The Doctor and the Libertine: The Merry Misfits of Bath - Book Five

by Hutton, Callie

  Edwin made his way to the entrance hall. With the arrival of the employees Walter had still not left the house. “My good man, once things are settled here, I would like to insist Dr. Stevens retire to her bedchamber, but as you can see, I am in no position to enforce that.” He pointed to his leg.

  “Therefore, I would ask you to—” The front door knocker dropped to interrupt him. Edwin motioned to the door.

  Walter opened the door and a man stood there. Tall, and so slender as to appear emaciated, he wore a long black coat, a top hat, and a stern expression. “Dr. Stevens, please.” He stepped over the entrance way and handed his hat and gloves to Walter.

  “May I ask who is calling, sir?” Walter said.

  “Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones.”

  Rayne came down the corridor just as the man announced himself. He looked at Rayne and offered what he probably considered a smile.

  It didn’t quite make it. “Hello, my dear.”

  Walter and Edwin turned to Rayne.

  “Oh. Yes. Hello, Mr. Faulkner-Jones.” She appeared quite flustered and attempted to tuck her hair behind her ears and smooth out her hopelessly dirty and wrinkled dress.

  Edwin got a strange feeling in his stomach. He looked at Rayne, who continued to stare at the man as if she’d seen a ghost. “Who is this?” Edwin demanded.

  The man answered for her, distaste on his face as he took in Rayne’s disheveled appearance. “Not that it is your concern, sir, but as I said, I am Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones.” He turned his tight-lipped face to Edwin. “Dr. Stevens is my fiancée.”

  Chapter 8

  Whatever was Mr. Faulkner-Jones doing here, standing in her entrance hall? He was supposed to be in India, Egypt, or Russia, or someplace like that. He was always wandering around the world in search of things. She’d lost track of him a couple of years ago. In all honesty, she’d even forgotten about him, and the fact that he was her fiancé.

  The four of them remained still. Her, Edwin, Mr. Faulkner-Jones, and Walter. Finally, Edwin broke the ice. “Perhaps you might want to introduce us to your fiancé?”

  “Er. Yes. Mr. Faulkner-Jones, may I present Edwin—I apologize, Lord Sterling that is, and Walter, my doorman.”

  Her fiancé—she cringed at the term—nodded at both men, then viewed her with raised eyebrows. “May I enter, or shall I be forced to stand in the entrance hall for the duration of my visit?”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. I apologize, I am a bit tired.” Rayne turned and for a moment was confused as to where she should put him. Since none of the patients had left yet, every bed in the infirmary was filled, along with the sofa in the drawing room.

  “I have a full house right now since there was a train accident and I am currently housing ten—actually counting the children—twelve patients.”

  He continued to stare at her. “Yes?”

  “I’m afraid my drawing room is occupied, perhaps we can retire to the kitchen?”

  If possible, his brows rose further. “The kitchen?”

  She was becoming annoyed. He’d always had a way about him to make her feel as though she were completely incompetent. And frankly when she was around him, she did feel incompetent. Which was why she would have preferred to know ahead of time that he planned on visiting her.

  “Might I suggest we retire to the garden, then, since the weather is fairly acceptable today?” Rayne had to get Mr. Faulkner-Jones out of the house. He was already annoyed at her lack of a proper place to visit with him. The way he cast derisive glances at her attire told her what he thought of her appearance, and as tired as she was, she would make some gaffe very soon.

  He gave her a curt nod and sniffed. “Since there seems no place to visit here, the garden will have to do.”

  “I can send for tea,” she said as she led him down the corridor to the back door. Thank goodness she at least had a cook, so that would be no problem.

  “I just broke my fast.”

  She assumed that meant he did not want tea. Oh, Lord, if only she wasn’t so tired. She hadn’t slept all night, what with frantic family members arriving at her door at all hours to see loved ones, and running upstairs to check on the two children, and then back downstairs to bathe those with fevers, she felt as though she would collapse at any moment.

  The three of them stepped onto the patio and Rayne led them to a small table in the corner. Where she’d brought Edwin, in fact when he’d been a patient.

  As he pulled out a chair for Rayne, he looked over at Edwin. “Excuse, me, sir but exactly why are you here?”

  “Mr. Falkner-Jones!” Rayne was appalled at the man’s rude question.

  She shouldn’t have worried. Years of being raised in the ton, attending the top schools, and socializing with the Upper Crust did not leave Edwin at a loss for words.

  Now his brows rose dangerously close to his hairline. At this rate it could very well become a contest. “Ah, my good man. ‘Tis not sir to you, but ‘my lord’. And I am here because I wish to be.”

  Rayne wanted to bang her head on the table, but with all that had happened so far that morning, she would probably knock herself out. Which might not be a bad thing.

  “To clarify my answer to your discourteous question, I am assisting Dr. Stevens with her finances.”

  Before Mr. Faulkner-Jones could further antagonize Edwin since it appeared the discussion was going in that direction, she jumped in. “How long will you be in Bath, Mr. Faulkner-Jones?” Not long, she hoped.

  “I will be here long enough to get this marriage business settled.” He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his jacket.

  “Marriage business?” She began to feel lightheaded and gripped the table to hang onto consciousness.

  “Yes. Your father sent for me. He said since his health is failing, he wishes to see you settled before he passes on.”

  What a lovely way to propose to a woman. Although they were theoretically betrothed since her father and Mr. Faulkner-Jones had made the arrangements years ago, she had never received a proper proposal from the man who sat before her.

  Since your father seems to think he will die soon, let’s get this marriage business over with.

  “I can assure you, sir, that my father is in excellent health. Yes, his doctor suggested he pass his medical practice over to me because of his age, but there is no reason to assume we will not be enjoying his presence for some time.”

  He shrugged, as if the entire matter was of no importance. “Well, I am here now, summoned it seems for naught. But since I don’t wish to be hauled back again in a year or two for a wedding, I prefer to see to it now.”

  Edwin stood. “Excuse me for interrupting, but Dr. Stevens, may I have a word with you?”

  When Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones looked at Edwin, he added, “There is something about your ledger book that must be addressed. Immediately.”

  “Immediately?” Rayne said.

  “Yes. Post haste.” He circled the table, gripped her elbow, and raised her from the chair. Then he proceeded to march her—there was no better description—down the corridor to the drawing room. He smiled at the patient lying on the sofa and dragged her over to the corner.

  “What the blasted hell is going on out there?” He waved in the direction of the garden, his eyes snapping and his stance rigid.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Perhaps if she acted the innocent, this entire nightmare would end, and she could climb the stairs and collapse onto her bed. Except that wouldn’t happen since there was no one else to look after the patients.

  “Since when are you betrothed?”

  Now he was beginning to annoy her. Why did men seem to think she had to reply to any question they threw at her? “Since a few years. I don’t know, a long time.”

  “Years?”

  “Yes. Many years. So many years that I seldom remember that I am betrothed. I’ve seen Mr. Faulkner-Jones less than three times in my life. He has never officially proposed, and most times I completely forget about him.” Sh
e poked Edwin in the chest. “Furthermore, I am so tired I can hardly stand, and I’m not in the mood to appease the egos of men.” With those words she humiliated herself by bursting into tears.

  “Come here.” Edwin reached for her and she went willingly into his arms, sobbing on his chest, causing his cravat to become limp and his shirt damp. He rubbed her back as she cried. She took the handkerchief he placed into her hand.

  She blew her nose. “I will wash this before I return it.”

  He waved her off. “I think you should get some sleep. You are exhausted and if you collapse completely you won’t be able to help anyone.”

  “I can’t.” She pointed to the man on the sofa who was staring at them as if they were the best entertainment he’d had in a while. “Someone needs to care for them.”

  “I will have one of the maids monitor them instead of cleaning. Then we will hire you an assistant, if only until these patients have returned to their homes. You cannot do it all, Rayne.”

  “Dr. Stevens? Why is this man calling you by your given name? And why does he have his arms around you?” Mr. Faulkner-Jones had apparently joined them in the drawing room and was just now making his presence known.

  Damn.

  Edwin had been holding in his temper since the obnoxious, pompous man had arrived. He was still reeling from learning that Rayne was betrothed. That situation was a shock in itself, but now that he met the man, he would do everything in his power to make sure she never married the supercilious bastard.

  They turned together to face the interloper, Edwin keeping his arm around Rayne’s waist in a possessive move that Faulkner-Jones didn’t miss. “Sir, Dr. Stevens has spent almost thirty-six hours tending to patients after the city had a horrendous train accident. She is tired, upset, and most likely hungry. I am not only her employee—”

  “—You are not my employee,” Rayne broke in.

  He turned toward her and lowered his voice. “You insisted on paying me, so that is what I am.”

  “I cannot employ a peer.” She shook her head and wiped her nose. “It is not done, and Father would never approve,” she whispered.

  “Well, it has been done. You were the one who insisted on paying me. That makes me your employee.” His voice rose a bit.

  Faulkner-Jones cleared his throat.

  “I only insisted on paying you because I cannot accept charity.” Rayne pointed her finger at his face.

  Sometimes the woman could be impossible. But then again, in his experience most women were impossible. What she was saying made no sense. “It is not charity. If someone performs a service for someone else and that someone else insists on paying that first someone, that first someone becomes an employee of the second someone. Rather, the someone else.” Blasted hell he was beginning to sound like her.

  “Father disapproves of—”

  “Excuse me!” Mr. Faulkner-Jones shouted loud enough to wake every sleeping patient in the building. Or on the street.

  He bristled and glared at the two of them. “Dr. Stevens. It appears that perhaps now is not the best time for us to make whatever arrangements are necessary for this wedding business. I will, therefore, call another time. However, I will be visiting with your father shortly to finalize all the paperwork.”

  “Finalize the paperwork? It sounds to me like you are purchasing a horse from Tattersall’s.” Edwin grew more agitated each time the cur opened his mouth. He made marriage to Dr. Stevens sound like a business deal. Which he was beginning to believe it was.

  If Faulkner-Jones’s nose rose any higher, he would drown in a rainstorm. “I still have not ascertained why I am being questioned by you, my lord.”

  Rayne put her hand on his forearm as he moved forward, ready to punch the man in the face. “No. Don’t start anything, please. Just let him leave.”

  Edwin took a deep breath and nodded. However, he was remaining right here until Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones made his exit. She still had a lot of explaining to do.

  That thought brought him up short. Why? She was no more to him than a doctor who fixed him up after his foolish accident. Just because he’d kissed her, and she kissed him back hadn’t changed anything.

  Well, maybe not to her since she was already betrothed, but he had admitted to himself that it had meant something to him. He hadn’t even the time to consider it and wonder if there could ever be anything between them since he knew in her eyes, he was nothing more than a reprobate.

  But he had hoped to have a chance. To change, and to show her he’d changed. He might even open up and tell her about his sister. He’d never spoken to anyone about that disaster, but if he hoped to have anything at all with Rayne she had to know.

  He was beginning to get a headache.

  Turning his attention back to Faulkner-Jones, he said, “I am Dr. Stevens’ friend. I also work for her by organizing her books and financial matters. She is much too busy to deal with it all herself. However, it has come to my attention that as her so-called betrothed, one would think you—ouch.” He scowled at her and rubbed his side where she’d elbowed him.

  “Just let him leave, please,” she murmured.

  “Dr. Stevens. I do hope to speak with you—alone,” Faulkner-Jones glowered at Edwin, “before I meet with your father. I have sent word that I will visit with him Tuesday, next. I shall pick you up this Friday at six in the evening for dinner at a local restaurant where we can discuss expectations and other issues paramount to our marriage.” He looked pointedly at Edwin. “Alone.”

  He jumped in. “I cannot allow that. It is not proper. Dr. Stevens will need a chaperone. I shall attend also.”

  Now Faulkner-Jones looked like he wanted to throttle him. “I am her betrothed,” the man said between gritted teeth.

  “Ah, but not her husband. Yet.” Or never if I have anything to say about it.

  Rayne looked back and forth. “I have had enough and am going to bed. Please work this out between you.” Despite her disheveled state, she squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and left the room with all the dignity of the Queen.

  Before Edwin could think of the words to say to get rid of this insufferable man, one of the young maids entered the room, walked up to him and curtsied. “My lord, a patient in the infirmary is asking for a glass of water and another one would like a message sent to his mother. Where is Dr. Stevens?”

  Keeping Faulkner-Jones in his line of sight to make sure he didn’t chase Rayne up the stairs, he said, “She is getting some much needed and much deserved rest. I will step into her place. For now, give the patient something to drink. I will join you in the infirmary in a minute.”

  “My goodness. Aren’t we talented? Besides being a friend, a peer of the realm, a financial consultant, a chaperone of young ladies’ virtue, and an accountant, you are also a doctor?” The snide remark coming from Faulkner-Jones was enough to push Edwin over the edge.

  “I am inviting you to leave, sir. Quickly. Or I will not be responsible for my actions. And I can assure you that Dr. Stevens will not attend to your injuries.”

  Faulkner-Jones widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “You cannot make me leave. This is not your home.”

  “Nor is it yours.” Edwin nodded in the direction of the front door. “Walter has gone on an errand for Dr. Stevens, so you will see yourself out.”

  When Faulkner-Jones didn’t move, Edwin pointed to the doorway and after a slight hesitation, the man turned and stomped from the room. He picked up his coat and hat and left.

  Edwin departed from the drawing room, the patient on the sofa still studying him with a wide grin on his face as if he planned to write a book about the shenanigans he’d witnessed among the upper crust.

  Chapter 9

  It had taken only three days from when Mr. Faulkner-Jones visited the infirmary for Rayne to receive a summons from her father to attend him. His tersely worded message alerted her to the fact that her fiancé had spoken to Father after his call on her.

  There
are things that concern me regarding your upcoming nuptials to Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones that must be discussed. I expect your arrival Saturday at 3:00.

  Dr. Douglas Stevens

  Father had never been a warm, loving man, but this was the first time she remembered receiving a letter from him where he signed as Dr. Stevens. She was in trouble, no doubt about it.

  She sighed as she wrote the report for Mr. Littleton who had left the day before. That left Glory, who needed no more than good solid food for a while, and four of the train accident patients. Another woman had come in the day before with a breathing problem that Rayne diagnosed as asthma. Once she was able to stabilize the woman, she could return home.

  Edwin continued to come each day and tend to her invoices and outstanding bills. He was gone a couple of hours each afternoon and returned with money. He was very persuasive, although she did mark certain bills as ‘don’t press too hard, they don’t have much money.’

  To her relief, she’d also received a note from Mr. Faulkner-Jones that he would not be available to escort her to dinner on Friday. He made it sound as though it had been her idea and he was sorry to disappoint. She was sure that had precipitated Father’s summons. No doubt the man either visited Father or sent a peevish note.

  “Dr. S'evens, Mrs. Foster said I could 'elp 'er in 'he ki'chen if i' is accep'able 'o you.”

  Rayne cringed and smiled at the same time as Glory came bouncing into her small office. The child was a delight to have around, although Rayne had not decided what to do with the girl. Very telling was the fact that Glory never once asked for anyone or requested to be sent home. Or whatever situation she considered home.

  She’d gotten some dresses for Glory from the church and bought a few things herself for the child, mostly underwear, shoes and stockings. She had also thrown in a pretty ribbon that the girl cherished. It had been rather fun to buy small articles of clothing for a child. It made her think of how it would be if she were to be a mother herself.