very pleasant.” He had the gift of speaking as directly to a child as to an adult. “I thought we could go to the park and feed the ducks.”

  “Oh, yes!”

  Daniel’s glance at Jessie silently asked if Beth had been informed of their plans yet. She gave a small shake of her head. It was time now. “Beth, besides a drive, we have a surprise for you,” she said. “Lord Romayne and I are going to get married, so you’ll have a new father.”

  Beth’s small jaw dropped. “I have a father!”

  Daniel went down on one knee in front of Beth so he wasn’t looming over her. “Yes, and he loved you very much. He’ll always be with you in your heart.” He touched a gentle finger to the middle of Beth’s chest. “But when a father can’t stay, sometimes he sends a stepfather to look out for his child. It’s a great honor for me that your mother is willing to accept me as your stepfather.”

  Frowning, Beth retreated and took Jessie’s hand. Judging that it would be best not to give Beth time to brood, Jessie said, “Now it’s time for that drive.”

  Beth retained her grip on Jessie’s hand, regarding Daniel warily. He was relaxed, not trying to ingratiate himself, as he held the door and guided them outside.

  He had a handsome curricle with a liveried groom perched on the back. Courtesy of Kirkland, Jessie guessed. She and Daniel were fortunate in their friends.

  Jessie helped Beth into the carriage; then Daniel assisted Jessie. The bench seat was wide enough for all three of them, but Beth climbed into Jessie’s lap, her expression wary. Daniel swung up into the curricle, then produced a folded blanket from behind the seat. “The sunshine is lovely, but the air is brisk so we can use this blanket.”

  “Like a cocoon with three butterflies,” Jessie observed as she tucked the blanket over herself and her daughter. Beth giggled at that.

  After they were settled in, Daniel expertly guided the curricle from the Ashton House grounds and along the street to Hyde Park. As they passed other vehicles, he asked casually, “Beth, do you like horses?”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “I’m Lady Kelham. If you call me Beth, I should call you by your given name.”

  “Beth!” Jessie said reprovingly. Sometimes her clever little daughter was just too precocious.

  Daniel only laughed. “That’s fair. My name is Daniel. You may call me that if I am permitted to call you Beth.”

  Beth gave a victorious nod. “I shall permit it, Daniel.”

  “Thank you. Now, about horses . . .”

  “I love horses!” Beth straightened up alertly in Jessie’s lap. “I want a pony, but Mama won’t let me.” It was an old grievance.

  “A pony might be too strong for you now,” he said, “but perhaps later?”

  Jessie said, “When you’re older and larger, Beth.”

  “I’m older and larger today than I was when we came to London!” Beth said with irrefutable logic.

  “And you’ll be older and larger again tomorrow,” Daniel said equably. “Your mama will decide when you’re ready. What kind of pony would you like?”

  “Nice,” she said decisively.

  “Would you like a bay like that fine fellow there?” He gestured with his whip.

  “A chestnut.” Beth wriggled off Jessie’s lap into the space between the two adults. “Or gray. Not a bay.”

  “My first pony was a chestnut,” Daniel said. “He had two white socks and a blaze on his forehead.”

  “What was his name?” Beth demanded.

  “Rascal. He had a bit of mischief in him, but he was a grand pony,” Daniel said nostalgically.

  “Did he die?”

  “Yes, but not for many, many years. I outgrew him and then he became my sister’s pony.”

  “I’d like a sister,” Beth said thoughtfully.

  “That is one of the advantages of your mother and I marrying.” Daniel glanced at Jessie with heat in his eyes. “You may well get a little brother or sister.”

  “I want a sister, not a brother!”

  “We don’t get to choose, darling,” Jessie said, impressed at how quickly Daniel was winning her daughter over. “But as the oldest, you would rule the nursery until you became a young lady and left any brothers or sisters behind.”

  Beth clearly liked the idea of that. Jessie would have enjoyed having a sister. Mariah and Julia had showed her how splendid sisters could be. Women often disliked Jessie, perhaps fearing she would try to lure their husbands away. It was wonderful to be with women who were secure enough in themselves and their marriages that they didn’t regard Jessie as a threat.

  She’d loved Philip and their quiet country life, but now her life was opening up in numerous ways. She couldn’t decide if she was more excited or alarmed.

  Chapter 18

  They entered Hyde Park and Daniel drove along to the Serpentine, the long, curved lake that was one of the park’s chief features. When the road was at its closest approach to the water, he halted the curricle and climbed out, passing the reins to the groom who’d been riding on the back of the vehicle.

  He asked Beth, “Would you like to fly like a duck?”

  “Yes!”

  “Fly, little duck, fly!” He caught her around the waist and swooped her twice around before setting her on the ground. She squeaked with pleasure.

  With Jessie, Daniel took more time, gazing into her eyes and clasping her hand warmly as he helped her to the ground. She smiled. “I can see you’re well experienced with small people.”

  “Practice. When a child has fallen and gashed his head and is bleeding copiously, a certain tact is required.” He reached behind the curricle seat and produced a small canvas bag, then left the groom to walk the horses back and forth to keep them from cooling off. “Now for the ducks!” he announced as he handed the bag to Beth. “There are pieces of bread in here for them and any swans who might come by.”

  “Quack!” Beth took off for the lake as fast as her short legs would carry her.

  “Your daughter may have a future as a racehorse,” Daniel observed.

  Jessie laughed as she took Daniel’s arm and they followed Beth at a more sedate pace. “At some point, I’ll need to explain the concept of ‘ladylike’ to her, but I hate to quell all that exuberance.”

  “I’m sure she can become a charmingly exuberant young lady.” He chuckled. “But it won’t happen overnight.”

  Walking along the edge of the water was a blond girl about Beth’s age, accompanied by a young woman dressed as a nursemaid. Beth trotted up to the other girl and produced a handful of bread chunks from her bag. “I am Beth, Lady Kelham. Would you like to help me feed the ducks?”

  The blond girl brightened. “I am Lady Lydia Hambly, and yes!” She belatedly glanced at her nurse for permission. “Please?”

  The nurse studied Jessie and Daniel as she considered. Then the two women exchanged a nod of mutual approval. “You may, Lady Lydia.”

  As the nurse settled on a bench to watch, the chattering girls scooted to the water’s edge and started tearing the chunks of bread into small pieces. Lady Lydia tossed her bread one piece at a time while Beth inclined to flinging several pieces at once. Ducks seemed to appear out of nowhere, quacking in a gathering throng.

  “The girls both have a nice sense of equity,” Daniel observed. “See how they try to make sure that all the d
ucks get some bread?”

  “Beth always wants to share with other children.” Jessie chuckled. “It looked as if she and Lady Lydia may be striking up a lifelong friendship here. I think Beth will make a wonderful big sister when the time comes.”

  Daniel looked down at her, and she was suddenly, acutely aware of just how that new sibling would be created. Blushing, she said, “We were going to discuss practicalities this morning, weren’t we?”

  “Ducks and practicalities,” Daniel agreed. “This afternoon I’ll go to Doctors Commons for a special license. I’ll need your full name and your place of birth. Is Jessie your Christian name, or is it a nickname for Jessica or Jessamine or Janet?”

  Jessie sighed, some of her good humor fading. “It’s short for Jezebel.”

  “Seriously?” Daniel said, shocked.

  “I told you my father hated females. Jezebel, the wicked woman who tried to turn her devout husband from the true God,” she said bitterly. “The name is inscribed right there in the family Bible.”

  “Jezebel also means ‘princess,’ ” Daniel said quietly as he rested his hand over hers where she clasped his arm. “That suits you much better.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed hard, thinking that she’d wanted a husband who was kind, and she had found one.

  “Given your feelings about your father, would you be willing to marry in a church, or would you prefer a private ceremony?” he asked. “With a special license, we can marry when and where we wish.”

  She hesitated. Her father had made her deeply wary of the Church, but kindness worked both ways. She suspected that marrying in a church would matter more to Daniel than not marrying in one would matter to her. “As long as you and our friends are present, a church is a fine and proper place to wed.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled apologetically. “It wouldn’t seem real to me if we were married in a parlor.”

  Her first wedding had been in a parlor, her second in a church. The second marriage had worked much better. Maybe that was an endorsement of church weddings.

  “You’ll need my married names as well as my birth name.” She didn’t like revealing so much of her past, even to Daniel. But this was her third marriage with a special license, so she was something of an expert. My full legal name is Jezebel Elizabeth Braxton Trevane Kelham. I’d better write that all down for you.”