A Christmas Wedding Wager (20 page)

'I have been lucky. The right place at the right time with the right amount of grit and determination.'

'You make it sound like something anyone can do.' Emma gave a little laugh, more of a hiccup. 'No one amasses such a great fortune easily.'

'It was not easy. I gave my blood, sweat and tears.' Jack's face was grim, his lips white and his eyes shadowed. 'Do you think I would have lasted long if I had cheated men? Would men such as Stephenson have made me their partner?'

Emma shook her head slowly.

'I build my bridges and levees to last. I have done the same with my business. Its foundation is integrity, not deceit.'

Emma regarded her gloves. She had not really considered it in that light before, but she could understand what he was saying. She wanted to believe him. 'But your reputation in the press...'

'A man gets a certain reputation. I drive a hard bargain, yes, but it is always an honest one.'

Emma looked at him. Her heart whispered that she knew what sort of man he was. She needed no proof. 'What you say makes a certain amount of sense, but then I am an acid-tongued spinster.'

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. 'Thank you for that.'

'But this offer you have made my father--does it stand now that you have discovered the truth?'

'It is a fair offer. More than generous in the circumstances.'

Jack named the figure. Emma raised her eyebrows and her lungs filled with life-giving oxygen. Dr Milburn had been wrong. Jack was not about to cheat her father. 'And after what you have learnt tonight?'

'I want you to know that it stands whatever happens tonight. I put the offer in writing when I first arrived here. It won't be rescinded simply for me to make money in the short term. It is the long-term health of my businesses that I care about.'

Emma stared at him, allowing his words to sink in. He knew about her father's illness but did not intend to lower his price. Relief washed over her. Her shoulders eased. She hadn't realised they were tight. The burden she had been carrying for so long, ever since her father's first turn, had gone. Her head seemed positively giddy. Words failed her, and she stared at Jack.

'Thank you,' she whispered, reaching for his fingers and squeezing them as his eyes softened.

It seemed to be enough. Suddenly she knew she had the strength to climb the stairs and face her father, face whatever ordeal lay before her.

'Miss Emma, Miss Emma.' Annie came hurrying into the room. Her cap was askew and her apron crumpled. Emma was hard pressed to remember when she had ever seen Annie anything but perfectly turned out. 'We have been so worried. But the master would have none of us calling for you. He wanted you to have fun, to enjoy the pantomime. You have little enough of that sort of thing, he said.'

'Tell me everything, Annie. Don't spare me.' Emma pushed her curls behind her ears. 'I should never have gone tonight.'

'It were a right to-do, like.' Annie's placid face creased, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Emma put her arm around the distressed maid. 'I never heard the like. It was right after he finished his bottle of Dr Milburn's tonic, or so Fackler says. Turned all purple and gasping for breath. I was certain he was a goner.'

'Miss Harrison needs to know his exact symptoms, Annie,' Jack said. 'Tell her in plain, simple language. We know that Mr Harrison is still alive and sleeping. We both saw him resting.'

'You are right, sir.' Annie bobbed a little curtsey. 'As I was saying...'

Emma listened intently while Annie related the evening's events. From the recounting, it appeared her father's fit had followed its usual terrifying course.

'I will sit with him for a while.' Emma started towards the stairs.

'He is sleeping like a lamb.' Annie held her nose and wafted the air with her hand. 'But his breath smells of garlic, like. And he ain't had any garlic. I checked with Cook. He barely touched his food today. His stomach was paining him that badly, and he said his mouth tasted like he ate steel. He finished his tonic tonight, no questions asked. Drained the bottle. It was then the attack happened.'

'That settles it,' Jack remarked decisively, his face suddenly wearing a very determined look.

'Settles what?' Emma asked in surprise. 'What are you talking about, Jack?'

'Do his turns always happen after he has finished a bottle of tonic?'

Emma tilted her head to one side, thinking back to the attacks. 'Yes, I think you are right.

Does it signify anything?'

'It might do, but I need to know more.' Jack started to pace the room. 'Tell me everything you can remember about his most recent attacks.'

Emma explained, going back over the symptoms several times. When she had finished, she looked at him. His brow was furrowed. He had made several notes on a piece of paper and was reading them over. Did he really care about what happened to her father?

'What should we do? Can I go up and see my father?'

He jumped slightly, as if he had forgotten she was there.

'Do? You go up and see your father. Put your mind at ease. Leave Milburn to me.' He crossed his arms. 'I have some questions I want answered. Once they are answered, then the doctor can see his patient.'

'But...but...' Emma hesitated on the bottom stair.

'For once in your life, Emma, please do as I ask.' His hand enveloped hers. 'Trust me.'

Emma stared at him, met his intense gaze full-on, but hers was the first to falter. She had to trust him. She wanted to trust him. 'Send Dr Milburn up when he arrives.'

Emma gathered her skirts and raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Jack watched her go, then rang for Fackler. He would do what was necessary. Dr Milburn would only see Harrison once Jack was certain. 'Do you have the tonic bottle? The one Mr Harrison finished tonight.'

'It can be found, Mr Stanton.' The butler's face was perfectly schooled.

'With all speed and diligence, Fackler.'

'With all speed, sir.'

Jack smiled inwardly. Fackler thought him slightly unhinged, but it was important to follow his hunches, and the signs pointed to the tonic. Nothing happened without a reason.

Everything obeyed the laws of nature. Everything.

The bell sounded--harsh, insistent. Jack stared at the solid door.

'I want to see Dr Milburn first.' Jack met the butler's stare. 'Miss Emma is not to be disturbed. She has had but a little time with her father.'

'Very good, sir.' Again the butler's face gave no indication that he thought the request odd or out of the ordinary. 'And if I might say so, sir, I don't put a huge store by medicine pedlars. A great big bunch of tomfoolery, if you don't mind me saying so.'

'Thank you, Fackler. I had thought that as well. Some tonics are good, and others--well, it doesn't bear thinking about.' Jack clenched his jaw. He was determined to give Dr Milburn a fair hearing, and as Harrison was now asleep, it would make no difference if he was examined in the morning or now.

'I have come from an important supper,' Dr Milburn pronounced when Fackler barred his way. 'And this man says that I am not required.'

'Please forgive the servants, Milburn, they overreacted.' Jack went to the door. The first few snowflakes drifted down, landing on Milburn's black coat. 'Harrison is resting comfortably after experiencing indigestion at supper.'

Dr Milburn carried his black leather bag in one hand and had a white silk scarf wrapped around his neck--the very picture of a successful doctor. His eyes slowly travelled up Jack's form. A tiny smile played on his thin lips.

'My patient is ill, Stanton.' He made an imperious gesture. 'Stand aside.'

Jack braced his feet and met Milburn's glassy gaze. With effort, he retained control of his temper.

'Your patient is resting. From what I know, sleep is often the best healer.'

'And what are you now? A doctor as well as an engineer?' The sneer on Milburn's face increased. 'For a charity boy, you express your opinion on a wide range of matters.'

'Out in the wild, you have to. Your men's lives depend on it,' Jack answered, allowing the charity remark to pass. He had proved his worth a thousand times over; no jumped-up doctor would take that away. Milburn wanted a reaction. 'I know what I am on about. Do you?'

'For the love of God, man, let me pass,' Milburn said, his voice thundering. 'I have work to do. A man's life depends on me and my skill.'

'I think not.' Jack lounged against the doorframe, giving the impression of great casualness, but in reality every muscle was ready to spring.

'What did you say? Are you threatening me? Me? A member of the Royal College of Physicians? How dare you?'

Milburn raised his bag, but Jack reached out and grabbed his wrist, holding him there.

'I dare all right.' Jack pushed the arm away. 'You forget yourself, Milburn, and you forget who you are dealing with.'

Neither man moved. The sound of his breathing, of Milburn's, echoed about him. Then Milburn blinked and lowered his bag, his shoulders slightly hunched.

'I have been summoned.' He tried again, his face flushing slightly. He spoke each word as if he were speaking to a backward child. 'Miss Harrison desires me to see her father.'

'You were summoned mistakenly. By the servants. Miss Harrison was with me this evening.'

'With you?' Milburn opened and closed his mouth several times.

'At a pantomime. The Charltons were in the party.'

'No one informed me of this,' Milburn muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

'I did not know either of the Harrisons were in the habit of telling you their social engagements,' Jack said through a clenched jaw.

Milburn blinked. A cold smile spread over his features. 'You are quite right, of course, Stanton. I have no claim over Miss Harrison...yet. But I do have hopes. Miss Harrison, despite her plain looks, would make an admirable helpmate for a doctor, don't you agree?'

Jack stared at Milburn. Emma? Plain? Infuriating. Maddening. Obstinate. But not plain. Her beauty might be unconventional, but he found it very pleasing to the eye. And her mind was first-rate. She had matured into an excitingly attractive woman. She deserved someone who appreciated her.

'If Harrison's condition has failed to improve by morning I will personally come for you.

Until then, I suggest you go home.' Jack restrained his fist with difficulty.

'You are playing a dangerous game, Stanton.' The doctor's sneer resembled that of a snake.

His eyes glittered. 'Harrison's condition is complex and complicated. I would hate to think anything untoward had happened to him because you refused me entry.'

'It is a risk I am prepared to take.' Jack moved solidly in front of the door. He clung onto his temper, dared Milburn to make another move.

The sneer on Milburn's face increased, became more pronounced. 'It is on your head, Stanton, if Harrison dies since you play at doctoring. I will be quite happy to say as much to the authorities.'

'I welcome the responsibility.' Jack stared hard at the arrogant doctor. Emma as a dutiful helpmate to him! Impossible. Ridiculous. He refused to allow it.

'Until the morning, then. I pray to God that the patient lasts that long.' Dr Milburn stalked off to the waiting carriage.

'Old crow,' Fackler muttered under his breath as he banged the door shut. 'As you said, Mr Stanton, there weren't no need to call him out. I should never have listened to that Annie.'

'Miss Emma seems to set store by him.' Jack tried to keep his voice light. 'Their names have been bandied together.'

'Miss Emma?' Fackler shook his head. 'She don't like him. Not in that way. It were the late mistress, Mrs Harrison. She did set store by him. Called him her ministering angel. Wouldn't hear a word spoken against him. Not by nobody.'

Jack squared his shoulders and faced the butler. 'Mrs Harrison is dead. It is Mr Harrison and his daughter I am concerned with.'

Her father lay in the centre of the double bed. His face pasty but peaceful against the white sheet. No rattling, no wheezing, just the steady breath of peaceful sleep. Annie was correct.

His breathing was even and regular. There was no reason to disturb Dr Milburn. Emma offered up a prayer of thanksgiving.

Whatever her father had had, it had passed--just as it had done every other time. The fit had gone and he would be restored to the land of the living. But for how long? When should she tell him that he was dying? That Dr Milburn held out little hope? That she had confided everything in Jack? She would have to say something. Or Jack would.

She drew a sharp breath. Everything she had worked for these past few months gone. Her father had to survive--that was the main thing. Everything else could wait.

She was not ready to become an orphan.

'Papa, stay with me. Don't go to Mama.'

Emma stumbled forward and laid her head against the coverlet, her strong fingers curling around her father's limp ones.

'I have seen the good doctor,' Jack said, coming into the room.

Emma jumped up and made a show of securing the coverlet more tightly around her father.

She brushed away the glint of tears and straightened her crumpled dress.

'Where is he?' Emma peered around Jack, trying to see the doctor's looming figure. 'Dr Milburn should be here by now. I distinctly heard the bell earlier. Why is he taking his time?

Generally Fackler sends him straight up.'

Jack came closer. In the firelight, a pair of scissors gleamed in his hands. His face wore that same determined expression he'd had when he rescued Davy. 'I sent him away. His services were not required.'

'Sent him away?' Emma rolled her eyes heavenwards, choked back the anger. She had to remain calm. Shouting at Jack was going to make matters worse, but right now she wanted to throttle him. Of all the high-handed--! 'Why did you do that? How could you do that?'

'Your father is resting comfortably. After the shock he had, it is probably the best thing for him.' He paused and looked at her father's bedside table, where a variety of bottles and boxes stood along with a half-used candlestick. 'If needs be, Dr Milburn can call in the morning. I will personally fetch him. I think he is hoping to be able to say I told you so.'