Chapter 6
“Lady Maria! Welcome back, my Lady!” Rosie greeted Maria at the door of the orphanage.
She opened the door wide, stepping aside without hesitation.
“The doctor is asleep after going without for two days caring for the little ones,” Rosie said, “so he will not be able to object to you being here.”
“I would like to see him try, doctor or not,” Maria said.
Rosie gasped when Maria limped through the door, the light of the lantern she held illuminating Maria’s injury.
“It is nothing, Rosie. A fall from the trap. Is Gilbert awake?” she said, walking along the corridor as quickly as her ankle would allow.
“All asleep last time I checked,” Rosie said, “about an hour ago. Quinine has done the job for now. His little forehead feels cooler, and the olive wood smoke has helped his chest. I’m just hoping he has the strength to fight off the rest.”
Maria stopped just inside the dormitory as her cane made a loud clack against the tiled floor. She leaned it against the door and hobbled along, leaning on the end of each bed as she made her way to where Gilbert lay.
She lowered herself to the end of his bed, taking the weight off her foot gratefully. He was stirring, curled up beneath his bedclothes in a ball. Carefully, she brushed his hair from his face, feeling the difference in his temperature just as Rosie had said.
Still far too warm, though, and no sweat, which is not good. If he was sweating, it would mean the fever had broken.
She listened to his wheezing breath, feeling each haggard inhalation as a physical pain.
She desperately wanted to take all of his pain upon herself.
Her shoulders were strong enough to bear it for him.
That she could not broke her heart. Maria waited for a long time, stroking his hair and watching him sleep.
She wanted him to wake so that he would know she had been there, but knew this to be a selfish wish.
“He needs his sleep, poor lamb,” Rosie whispered.
“Not out of the woods yet,” Maria replied just as softly.
“Not by a long chalk, my lady.”
And even if he did recover, would he have a place to live unless Maria intervened?
To defeat fever now would only be delaying the inevitable if he then ended up on the streets, particularly when the English winter set in.
She would not allow it. She kissed her fingertips and bestowed the kiss on his forehead before walking back, with Rosie’s help.
“He means an awful lot to you, my lady,” Rosie said.
“Yes.”
“Do you have children of your own?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I thought recently that I soon would,” Maria did not explain further.
Rosie’s face softened with sympathy. “Men!” she huffed.
“The source of all our ills,” Maria said.
“And the cure for some of them. That nice young doctor helped Doctor Drayford for several hours.”
Maria’s lips twitched in amusement, for she knew well how infuriated her father would be if she elected to marry a physician. “Doctor Hale? He seems a decent man.”
“Are you going home now, my lady?” Rosie asked as they returned to the front door.
Maria hesitated. She disliked lying, even over little matters, but she knew that the truth was complicated. It would take so much time to explain.
“Yes, home,” she said with a sad smile.
The door closed behind her, and she made her slow way across the yard towards the carriage that had brought her from Evelina’s house. She stopped suddenly as she looked up to realize that it had gone.
I did ask the driver to wait. Didn’t I? I could not have been inside for so long that he thought I was not returning.
She became aware of a shadow cast by the wall surrounding the orphanage, which contained a deeper darkness. It moved, and Maria raised her cane, her throat tightening so that she was not sure she could scream even if she wanted to.
The Duke of Winterleigh stepped out of the shadows. He wore a broad-brimmed hat that was pulled down to shade the half of his face that was masked. His coat was long, flowing as he moved like a cloak. He wore black, and the unmasked half of his face was pale in the moonlight.
“Your Grace!” Maria said, the realization of who it was not alleviating her anxiety.
If anything, the realization seemed to heighten her sense of unease. Her blood roared in her ears, and her pulse jumped madly. She inhaled sharply, her knees going weak from the force of her emotions. Seeing the man unexpectedly left her uneven and unsteady.
“Lady Maria. I thought I would take a look at this orphanage of yours myself.”
With a start, she realized that they were alone in the dark. There was no one who might see any discretions committed, any sins made, and a wild thought seized her. He could kiss her, embrace her, and even—God forgive her for thinking it—engage in some secret amorous congress.
“It is just a building from the outside,” she said, struggling to force away the treacherous thoughts. “You would need to speak to the children to truly see the place and what it does.”
“No,” he said.
She took a step toward him, her gaze darting to his pale, full lips. A lump rose in her throat.
What am I thinking? I cannot let myself be distracted from my goal! Where are these thoughts coming from?
“They would not like that,” His Grace added.
“They accept anyone who shows them kindness. Children are blind.”
“To deformity?”
Maria studied him as he stood there, out of place. Yet he had come to see the orphanage. And for what? A word he had given her to protect this place. Perhaps he had meant it… The thought unsettled her more than his sudden appearance.
“Are you deformed?”
“Even grown men who have seen my face draw back in fear.”
She didn’t answer.
What did it mean that she still thought of kissing him? She was near enough to do it, and although it was dark, her body quivered with the intensity of his gaze. The silence stretched long enough that Maria felt her breath catch. She swallowed and cleared her throat.
“Did you send my driver away?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
For a heartbeat, he merely stared at her.
Maria’s heart beat like a caged bird against her ribs.
Had his thoughts gone the same direction as hers?
He took a step toward her, and they were only a hairsbreadth away from being indecently close.
His breath came in warm puffs of air against her face, and although her senses screamed for her to retreat, it was as though some strange enchantment held her in place.
“I wish to talk to you of my offer,” he said in his low, rumbling voice. “I will not do that standing in the yard of a poorhouse.”
“It is not a poorhouse!” Maria snapped, angry at the belittling of a place that was so important to her.
If her temper offended him, the duke did not show it. “My carriage is beyond the gates. It would not be wise for you to walk these streets alone again so close to where you were assaulted.”
He turned without waiting for a reply and walked away. The spell that warmed her blood broke at once, and she flushed with embarrassment for the inappropriate direction of her thoughts. Maria stood for a moment, collecting herself, and then limped after him.
He is the rudest, most infuriating man I have ever met! But… If not for what I know of him, I could almost believe he’s worried for me.
A black carriage pulled by two restive coal black horses awaited.
The door was open. Maria hesitated at the step, but he reached out and seized her arm.
His grip was firm, but not unkind, and her breath hitched at the sudden, unexpected touch.
She was hauled bodily into the carriage without any apparent effort from the duke and deposited on a seat.
He was startlingly strong. Warmth rushed to her face, as she settled onto the seat across from him. Dozens of objections swam in her mind. She was a lady. Even if they were to be married, they were not yet husband and wife. This behavior was not respectable.
But another part of Maria, a part which she did not wish to acknowledge, found a peculiar delight in the scandalous position of being alone with this strong and mysterious man. It was as if she was the heroine of some novel embarking on some salacious and exciting adventure.
“Thank you for the help and for saving me the breath needed to ask,” Maria said wryly.
A low, almost inaudible chuckle escaped the duke.
It had an almost supernatural effect on Maria.
She bit back her words instinctively. She felt pinned in her seat by his shadowed eyes, feeling them upon her as though he was caressing her naked body.
Maria shivered and resisted the impulse to wrap her arms around herself.
“Your situation is dire. The scandal will be growing, like a wave out at sea. Unless you’re shielded, it will sweep you away. I can shield you.”
“Do you seek to pressure me, Your Grace?” Maria asked, breathlessly.
If he did wish to pressure her, she ought to be vexed. A respectable lady would be; however, she found the idea instead alluring.
“I seek to focus your mind on reality. I could be a considerable benefactor to your precious orphanage.”
His voice was deep but rough-edged, as though he had never learned or had forgotten the niceties of human speech.
Or else that he knew of them and did not care.
Maria could see how marriage would seem to soften the edges in the public eye.
Make him seem more conventional. More palatable.
But how badly did he need it? What terms was he willing to accept in return for her hand?
“I will not be bullied. I will always defend those who cannot speak for themselves,” she replied defiantly.
“Words,” the duke said, quietly, leaning forward.