Chapter 17 - Vera
They were seated in the parlor. Stephen was trying to teach Benjamin the basics of chess. Vera pretended to read the medical textbook open in her lap while shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation.
“That was an excellent idea, but remember that the king can only move one square.” Stephen reset the board. “But look closely—there’s another opportunity you might be inclined to take. Don’t forget your pawns—just because they’re smaller than the others, doesn’t mean they can’t be very effective.”
Vera watched the ordinary scene—similar to others that had occurred a thousand times before in rooms much like this—and felt something within her shift.
It might have been imperceptible had she not been paying attention, but as her thoughts were wholly focused on the physician with whom she shared a roof, she was able to discern it quite clearly.
Forgiveness—that was what the feeling was. Genuine forgiveness.
Vera forgave Stephen for what he’d done, for how terribly he’d treated her when he first arrived.
She thought she quite understood it now.
Though that understanding wasn’t enough to excuse his behavior, he’d apologized multiple times and—more importantly—his actions proved that he meant what he said.
Even though she’d told him she forgave him, until this moment, she hadn’t. Not fully, at least. There was still a shard left behind in the wound that kept it from fully closing, kept it from healing completely. Now, that little sliver of hurt had worked itself free.
“Well done!” Stephen exclaimed from the chess table. He grinned over at her. “Vera, come see. Benjamin has put me into check.”
She obligingly set her book on the sofa next to her, a satin ribbon acting as her placeholder amongst a diagram of the organs.
“It hardly matters,” the boy protested, even as his cheeks flushed with pleasure. “You’re just going to get out of it again.”
“Nonsense. I’ve been playing for years, and you’ve only been learning for a fortnight. You should never have put me in such a pickle—I think you have a natural aptitude for the game.” Stephen beamed up at Vera where she stood at the edge of the table. “Look.”
Vera smiled politely and nodded as Stephen showed her how Benjamin had accomplished the feat, but she heard very little of what he said.
Something had happened in that split second when Stephen had smiled up at her. It was as if that little shard had left a vacuum behind, and this new something had rushed in to fill it. Vera wasn’t sure what it was, and that frightened her.
“My lord,” Roland said from the doorway. “A servant has come from the Marquess Salisbury’s house. It’s the marchioness. They bid you come at once.”
Their ride to Devon Manor was quick and tense. Thankfully, the road between the two houses was well maintained and there wasn’t too much of it. Still, Vera glanced sideways at Stephen several times and his expression was the same—a grim clench of the jaw that spoke of his concern.
“Vera,” he said, turning suddenly toward her when they were almost to the house.
“In my experience, matters with pregnant ladies are either nothing at all or extremely grave. I don’t know which this is, but I need your word that if I ask you to leave the room, you’ll do it immediately without protesting. ”
She nodded and her eyes pricked with her worry.
Adelaide, she thought. Please let nothing happen to Adelaide.
Though she and Adelaide weren’t nearly as close as Candace and Adelaide were, Vera still admired the lady for her kindness and quick intelligence. It was a rare combination in English society, where ladies usually demonstrated their wit by aiming slicing set-downs at their competitors.
When they arrived at the grand house, the mannerisms of the staff did little to calm Vera’s worry.
They were greeted in the driveway by a grouping of servants led by the housekeeper, who wrung her hands.
Stephen rushed up the stairs behind a footman who took the stairs two at a time.
Vera huffed in their wake, holding her skirts far too high for propriety’s sake in her haste—but no one noticed or cared.
They swept through the door of the lord’s suite. Vera nearly slumped into a chair—for there was Adelaide, resting comfortably in bed against a mound of pillows. She was nearly upright, an embarrassed little smile on her face, her eyes bright.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Percy said, ushering Stephen to the bedside. “I was beside myself.”
“Really, Percy, this isn’t necessary.” Adelaide gave a grimacing smile to Stephen and Vera. “I’m so very sorry. They shouldn’t have called you at all.”
“We weren’t busy, were we, Vera?” Stephen smiled at her, as if checking that she’d made it up the stairs after all. “Now, since we’re here, you might as well let me help you.”
“I just had…I had a minor stomach upset.” Adelaide’s cheeks grew pinker by the second. “I feel much better now. There was no need to call the physician, as I told my husband from the first.”
“Some mild stomach upset shouldn’t be any cause for alarm.” Stephen frowned and looked back and forth between the married couple.
The marchioness was giving her husband a wide-eyed beseeching look, as if silently begging him for something. The marquess frowned implacably back.
“Are you sure that there isn’t something else you’d like to tell me?” Stephen said gently.
Vera trusted his instincts—there was something they weren’t privy to, some undercurrent here they didn’t understand.
“Not at all,” Adelaide said.
“Darling—” Percy tilted his head.
“I beg of you—please don’t.” She shook her head, her eyes wide.
“He’s already here. We might as well tell him.”
Adelaide still shook her head desperately, her eyes round.
Percy turned to Stephen resolutely, his back straight. “She belched.”
Adelaide groaned and covered her face with her hands.
“Belched?” Stephen replied, his tone one of mild, professional interest.
Vera was impressed; she didn’t know how Stephen managed it. She herself was struggling to gain control of her own winged eyebrows.
Percy nodded stoutly.
“Pregnancy can cause more eructation than normal—” Stephen began.
Percy threw his hands in the air. “You don’t understand! It was the biggest belch I’ve ever heard!”
Vera choked back a giggle; she made little strangled noise, instead. Adelaide still covered her face, but her shoulders were shaking against her propped pillows. Vera desperately hoped the lady was laughing and not sobbing from humiliation.
“Oh, well—” Stephen said.
Percy kept on, waggling his finger. “And mind you, I went to Eton. Have you ever heard a bar room full of young lords freshly let loose upon society? It’s crude and loud, and Lord Fergus could belch the entirety of ‘God Save the King.’ We used to have belching competitions, with points given for tenor and resonance and length of echo.
” He slashed his hand through the air for emphasis. “This belch left them all behind.”
“I see.” Stephen was smiling now, but it was still well within the bounds of politeness.
Adelaide peeked through her fingers. Vera was relieved to see that the woman was hiding embarrassed laughter, instead of tears.
“Percy,” Adelaide finally managed to gasp. “Please stop. I’m mortified.”
“Well? The doctor needs to know.” He turned back to Stephen, his eyes wide, intense. “I’m telling you, it was unnatural. Cataclysmic.”
Adelaide was crying now, but only because she’d been overwhelmed by her giggling.
Vera had to hold a hand to her lips to cover her smile.
She knew she had to strive to remain professional no matter the circumstances, but the sheer amazement in Percy’s voice was difficult to overcome.
The man sounded equal parts afraid and impressed.
“Lady Salisbury, did you feel better afterward?” Stephen asked.
“Much better.”
“Then the emission served its purpose. If the condition persists, peppermint tea can be very soothing. I’d also recommend avoiding overly spiced or rich foods, as those can make the issue worse.”
“Thank you.” Adelaide nodded, wheezing through the residual laughter and swiping at her eyes.
“See?” Percy waved his hand. “I told you it wouldn’t be off-putting. He’s a physician; he’s heard far more shocking things.”
“Indeed,” Stephen said. “Your husband was right to call—”
“See?” Percy repeated, his eyebrows raised.
“You should never hesitate to call. This is your first pregnancy, and it’s natural that you’ll have many fears and questions regarding your condition.”
“I know I certainly do.” Percy crossed his arms. “It doesn’t help that we live mere miles from the Duke of Canterbury, who lost his first wife to childbirth.
In your medical opinion, do you think there might have been environmental factors that contributed to the lady’s death?
Was it a mistake to bring Adelaide here? ”
“Lord Salisbury,” Stephen said firmly. “It isn’t helpful, as a rule, to mention ladies who have passed in childbirth in front of your wife, who’s on the cusp of such an experience.”
Percy’s wide eyes flew to Adelaide’s alarmed ones. For the first time, he seemed to note how she’d gone a bit pale, how her fingers clutched at the linen sheets in distress. She certainly wasn’t laughing anymore.
“Forgive me, darling. I’m frightened.”
“No more than I am,” she said. “If I can bear the fear—along with getting up a dozen times at night to relieve myself while you snore on, undisturbed—then I certainly expect you to do the same.”
“Of course, darling. I am sorry.”
“Very well,” she sniffed. “You may make it up to me by allowing me to host a dinner party tomorrow night, to welcome Dahlia to the countryside.”
“It’s highly irregular to host a dinner in your condition.”
“And calling our neighbor to tell him of my epic belch isn’t?”
“He’s a physician. It’s not as if I wrote in to report it to the gossip rags. Besides, you must rest—”
“Percy!” She thumped the bed coverings. “If the physician says I’m able to sit at a dinner table—the same way I do every night, I might add—then you aren’t going to be the one to tell me no.”
All eyes in the room turned to Stephen.
Vera bit back a smile—she knew precisely the war that waged inside his head.
If he gave the marchioness a clean bill of health, she was going to invite him to a dinner party.
Stephen detested dinner parties, Vera well knew.
Small talk was difficult for him—he’d rather discuss a new surgical technique in gruesome detail, rather than pretend to be interested in the hat Miss So-and-So had seen in the village shop only yesterday.
In the end, as Vera knew it would, his physician’s ethic won out.
Stephen nodded. “You are quite able to attend a dinner party, as long as you leave every bit of the preparations to the staff and rest quite thoroughly before and afterward. I’d also recommend you don’t serve anything too rich or full of spice, as that might cause you digestive upset.”
Adelaide smiled triumphantly at her husband. “There, do you see? I’m perfectly able to attend, and we both know that is all I like to do when it comes to hosting.”
“That’s not true.” Percy’s chin took a belligerent stance. “You also like to tell the staff what kind of flowers you prefer.”
“Then I shall give Mrs. Penn carte blanche on the matter, just to satisfy you. I won’t even ask if the hothouse roses are blooming. Will that satisfy?”
“Very well, my dear. I will make all the preparations, including extending invitations.” He abruptly turned to Vera and Stephen. “Lord Winthrop, Miss Ashbury, you are invited to an early dinner tomorrow evening. Please be here by five and be prepared to leave promptly at eight.”
“You cannot instruct guests when to leave,” his wife hissed, her expression appalled.
“On the contrary, my dear, I just did. And furthermore, you’re already breaking the parameters of our agreement by trying to insert yourself into the planning. Perhaps we should just cancel the thing altogether.” He turned back to Vera and Stephen and opened his mouth.
“No,” Adelaide said. “It’s quite all right. Five is wonderful.” She smiled at her guests. “Looking forward to seeing you both.”
“A gracious invitation, indeed,” Stephen said gravely, though Vera had to hide her smile at the slight quaver of his lips.
“Dearest,” Percy said blithely, turning to his wife. “Do you mind if I send a rider to Kent? If you think you might have a repeat performance of today’s intestinal upset at our dinner party, I’d dearly love for Lord Fergus to be able to hear it. Otherwise, he’ll never believe me.”
“Percy!”
The marquess neatly dodged the tasseled throw pillow aimed at his head. “Our marriage has improved your aim, my dear. I take all the credit, and you are very welcome.”