by Regina Darcy
He had not found a resolution for that yearning which was so definitively at odds with the terms of their marriage contract. He longed to bury his hands in her glorious mane of hair, to take a deep breath of that intoxicating scent that was uniquely hers and ravish her passionately, like only a man in love with his wife would envision doing!
He clenched his fists. This was all foolishness.
How could he have fallen in love with a woman he intended to divorce in five years? What folly had he undertaken when he went to the Christmas Ball at Henton?
He looked up and their gaze locked. For a split second he was unable to hide the depths of his passion. His gaze sizzle as it lazily travelled along her form, leisurely resting fixated on her plump lips. When Theodosia in all her perturbed innocence wetted them, he almost came undone.
Breaking their eye contact David decided it would be safer for both of them if he focused on his mutton and drank plenty of icy cold water.
Tabitha had only to look at her cousin to know that circumstances had changed.
“You have either fallen in love with your husband,” she said once they were in the carriage and on their way to commence their shopping, “or you have taken a lover. As I know that you have not done the latter, I may assume the former.”
“Tabitha!” Theodosia protested as her cheeks went pink.
“You are outrageous!”
“I have eyes, you know.”
“I wish your advice on a gift for David. He has been most generous and I wish to reciprocate,” Theodosia said, attempting to salvage her dignity rather than surrender the field to her cousin’s keen observation.
“Then let us get out of the carriage and stroll,” Tabitha said. She knocked on the ceiling of the carriage to signal her driver to let them out. Once they were outside, Theodosia was glad that her husband, impatient at the slow pace of her personal shopping, had gone himself to buy a fur-lined coat for her, along with a muff and a stylish hat which would keep her warm. It was a cold day, but now, cold days only reminded her of that ardent carriage ride when she and David had kissed privately with no one the wiser as the vehicle travelled along the London streets to the outskirts of the city.
“Shall we try here?” Tabitha suggested. It was a little shop showing artwork in the window. The presence of a street vendor selling hot meat pies was attracting customers who were enticed by the odours of food.
“Oh, yes, let’s go in,” Theodosia said. Perhaps she would find a painting which could adorn the walls of David’s study.
Inside, they found that the shop was an enchanting hodgepodge of items. Tabitha spied a carved chess set that immediately caught her attention as something that would be perfect for Arthur. Theodosia turned to a shelf of intriguing statuary and suddenly saw just the one that she wanted.
It was a statue of King David when he became the hero of the Israelites who were terrorised by the Philistine giant Goliath. The statue showed David, his slingshot one hand, a sword in the other, his foot planted on the neck of the dead Philistine warrior over whom he had triumphed.
“This is the one I want,” she said to the shop clerk. She gave him the address where the statue was to be sent, with instructions to send it in her name. “And please, can you wrap it up so well that there is no way for anyone to know what is inside? It is a gift for my husband and I wish to surprise him.”
The clerk was pleased to agree to her instructions. After Tabitha had given similar directives, with a different address, for the chess set, the cousins continued their excursion by going into the dressmaker shops. The seamstresses were quite busy, but Theodosia did manage to find a velvet dress the colour of garnet, and a woollen dress in navy. Pleased with her purchases, she agreed to continue to Tabitha’s home for tea.
Soon the ladies were ensconced comfortably before the fireplace, with a cup of tea, discussing their plans for the Christmas Day celebration at Henton.
Tabitha and the Viscount were going to leave on Monday of the following week in order to see that all was in order at the estate.
“I am sure that it all is,” Tabitha said, “but Arthur doesn’t like to leave anything to chance. Then you and David will come and—”
The drawing-room door burst open and Arthur came in. “Theodosia, thank God you’re here! There’s been an accident—”
Theodosia got up from the couch, her heart thumping in her chest.
“David, is he hurt? What is the matter?”
In no time at all, the memory of her parents’ death crashed into her, removing the recent days of happiness that had been too fragile to last. “Is he dead?” she whispered, her lower lip trembling.
“No, not dead,” Arthur said, stricken that he had given Theodosia reason to expect the worst. He ought to have been more cautious, knowing her past tragedy. “He’s had a bad fall from a horse and broken his arm. It’s—the doctor is with him now. We went riding and—”
Tabitha signalled her husband surreptitiously to say no more.
“We’ll take you back,” she said, cutting off Arthur.
“I must go to him now,” Theodosia replied distractedly.
“Yes, we’ll go with you. Arthur, please have our coats brought in and we’ll leave immediately.” She had a moment of sympathy for the driver who had likely just finished tending to the horses after the afternoon’s outing.
“Where are my—”
“We’re getting them, dear,” Tabitha assured her. “Here, put your coat on, and your hat, and we’ll leave in just a moment.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“He was examining David when I left. I didn’t want to lose a moment in getting word to you.”
“Yes, thank you, you did, that was the right thing to do, I must get to him.”
“Theodosia, he is alive,” Tabitha said firmly. “Be of good hope, Theo, and we’ll have you at David’s side in no time.”
Arthur instructed his driver to waste no time and it was not long before the Clemens carriage stopped at the Overton house. Arthur hurried out of the carriage to assist the ladies, but Theodosia bounded out right after him and raced through the open gate and up the stairs and into the house. Arthur and Tabitha were close behind after Arthur told the driver to return home; they would send word when they needed him again.
As Tabitha and Arthur entered the front door, they saw Theodosia in earnest conversation with the doctor.
“His arm is shattered,” Dr Parsons said. “I have given him laudanum for the pain whilst I attempted to set the arm. In order for the bones to heal—and I do not guarantee that the recovery will be complete—they must be immobilised. I should advise you to hire a nursemaid to tend to him. He will need help with every human function.”
“I shall nurse him,” Theodosia said firmly.
“There are functions with which a lady may be unfamiliar,” the doctor said tactfully, “and a newly wedded husband may not want his bride to see him so infirm and week. I would advise a nursemaid. And his valet had better be prepared to take on some of that work as well.”
“He doesn’t have a valet, he has always been self-sufficient.”
“He’ll need a male attendant,” the doctor said. “It is not only a matter of being able to tend to the duties but of being strong enough to do it. The nursing will need a man’s strength.”
“I’ll let James know; I’m sure he’ll be willing. The servants are devoted to David.
I want to see my husband.”
“I don’t recommend that now,” Dr Parsons said. “He is under the effects of laudanum, as I said and he will not be responsive to you. That may distress you. He may say things while under laudanum’s influence which will be distressing; gentlemen do not always speak with restraint when they are not in the company of ladies and he will have no means of—”
“Doctor,” Theodosia interjected, “you sound as if I am a timid schoolgirl who will fall prey to vapours if a gentleman utters a profanity. I assure you that I am neither a schoolgirl nor am
I timid. He is my husband and I am going to nurse him. I will follow your instructions and I understand that there are tasks which I may be physically unable to perform or for which I lack training. But I intend to do all that I can to help my husband recover from this fall and I do not intend to be told that I am not able to do so. David is very fond of fencing . . . he must not lose the use of his arm, Doctor, you must not let that happen.”
The doctor’s stern expression softened.
“Madame,” he said, “I respect your willingness to do what you conceive as your wifely duty. I will send someone over tomorrow to show you and his manservant what needs to be done. This person will be trained and able to help. For tonight, I recommend that you get as much rest as you possibly can. It will take some time before he is able to fence, I assure you.”
Arthur walked the doctor to the door. Tabitha hurried to her cousin’s side.
“Of course I must go to David,” Theodosia said.
“Of course you must,” her cousin agreed, walking beside her as Theodosia hurried up the staircase and into David’s bedroom.
How pale he was, Theodosia thought when she beheld him on his bed, his arm tightly confined in a sling across his chest. The healthy colouring of his face was wan and bloodless and she wondered if the accident had been even worse than the doctor had seen fit to tell her.
“I will stay here tonight,” Theodosia said. “I will sleep here.”
Tabitha did not remonstrate with her.
“I’ll speak to Abbot about setting up a bed for you here. Theo, Arthur and I will stay here to help.”
“I cannot intrude upon your holiday.”
“And I could not enjoy the holidays at Henton knowing that you were here and David is injured. We will stay and help. Come, take off your coat and hat. I’ll bring them to Mrs Morris and enlist her help as well.”
Theodosia barely noticed that Tabitha had removed her coat and left the room. She sat down upon the chair next to David’s bed and watched as he slept. He mumbled words in his laudanum-laced slumber but she could not decipher what he said. She wanted to hold his hand in order to offer comfort and assure him that she was with him and would not leave him, but she feared that any pressure upon even his fingers might injure the arm. So she sat at his side, stiff and unmoving, watching him.
She loved him.
She had not thought it possible that this arrangement would turn into anything more than exactly that: a five-year contract for a marriage that would end as scheduled. And yet, here she was, sitting at the bedside of her injured husband, heart-stricken at his condition and fearful that he would not recover. Desperately repeating to herself that David would be just fine, she went on to her knees and started praying for his good health. She did not notice the silent tears she was shedding.
Knowing that her cousin was likely to be emotionally consumed with fear and worry over David’s condition, Tabitha wasted no time in attending to what needed to be done. Mrs Morris had been there when the doctor arrived but he had not revealed her master’s condition to her.
“I’ll do whatever Her Ladyship needs me to do, ma’am,” Mrs Morris said. “I can lend a hand with the nursing. James will be that glad to be of service; he’s a good lad and strong. Mr Abbot, too; he’s no young man, but he’ll do his part. We’ve already talked this over amongst ourselves and we’ve decided that we’ll stay here for Christmas, instead of being off.”
“The Marquess would not want to deprive you of your holiday, I am sure,” Tabitha said, touched by the generosity of the servants.
“He’s a good master, milady,” Mrs Morris answered. “We’ll stay and be of use where we can. Her Ladyship, she’ll need tending to as well. Poor mite, newly married and now this. They’ve been ever so happy of late, it does a body good to see them together. I didn’t think His Lordship would ever marry, and when he came home and told us he’d found a wife, why, we were that amazed, we were. But we took to her right away, and she to us, I think. We’re like a family here, milady, and families stick together.”
“You are very good,” Tabitha said. “I am sure that the Marquess will be very grateful to learn of your loyalty once he is better.”
“He will get better?” Mrs Morris asked in a pleading tone.
“Oh, certainly,” Tabitha said with an assurance that she was far from feeling. “It will take rest and nursing and much care, but in time . . . why, I am sure he will be almost as good as new. But we must be patient and we must—we must see that the Marchioness does not lose heart. This is a difficult time for her. She lost her parents on Christmas and the holiday has long held sad memories for her. We must see to it that this holiday does not extend that memory.”
“Oh, to think of her having such an ordeal on the birthday of the Blessed Saviour, ” Mrs Morris said, putting her hand to her mouth in disbelief that such bad things could occur on what was a happy day. “We’ll look after her as if she was our own,” she said.
Tabitha had no doubt that Mrs Morris would be as good as her word. David was well served by his staff. He was a lucky man, she thought as she went into the drawing-room where Arthur was waiting.
“I’ve sent a messenger to alert our servants where we are,” Arthur said when she entered. “They’ll send changes of clothing and other effects.”
Tabitha went into his arms. “Thank you, Arthur,” she said.
“Thank me? For what?”
“For not minding that I want to be here to help.”
“Of course you do. And I want to be here as well.”
“It’s not the Christmas we expected.”
“Christmas has a way of making its own terms, doesn’t it,” he said, smiling as he held her close to him. “I don’t suppose the first Christmas was nearly as picturesque as we like to think. We’ll carry on as needed and we’ll be here for Theodosia and David. What else would be expected of an upstanding gentleman and his wife on Christmas?”
ELEVEN
Mrs Morris and Tabitha carried through on their promises. James came into the bedroom with cushions, blankets and pillows so that a makeshift bed could be made up for Theodosia. Mrs Morris followed behind with a cup of tea.
“If you need anything through the night, milady, you’ve only to ring and one of us will be here on the quick.”
“Thank you so very much, Mrs Morris,” Theodosia said gratefully, the cup of tea sending its warmth through her body. “I shall not need anything tonight unless he—unless there is some sort of ---”
“We’re here,” Mrs Morris said. “You’ve nothing to fear, milady. The Lord is watching over us and He won’t disappoint us. Now, you’d best get some sleep yourself, for you’ll be no good for His Lordship if you can’t keep your eyes open. I did hear Dr Parsons say that he gave His Lordship enough laudanum to make sure that he slept through the night.”
“Mrs Morris is right, Theodosia. You need to rest. David needs his sleep as well and the doctor has seen to that. Come the morning, we will be able to assess matters more clearly.”
Briskly, she went over to the chaise longue and made up a bed for Theodosia.
Theodosia felt as if she could barely move, and she allowed Tabitha to help her undress so that she could put on a nightdress. How strange it was, she thought. Here she was, a bride who had never spent the night with her husband, undressing in his bedroom as if it were all perfectly common to her. And he, in bed with his eyes closed, had no notion that she was there.
The thought that he was unaware of her presence nearly made her cry, but she reminded herself that the laudanum he had been given was intended to keep him resting.
“What if he tries to move in his sleep?” she asked after she had gotten under the bedcovers. “I shan’t know, I shall be over here. Perhaps I ought to sleep in the bed with him—”
“Arthur told me that the doctor has tied restraints on David’s legs and around his waist, to ensure that he does not move. He doubts that he will, however; the dose of laudanum is very strong and is intended t
o keep him virtually immobile until the morning. When Dr Parson’s returns tomorrow, he can determine what needs to be done next.”
However, David awoke early the next morning before the doctor came. It was still dark outside.
Theodosia, who had slept poorly, sat up as soon as she heard David’s voice utter an oath.
“David?”
“Theodosia?” his voice was groggy but it was apparent that the laudanum was wearing off and he was becoming conscious again. “What are --- where am I?”
“In your bed,” she answered, scrambling off the chaise longue so that she could light the nearby candle and provide light for the dark room.
“Why am I not able to move? What—what the devil is the matter with my arm?”
“Oh, don’t move, dearest,” she said, hurrying to his side. “You’ve had a fall, a bad one, but you’ll be well. Dr Parsons will come by today. He gave you quite a dose of laudanum so that you would sleep.”
David stared. “You’re in your nightgown,” he said.
“Yes, I . . . I’m sleeping here while you mend. Do you mind?”
David groaned. “I mind, but not for the reasons that you would think. Why do you need to sleep here? Am I dying?”
His blunt query made her laugh.
“Oh, no, David, it’s not like that. But you’ve broken your arm, you see . . . you fell from your horse.”
“I didn’t!”
“I’m afraid that you did.”
He cursed again, then, mindful of her presence, apologised. “I’m sorry, Theodosia. I ought to know better than to swear in front of a lady.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Is it Christmas?”
“No, not yet.”
“I take it that we won’t be going to Henton for the holiday?”
“No, we’ll stay here and have our Christmas at home. The servants don’t want to take off, either. They want to stay. They are very fond of you.”