“Oh, Joseph…” I whispered, locking my ankles around his waist. “I missed you.”
He kissed my neck, nipping at the delicate skin near my collarbone. “I’ve ached to be inside you, Audrey.”
I arched my body against his. “I want you…”
He teased my slit for a moment, and then with a firm shove, thrust himself deep inside me. A low moan escaped his lips, and his hands gripped me tighter as he slammed into me again. I clutched at his back, my body weightless, floating, my release almost immediate as he pounded me fast, up and deep.
“Audrey…Oh, my love, my darling…”
I love you.
I wanted to say it, but only a sharp cry escaped my lips as he came within me in one hard thrust. And then another. He filled me, spilling over onto my thighs. I gasped, shuddering around him, my limbs weak and numb with his beautiful onslaught.
He clutched me tight and whirled me around, his laughter a joyous sound ringing out as he slipped out of me and sat down on the couch, folding me in his lap. I nuzzled his neck, cherishing these stolen moments together. We had only hours now. Minutes. Seconds. One last kiss, one last embrace.
“Oh, Audrey,” he whispered, his hand smoothing my hair from my cheek. “I have something to tell you. Something wonderful has happened.”
I stared up into his dark brown eyes, my throat closing up again. “I have something to tell you too.”
He took my hand and held it over his heart. “I cannot wait. Lord Aberthorne, you see, in light of recent events. He…” He chuckled beneath his breath and shook his head. “My goodness, I am mere seconds from making love to you, and I cannot even get the words out, I feel like such a schoolboy.”
I sat up. “What is it?”
His eyes danced, crinkling at the edges. “Lord Aberthorne has recommended me for a lordship. To reward me for saving his life.”
I blinked rapidly, contorting my face to keep from crying. “Oh, Joseph that is wonderful.”
His fingers tightened over my hand. “Audrey, don’t you see? I will be a lord, and that comes with notoriety. It will open doors for me, and I—” He paused, his face falling.
I swallowed hard, turning away from him and standing up to rearrange my dress. The floor seemed to fall from beneath me, and I grasped onto the side of the sofa, trying to retain my balance.
“I…I thought you would be happy for me,” he said in a small voice.
I kept my back to him, fearful if I turned around, my heart would shatter. “I am so happy for you, Joseph.”
“Lord Aberthorne has offered me a position as his personal physician. I could continue my work with inoculation, but the stipend would be considerable. And in time, my practice will grow. I will never be a wealthy lord, but…” he coughed, his voice straining. I heard him shifting from the sofa, placing his clothing back in order. “Audrey, please look at me.”
I shook my head, cupping my elbows in my palms.
“My love, my darling…” He placed a tentative hand on my shoulder, and I skirted away, stationing myself in front of the window. A dozen gardeners worked below, clearing out beds for summer. Joseph leaned against the wall, and the heat of his gaze seared the side of my face.
“Tell me what is wrong,” he said in a dangerous voice, as if whatever ailed me were some sickness he could cure. If only things were so simple.
“It is truly wonderful news, Joseph. I know you will find some beautiful woman with whom to share all your achievements.”
A deep silence filled my ears, and it seemed an age before Joseph spoke again.
“Perhaps I have equivocated, Miss Byrnes,” he said. “I had hoped that beautiful woman would be you.”
I shook my head, my fingernails digging into my skin.
“I know you are worried about your family, but I assure you I can take care of them.” His voice rose. “I can take care of you. I swear it.”
“No, Joseph.”
“I see.” He backed away, letting out a disgusted sound. “It is truly a shame I was not an actual sultan. Maybe then you would be satisfied. Is that what you want? Wealth? Power? Fame?”
“That’s not—”
“Then why? I can provide for you. You can write all day for all I care. I want you to be happy.”
“I…I know, Joseph.”
“Then please, tell me what it is. Tell me, and I will never entreat you again. I cannot walk away without understanding why, given the depth of our feeling for one another, you would cast me off so finally.”
“I am to be engaged to Lord Castlevane,” I blurted out. The words tasted vile in my mouth, acrid and metallic, as if I had vomited them.
“Castlevane? But…but you hate the man!”
I took a deep breath, willing my body to become stone, my voice to become steel. Joseph couldn’t know about the scandal involving my sister, and he certainly could not know of Castlevane’s interests in sabotaging his inoculation program. He would do something rash, and no lordship Lord Aberthorne could ever supply would be able to protect him from Castlevane’s wrath.
“Feelings can change.”
Joseph paced behind me. “Feelings can change? He killed your fiancé.”
“I know.”
“He is ruthless and despicable.”
“Yes.”
“He does not respect you or your writing.”
“Perhaps.”
He paused behind me, grabbed onto my arm and whirled me around. “This is about your father, isn’t it? Is he forcing you into this marriage?”
I stared up into Joseph’s perfect face, now twisted with barely repressed rage. His shoulders trembled, and his jaw strained as he ground his teeth. His breathing came out in ragged gasps, and I found my resolve melting, desiring nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and smother him with a hundred kisses. I had never seen such anger from Joseph. Steady, patient, constant Joseph. But the man standing before me looked like he was drowning, fighting a losing battle against an overwhelming tide. I wrenched my arm away, unable to save him.
“I assure you I am not being forced into this marriage,” I said.
He stepped away, throwing his arms in the air. “I see then. Very well.”
“I am so…sorry.”
“Right. Well.” His face smoothed over, and he stared at me as he had when I was his patient, so long ago. In control, aloof, hyper-focused. “I hope Lord Castlevane will cherish you, Miss Byrnes. I am sure you will have a lovely life together.”
He darted for the door and slammed it so hard behind him, the walls rattled.
I shuddered at the sound, grasping onto the heavy drapes to keep from crumpling to my knees. Outside a steady rain began to fall, peppering the slate flagstones until the water collected and turned them an oily shade of black. The gardeners gathered their tools and ambled back beyond the house, abandoning the overturned earth to the storm. The exposed dirt turned to deep mud puddles, the spring shower flooding everything. I wished I could slip below the dark surface and let the soil fill my nostrils, my ears, my eyes. I wanted to sink beneath this horrible place so overcrowded with such horrible people. Forget my past. My future. Forget Joseph. But every halting breath reminded me of all the lonely seconds of my life yet to come. Lonely hours, days. Every breath without him in my arms, an eternity. There was no way out, and I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and closed my eyes, listening to the steady rolls of thunder echo across the hills, the dark sound growing louder and louder, punctuating the deluge of rain pouring from the sky.
Chapter 23
Joseph
I sat through dinner like a ghost, spooning food into my mouth mechanically. Lady Aberthorne chatted beside me, and I nodded in the appropriate places, giving positive utterances of affirmation when she paused. The whole time I could not even meet Audrey’s gaze, but sometimes I sneaked glances at her, studying her red-rimmed eyes, her drawn face. She pushed her dinner around her plate, but did not eat a thing.
Her father had spent the entir
e evening talking with Lord Castlevane, undoubtedly inwardly calculating how best he could spend the man’s fortune. When he clinked his spoon against his wine glass and stood up, my stomach twisted into a tight knot, and I leaned back in my chair with a deep breath. Across the table, Audrey’s face paled, and her lips trembled as her father announced her engagement with Castlevane. Lady Aberthorne let out an audible gasp, but breeding allowed her to recover quickly, uttering a measured congratulations. Patrick Byrnes prattled on about their wedding plans as if he were the groom, himself, but the whole time Lady Aberthorne flashed me pointed stares, her eyes glancing between Audrey and me. As for Castlevane’s future bride, she sat staring at her hands folded in her lap.
I wanted to hate her.
Good lord, how I wanted to hate her, but one thing I knew about Audrey is while she made her meagre living telling tales, the greatest story she ever told was the one she told herself, as thick as that velvet mantle she wore. She was marrying Castlevane for money, that I knew for sure, but I also knew there was something she was not telling me. Perhaps I wanted there to be more to Audrey Byrnes. Perhaps I had always wanted that with her. Perhaps she really was a grasping gold digger from Dublin, content with whiling her time away with common men like me until her ship came in—or until fortune or lack thereof forced her to set sail. Castlevane was no better or worse than any other wealthy peer, I supposed. She sought out the low-hanging fruit, maybe so she could get back to writing her novels, taking care of her family, and finding some new young man to toy with and fulfill all her romantic desires on the side. Marriage to a rich lord could provide her with freedom I could never grant her. She would be as free as Lady Elliot to pursue her own little romantic affairs, and she could do it with the finest carriages, in the greatest Parisian fashions.
“Dr. Moorland.”
I glanced over my shoulder and blinked, the footman hovering behind me coming into focus. His wide eyes were clouded with panic, and a thin line of sweat beaded on his top lip.
“It’s Lord Aberthorne.”
Lady Aberthorne gave me a stricken stare, and both of us quit the table without a word, following the young man down the hall. The marchioness had hired two nurses to keep watch on her husband and change his dressings, and I had taught them to use the antiseptic to clean their hands. If infection had settled in, I wasn’t sure I could reverse it. I clenched my fists to keep them from shaking as we turned the corner.
“Is he feverish? Is the wound inflamed?” I said, my voice wavering.
The footman shook his head. “No…it’s—I don’t know. He’s complaining of pain in his stomach, and—”
I bolted down the hall, Lord Aberthorne’s moans growing louder as I reached his door and barreled inside, throwing my coat to the floor and rolling up my sleeves.
He was drenched in sweat, his sheets tangled up between his legs as he writhed on the bed, his arms clutched around his abdomen.
I glanced at the nurse at his side, futilely trying to wipe a warm cloth across his forehead. “What happened?”
Her brow knitted and she shook her head. “I don’t know. He started clutching at his stomach and he—”
She bit her lip and nodded toward the sheet where the other nurse was trying to clear up a mess of shit and blood. I brought my fingers to my temple, my thoughts racing. An abdominal aneurysm had nothing to do with the stomach or intestines unless I had somehow nicked one of his organs. But that was not possible. The surgery had been rushed, but I would have known immediately if my hand had slipped. I waved the nurse away and placed my hand against his forehead. He felt clammy, but not warm. No fever, so it could not be infection. Could it?
He looked up at me, his face contorted in pain. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead a shower of vomit erupted from his throat, the nurse hurriedly trying to collect his sick in a bedpan. He heaved again and sighed, the young woman wiping at the side of his mouth as he leaned back against the bed.
“What is wrong with him?” Lady Aberthorne had appeared at my side, her fingers bruising my arm.
I ignored her, my mind still whirring. Snapping at the nurse to clean up the sheets, I pulled at my patient’s nightshirt, studying the stitches. I expected to find them red and inflamed, but they felt cool, the skin beneath the black thread puckered and pale pink with beautifully healing flesh beneath. It had to be internal. Flux and vomiting usually accompanied a fever when it came to infection, but not always, Dr. Jenner had said. Surgery was a developing field. So many things we did not understand.
“What is wrong with him?”
The level of hysteria in Lady Aberthone’s voice snapped me back to attention, and I turned to her with a long exhale.
“I don’t know.”
Her mouth gaped open. “What do you mean you don’t know? You cut open my husband. You took out his insides and did something irrevocable to his body. You better damn well know what is wrong with him.”
I bowed my head and bit my lip. “Lady Aberthorne, sometimes in surgery, wounds can fester internally. We do not always know—”
She pointed at him. “Fix him, or you are finished.”
Pressing her palm to her eyes, she stormed out of the room, shouting instructions to the servants. I perched on a chair beside Lord Aberthorne, replaying the entire surgery in my mind. But his pained cries drowned out my thoughts, and I could only stare in helplessness as the sickness took hold of his body.
Chapter 24
Joseph
Sometime after midnight, Lord Aberthorne settled into a deep sleep. He had continued to purge his body for hours, but despite needing more fluids, he seemed restful. Healthy even. The infection should have worsened, but it seemed to have abated. His chest rose and fell evenly, and I whispered to the nurse standing by.
“I need some air, to clear my head. But if he awakens or there are any other changes, please send for me. I will be in the garden.”
She nodded, and I fled outside, letting the cool air fold around me. The sound of peepers echoed from the forest beyond the grounds, and my footsteps crunched loud on the gravel walkway as I turned into the labyrinth, the wall of foliage towering over me. I had already written an urgent letter to my mentor, Dr. Jenner, but his reply would not arrive at least until tomorrow. I might not have tomorrow. Lord Aberthorne could be dead, and his wife would make sure I never worked again, such was the power of the Aberthornes.
I came to the center of the labyrinth, to a replica of some Athenian temple the marchioness had prattled on about during one afternoon. Moonlight shone against the white marble, and I wandered inside, the wind whistling through the columns, throwing long shadows across the floor. I looked up and sucked in my breath. Audrey sat on a bench, hugging her knees to her chest as she stared up at the oculus in the ceiling. I drank in the sight of her delicate profile, her small hands folded together, the way her dark hair flowed down her back. She was Venus, Athena, Artemis. A nymph, a night spirit. My chest tightened, and I shook my head, backing away as the same uncontrollable anger sent stabs of heat to my brain. Of course I would see her in that moment. Of all moments. As if the gods laughed at me, mocking me with all the things I could never have. Once my desires had seemed so simple. A quiet practice, someone to share it with, children maybe. But fate had placed a woman in my path who could never be mine, and it had given me the ability to save so many lives, except for the one that could have changed my fortune. My father, a grocer, had been a superstitious man. He would tell me I had tested God’s will too much, reached too high. Like Icarus, I flew too close to the sun, and now I would pay the price.
My retreating footsteps must have alerted her to my presence, and her small voice called to me.
“Joseph,” she said.
I stopped. “I apologize, Miss Byrnes. I did not mean to disturb you. I had only meant to seek some fresh air.”
“They say Lord Aberthorne does poorly.”
I ran my hands through my hair, still facing away from her. “I suppose I am not t
he surgeon I thought I was.”
“No,” she said, and the scent of cut grass and lemon hit me, my body tingling at her nearness. She placed her hand on my arm. “No. You did everything you could to try to save his life.”
“Everything is not enough for someone like Lady Aberthorne. This will ruin me.” My limbs tensed, and I clenched my fist, fighting off the flood of desire for her washing over me.
She slipped in front of me, her fingers gripping tighter on my arm. “It won’t. You’ll see.”
I stared down at her wide eyes, her full bottom lip, and I resisted the urge to bend down and kiss her, push her against the wall, reach beneath her nightdress, and…
Enough, Joseph.
I backed away, but she refused to let go of me and instead stepped closer.
“I wish I shared your optimism, Miss Byrnes.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? Our intimacies are over. We are mere acquaintances now, are we not?”
Her eyes glittered with tears, but I wrenched away from her, refusing to soften my tone. I wanted her to hurt in the way I hurt, and it took all my self-control to push the horrible rage down, to resume my place as the calm and constant Dr. Moorland. The torrent of emotions sent a fever to my head, and I knew I should have left lest I cross some terrible line, but I stood in front of her, my feet rooted to the spot.
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