Chapter 13
Lavender could almost feel the pain of her own burns return when she looked at Jack’s hands.
It was the smell of the carron oil, heavy in the air, like linseed and chalk, that made her feel as if she was fourteen again.
As good as the oil had felt on her damaged skin, it was a reminder of the months of pain following the accident.
To this day, she wasn’t sure if it was the bee sting or her own panic that had caused her throat to close off, but she assumed it was a combination of the two.
When she was much younger, she’d been stung by a bee on her leg, and her breathing had become labored then as well, but it had taken minutes to get to that point.
She’d been able to tell her nurse what had happened.
She shuddered to think about that first time.
The doctor, Mr. Marshall, had been so gentle with her when he’d explained that a bee sting could kill her in the future.
It was then that Rose had taken it upon herself to find a solution to Lavender’s problems. She and her mother had visited with the apothecary about rose waters and then decided to make their own.
Most rose water was used as a perfume, but there were properties in the petals that would help with inflammation.
The rose water that Rose made was undiluted as much as possible so that the effects were strong enough to work quickly.
In reality, Lavender knew that it might not be strong enough to stop the sting from killing her, but it was the one lifeline she’d held to for hope.
So far, her handful of stings hadn’t been fatal.
She’d lived a careful life for a long time.
But she couldn’t be a hermit forever. Nights were her solitude, though she could only spend so much time outside when it was freezing.
Memories crashed over her as she rubbed slow circles on Jack’s back in the kitchen.
She didn’t hear what was happening around her; she simply wanted to provide a modicum of comfort for Jack.
It was a shame that it was his hands—he would be helpless for quite some time from the injuries.
Lavender determined to talk with Miriam about his case.
She wanted to be sure the boy didn’t lose his position for a lack of being able to work in the meantime.
Her heart had warmed more than she cared to admit when Tom had vowed to be his personal servant.
How would it be to have a friend so dedicated to your wellbeing that they would offer such a thing?
It wasn’t in Tom’s job description to care for the other servants of the house, but he hadn’t hesitated. He was a good man.
Lavender didn’t regret showing Jack her scars, but now Tom had seen them as well.
It was likely the last time he would pay her any special attention.
From her experience, people saw them and acted as though she had the plague.
She’d first worn the gloves because her mother had demanded it of her.
But she continued with the practice because the sight made other people uncomfortable, and it was her duty to make sure people around her weren’t upset.
She was supposed to bring peace, even if that meant enduring discomfort at times.
Mr. Lanscombe hadn’t even seen the full extent of her scarring, and still he’d remarked on how disfigured she was because of it.
Maybe that was the real reason her mother hadn’t sent her to London before now.
It was likely that Lavender’s monstrosity of an arm would cause talk, and not of a positive nature.
All this time, Lavender had thought her parents had forgotten about her.
It was an even more sobering thought to believe they might be disgraced or embarrassed by her.
“Lady Lavender,” Mrs. Bitters placed a hand on Lavender’s shoulder.
She shook herself from her melancholy thoughts. “I’m sorry, what did you need?”
“Nothing, my lady. It’s only that Lord Chilcott has come to collect you for a ride through Hyde Park.”
Lavender pulled her brows together. “Lord Chilcott?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I wasn’t expecting him.” She filled her lungs and stood up, fully annoyed by the baron.
Why now? He didn’t have the decency to collect her for their ride when he’d said he would, but she was to accompany him whenever it pleased his schedule?
However, she was in no position to turn away the attention of any man, no matter what commotion was going on in her own heart.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes.
” She turned to Jack and knelt on the floor in front of his chair.
“Talk to me, Jack. How are you feeling?”
Jack’s red rimmed eyes crinkled in the corners. “I was just remembering my mum. She used to rub my back like that. Thank you, Lady Lavender.”
She smiled. “I’m happy to help. You must promise me to listen to Mrs. Bitters and not overwork yourself. Those hands will need a lot of that oil to heal up, so I’d be happy to help you with it in the mornings.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do.” Lavender stood up once again. “I know better than anyone how gentle to be, and what the healing process will look like. Besides, you would be doing me a favor. It would make me feel better to be of assistance.”
Jack nodded. “I’m not in a position to tell you no.”
“I’ll see you later today then.” Lavender pulled on her long white gloves once again, covering up her grotesque arm as much as she could.
If it were winter, she’d wear a shawl to finish the task, but as the summer was becoming unbearably hot, she couldn’t put herself through that particular type of torture.
Aside from all that, her enthusiasm for the outing was not what it likely ought to be. She was glad to finally be making some progress in being courted, but the man had already forgotten their appointment once, did she really want to continue encouraging someone so inconsiderate?
Lord Chilcott was waiting for her in the foyer. “Lady Lavender, how wonderful to see you.”
She forced a smile to her face. “It’s a pleasure to see you as well, my lord. Allow me to retrieve my bonnet, and I will be ready to leave. Oh, I must warn you. I have terrible reactions to bees. Perhaps we can keep our ride short on a day like today?”
He puffed out his chest. “You won’t need to worry with me around.”
She smiled at his attempt to ease her worries and hurried up the stairs to her room, finding her bonnet hanging on a hook just inside her door.
Her hands shook as she tied the ribbons beneath her chin.
She looked over her pale complexion in the mirror.
Jack’s scare had been harrowing for her.
The memory of pain that resurfaced was almost physical.
She took a deep breath and shook her head.
She was well. It was Jack she ought to be concerned about.
She would check on him again as soon as she returned.
Lord Chilcott handed her up into his phaeton with a flair that she’d only seen when one was in the presence of a dandy.
It was a little odd for him to behave as such; he didn’t dress like a dandy.
Lord Chilcott was always loud and surrounded by people, though, like now, his actions seemed like playacting.
Perhaps he was trying to make up for his forgetting their ride a few days ago, but his over-the-top performance made Lavender uneasy.
By the time they turned into the park, Lavender realized she was clutching the seat below her so hard that her hands were sore.
She pried her fingers from the bench and attempted to relax.
But between the scare with Jack and her being forced into Hyde Park in the middle of a hot day, her senses were piqued for any flying insects.
“Does Gilfordshire know where Fenleigh is?” Lord Chilcott asked.
“Excuse me, what?” Lavender tried to anchor herself to his conversation.
“The lost duke. Surely, you’ve heard about it.”
“How could I not? It is all anyone is talking about, in large part due to your efforts, I believe. But I don’t know why you believe I would know anything about it; the Gilfordshire household may be the only one left not talking about the lost duke, or at least not while in my company.
” She watched his face transform into one of annoyance.
“Yes. Well, the fact that everyone is talking about him was not entirely my intention. The man doesn’t need a head any more puffed up than it already is.
To be the talk of the town is likely the reason he disappeared in the first place.
He is never happy with what he has, always searching for more .
. . no matter the cost.” Lord Chilcott’s voice was full of derision.
His tone was a little frightening.
“I never met the Duke of Fenleigh, so I don’t have any insight as to his character.”
“Consider yourself the lucky one,” he mumbled.
“Perhaps we can talk of something more pleasant then. What did you think of the musical the other night? I adored hearing the string quartet that Mrs. Harwood’s sons played together. The youngest could not have been ten. They are such talented boys.”
Lord Chilcott nodded. “I suppose they were.”
Lavender pressed her lips together. “Do you have any musical abilities, my lord?”
“No. Quite frankly, I find music a waste of time.”
“Oh.” What else could she say?
Lord Chilcott’s countenance lighted once again, almost like she was watching a schoolboy receive a sweet from his teacher.
“Lady Lavender,” he smiled widely at her.
“I do hope you’ve been introduced to Miss Carlton.
” He nodded to the open carriage coming up the lane opposite them. “She is delightful.”
“I haven’t had that pleasure.”
“Then by all means, allow me the honor.” He pulled the reins, and his set of horses came to a stop. “Miss Carlton. How are you this fine morning?”