Chapter Four
Three months later…
“O f course, you can stay here as long as you wish,” Lexi said when Melissa sat at the vanity table in her guest chamber and began to pull out the pins that held her bonnet in place. “We could use the help, you know.”
“With what?” Melissa allowed herself to shut her eyes with relief for a moment. Perhaps she could inform Prinny that she was needed for the family business and couldn’t return to resume her duties in Brighton until after the summer. A dukedom with a family business may just be scandalous enough for Prinny to wish to sever ties with Melissa—wait! That would be bad for Lexi and Dustin. She needed another idea.
And everybody knew that Prinny didn’t frequent Brighton much in the fall, much less during the winter. She clung to the hope that he wouldn’t summon her to London, but she knew it was, in reality, only a matter of time. This fleeting moment at Starcliff Castle, a place she’d come to adore in her time with Lexi, was a pause Melissa needed from the many familiar faces in society at court more than even her other duties.
“It’s the pomp and circumstance of being a duchess,” Lexi said, wringing her hands as she used to as a child when she’d spilled her mother’s expensive perfume or broken an heirloom vase.
Melissa deflated. But the duties of a big sister never ceased. She buried her face in her hands and mumbled, “What do you need, Lexi?”
“Well, it’s just that I don’t have the energy to give the castle the flair of a new duchess. Dustin said that I would be expected to remodel or renovate, but I find the chambers rather well-appointed, and all I want sometimes is to lay on my side—”
“Wait!” Melissa rose and went to face her sister. “You are tired? You ?”
Lexi gave a sad nod. Melissa narrowed her eyes. This was most unusual for her younger sister.
“Are you sick?” Melissa asked.
“Only if people put food before me.”
“For how long has this been going on?”
Lexi shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “A month and a half, perhaps two?”
“And you’ve been married for three months?”
Lexi nodded again, her gaze cast low.
Melissa raised her brows.
Then Lexi tore her eyes wide open and locked them with Melissa. “No!”
“Perhaps, yes.”
Lexi clasped her belly with both hands, then her mouth, and then her chest as if she didn’t know where to put her hands. “Is it possible?”
“If you have to ask me that after three months of marriage with a dashing doctor like Dustin, I worry about you,” Melissa spoke with the pride and resignation of a big sister. Lexi was adorable sometimes, even though she was all grown up now. She hadn’t lost her sense of naivety, and Melissa secretly hoped she would never lose it. Not even if she would have a baby before Melissa ever got the chance.
“Lexi, dear, you might be pregnant!” Melissa tasted the words as if they were bringing a new reality to their family, one in which Lexi took the lead as a duchess and soon as a mother. It felt like something had popped, and she suspected that it was her younger sister, who was now all grown up—something Melissa found difficult to grasp. When she saw Lexi draining of color, she pressed on. “Have you had your courses?”
Lexi shook her head.
Oh, darling sister.
Lexi swallowed visibly. “What do I do now?”
Melissa’s eyes burned with tears—probably of joy because this meant there’d be a baby in the family. Melissa had expected to be the first to have a baby because she’d been the first to marry, but if it weren’t to be, then she’d be there for her sister. Perhaps Mrs. Dove-Lyon would help and give her a second chance at love with John.
She could do this. Yes, Melissa was ready for a baby, and she’d expected to have one by the time she was four and twenty, but life hadn’t entirely turned out as she’d hoped. “This is what I’m going to do: I’ll be there for you as much as possible and never leave you alone.”
Lexi wiped a tear from her cheek and slumped against Melissa, who relied on her to be caught in a hug, just as they used to as children. But they weren’t children anymore, and the next generation was underway.
“I have to tell Dustin!” Lexi called as if the thought were a new revelation and jumped backward.
“Yes, go.” Melissa smiled.
Lexi gave her a tight hug and then darted off.
Melissa thought to herself, a baby in the family , wondering what to do with the new information. It made her smile, even though something tugged at her heart.
She sank back onto the chair before the vanity and picked up the silver brush with special boar bristles to make her hair shine, as her mother had taught her. One hundred times, every morning, and every evening, so that a man would be pleased when he undid her hair—a privilege reserved for her husband. Except that he hadn’t been too interested in anything besides his ledger, and he’d never given her true pleasure. Then, after the diagnosis of the grippe came in their first winter, he’d lost hope and dwindled like a candle without air.
One, two, three… Melissa swept the brush over her strands.
Hopefully, Mrs. Dove-Lyon could find a way for Melissa to free herself from the “privilege” of being at Prinny’s court before she had to give him the privilege of being in her bed. She’d been born with every advantage, wealth, and luxury but she’d never quite felt as though she could truly enjoy life. Yet beneath the finery, a tightness curled in her chest, an ache she couldn’t soothe. She smiled too often, agreed too quickly, always seeking that flicker of approval from those around her. It was easier that way, to meet their unspoken demands, to be who they wanted her to be.
But there were moments, stolen and fleeting, when her mind wandered. What would it feel like to make a choice that wasn’t carefully curated for someone else’s benefit? To wander unfamiliar streets without the weight of duty pressing on her shoulders? She hadn’t dared to find out, and that truth—more than all the demands placed on her—was what tugged at her the most. The life she carried wasn’t one she held; it was one she performed, her own desires buried somewhere she hadn’t yet dared to look.
It was exhausting constantly to be ready for him and hope he wouldn’t come. It was terrifying.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…
John. The thought of him wasn’t just a longing—it clawed at her chest, a quiet ache that begged for more than she should give as long as Prinny wished for her presence at Court. Yet, John made her feel something indescribable, something entirely hers. But even that came with chains.
Prinny’s attentions loomed, sharp as claws grazing too close to her skin. Shaking him off without insult felt impossible, and the favor she held wasn’t meant for her escape from him.
Then there was Mrs. Dove-Lyon, spinning her dangerous webs at every corner of society. Melissa shivered. Her thoughts returned to John—his voice, his smile, the calm that settled her when he was near. She’d been bold enough or stupid to risk it all for him and didn’t know what Mrs. Dove-Lyon had in store.
Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…
The life of a high-born daughter was wearying. Even at a young age, she’d been dragged to morning calls with her mother or forced to sit with a tight-lipped smile during afternoon teas with matrons of the Ton. And now, she had the reputation of a woman with far more experience than she truly had, while all she wished for was true love.
Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…
Lexi needed her now more than ever. The new task of duchess in Lexi’s condition would keep them both busy for six or seven months. If Prinny allowed it, Melissa wanted to remain at Starcliff Castle with her sister.
Melissa tied her hair into a loose bun with nothing but a violet ribbon and stepped to the window. She could overlook the eastern side of the estate, where the stables were and a side entrance… what was that?
A young girl carried a little bundle and peeked up. A baby?
Melissa squinted. The girl was young and dressed modestly but clean from Melissa’s vantage point, at least. She’d walked, so she must be from the nearby village.
Then, from the main house, Dustin emerged next to John, followed by Herbert. They took the girl to the stables.
What were they doing with the baby?
Melissa dashed out of her chambers and ran down the stairs, through the corridor, and out of the same door closest to the stables.
And what she saw there couldn’t have surprised her more.
A baby lay on a wooden table covered in crisp white linens, but it was not a human one. It was a little white and gray kitten with brown stripes, no more than a few weeks old. The kitten made an adorable squeal and rubbed its light pink nose against the girl.
“Is he weaned?” Dustin asked. John stood to the side, his arms crossed.
“Not yet, Doctor. Ahem, milord. Your Grace,” the girl stuttered, but neither Dustin nor Herbert seemed perturbed by her lack of formal address.
How refreshing compared to Prinny’s court.
Only John arched a brow, but it seemed to melt into a warm gaze when he saw Melissa.
Melissa stepped closer. Dustin gave her a nod, acknowledging her presence, but Herbert only narrowed his eyes.
The girl cradled the small tom cat in her arms, and Melissa instinctively approached it, touching its feather-soft fur. He barely lifted his gray-brown and white striped head, his soft purrs replaced by faint, pitiful mews as he tried to find comfort. His snout was white, but his ears were dark gray. What lovely coloring this kitten had—unusual and unique.
“May I?” Melissa asked. “I grew up having cats in the house. I’ve always loved them.”
And this was an exceptionally pretty one indeed, with chocolate-brown stripes, light gray hues, and tiny white paws. But Melissa’s heart constricted when she realized something was amiss. His pink nose was dry and warm, starkly contrasting with a healthy cat’s usual cool, damp feel. She gently tugged at his back skin, and it was slow to return. “He has a fever.”
Dustin reached for him and rolled him into his back.
The kitten lay listlessly on the table, his blue eyes dull and half-closed. He allowed Dustin to touch his belly, but when Dustin pressed down near the belly button, the kitten screamed.
Melissa winced.
“It’s a hernia of the umbilicus. It happens often in animals,” Dustin said. “We will need to make an incision and push the protrusion back, then suture him up and make sure he cannot scratch the spot. Would you like to leave him here until we remove the stitches?” Dustin spoke, but the children eyed him with expressions that nearly made Melissa laugh if she hadn’t been so concerned for the kitten.
John, however, looked disapproving.
“And then you can take the kitten home. We’re not a hospital,” John said.
“What he is saying, I believe, is that you could bring the mother here, and we will keep the kitten’s wound clean until we know the surgery went well before you take the kitten home,” Melissa added.
Dustin’s eyes shot to her, and she pursed her lips. She didn’t mean to overstep, but she’d translate “doctor language” into “child.”
“M-my father could bring the mother in his cart,” the girl said, searching Melissa’s eyes as if she were an authority figure. But then she frowned, and her lips quivered.
John tsked, but that earned him a frown from cousin Dustin.
“This has to remain an exception,” John said. “The duke is not a veterinarian.”
“I’m a dentist,” Dustin said lightheartedly as if it didn’t matter what species his patients were and who he operated on—typical Dustin—he just wanted to help if he could.
John deflated. It was scandalous to have a duke with a vocation—besides the dukedom. And it had kept him busy for years; how would Dustin find the time to run his little clinic here while running the estate?
“Dustin, a word?” John stepped to the back corner of the stable, and his cousin followed him, the little kitten in hand.
“I know what you’re going to say—” Dustin started, readjusting the kitten that fit into one of his hands. “But he needs help quickly. It’s a simple procedure and can save his life.” Dustin held the kitten to John’s face, bringing the tiny blue eyes to his level.
“A duke operating on a kitten,” John said, shaking his head. His view of his cousin was blocked by the sad little face, with the nearly transparent whiskers sticking out on either side of his snout. Then he meowed faintly, like a whimpering baby. As the kitten’s soft cries weaved through the air, a delicate tremor loosened the stone-like clench of his jaw, and John sighed. “It’s unheard of, Dustin.”
“Well, first of all, that’s not a bad thing. And second, I don’t have to operate; Herbert can do it.”
“What?” He was a child. He didn’t have medical training. And what if something happened to the kitten? How would Herbert feel? John reluctantly accepted Herbert’s interest in medicine—secretly welcomed it, even. That was why he’d invested with the Rehabilitation Center at Cloverdale House as soon as Dustin had told him what the doctors on Harley Street were planning in London. It was an excellent place for an apprenticeship if Herbert wished to pursue one while helping their tenants in the meantime. But performing an operation on a living creature at age thirteen?
“I’ll guide him. It will go over well and quickly.” With these words, Dustin handed John the kitten and walked back to where Melissa stood with Herbert and Laura, spreading a clean muslin cloth over the makeshift table. Cradled in the expansive warmth of his hands, the tiny kitten burrowed deeper, its delicate purr vibrating against his palms. At that moment, John’s eyes met Melissa’s, and her face brightened with a knowing smile.
Yes, I’m too lenient. Soft-hearted even.
He handed her the kitten, patted it on the head once more, and nodded to Herbert. His son instantly sprang to action.
“What do I have to do, Uncle Dustin?” Herbert asked as he pushed up his sleeves.
“We are preparing for the surgery, but we must ready a hospital bed for the kitten,” Dustin said. “The recovery is just as important as the procedure itself.”
“I have a basket in my chamber,” Melissa said. Then she blushed. “In the chamber assigned to me while I am a guest here, I mean. There’s a wicker basket, and we could drape some extra curtain fabric over a pillow. He could stay with me.”
“You’re staying?” John asked, trying not to betray the hopeful excitement in his voice.
Melissa blushed. “If I may?”
Melissa was surprised when John’s eyes sparkled, and he gave her a bright smile as if she’d said something that made him incredibly happy.
“You can stay, too,” Herbert said to the girl. Dustin cocked his head, and his eyes met Melissa’s. Herbert’s invitation sounded rather hopeful that the girl would stay.
Melissa suppressed a sigh. Herbert still had much to learn about women; offering them a spot in his stables was not something… argh!
“I’ll be here to help. You may visit every day,” Melissa said, translating the boy’s clumsiness for the girl. They were at that awkward age. She gently touched the girl’s shoulder to reassure her that she would keep an eye on the kitten.
The girl gave a wistful smile. “Thank you.”
Dustin put on a waxed apron. He must still forget that he’s the duke and not merely the doctor—not that anyone was merely a doctor or a duke. But there was something about the way he carried himself in his doctor’s coat, hands steady and voice calm, that felt unshakable. He took command of the room without effort or pretense, as if he belonged in that role more than anywhere else. Yet, when he sat stiffly in the duke’s fine, tailored attire, surrounded by elegance and expectation, his assuredness seemed to falter. To Melissa, it was clear—he wore his title like a suit that didn’t quite fit, but his role as a healer clung to him like a second skin. That was why Melissa recognized Dustin’s qualities and was happy for her sister when she found such a lovely husband. He was more than lovely.
Melissa thought about John. He was so much more than lovely, too. And perfect for her.
“I thought you were just a dentist?” Herbert said when Dustin gave the kitten a spoon of medicine. It was an amber liquid, and the cat shook when he swallowed it.
“When I studied, the first two years were general medicine and chemistry. I didn’t know yet that I’d specialize in the mouth and tried to see as many surgeries as I could. Sometimes, I assisted.”
“Is that why you decided to focus on the mouth then?” Melissa asked, reaching out for the cat’s head when his head drooped. The kitten’s sides rose and fell unevenly with each labored breath, his tiny body exhausted. She suspected the spoon of laudanum would make the animal sleepy.
“It was because of my father’s mistakes, but my path took me in a different direction,” Dustin said as he seemed to prepare his four-legged patient with skill and care. He positioned the kitten on its side and gingerly spread its skinny legs.
“What’s his name?” Herbert asked the girl.
“Angus.” She blushed, and Herbert blinked his boyish eyes, but there was a manly glimmer that Melissa rather thought she recognized before he did. “And I’m Laura Smith.” It was plain for Melissa to see Herbert smitten with the girl.
Dustin covered the kitten’s legs with a clean white muslin. The cat protested slightly, but then the girl put her face to the cat’s and soothed it with a gentle humming. Melissa noticed Herbert’s eyes darting to hers and glistening.
“That’s what my mother sang for me.” His voice cracked.
Melissa and Dustin locked their gazes, and Dustin mumbled something about speaking to John about growing up and boys, but Melissa thought it better not to comment. It was plain to see that Herbert was in the process of giving his heart away for the first time—something equally special and precious, fragile really, just like the little kitten on the table.