Three Weeks With Lady X (21 page)

Lala would have to marry Dautry and live in this perfectly frightful museum of a house, crammed with fancy furniture and servants.

Dautry was bringing his friend across the room toward them. “Lady Rainsford, Lady Xenobia, and Miss Rainsford, may I present an old friend of mine, Lord Brody? Lady Adelaide, I believe you have met this reprobate before.”

Lord Brody dropped back and made his leg, bowing to Lady Adelaide, whom he greeted like a favorite aunt. As he bowed to Lala’s mother, she became girlishly vivacious, recounting the time when they met before. “In fact, you shared a meal with my darling daughter!” she said.

Lady Xenobia showed no overt signs of being awestruck to meet a future duke, but Lord Brody was obviously intrigued by her. He bent his head to the side, as if he saw something he’d never seen before.

Lala knew why, too. Lady Xenobia was astonishingly lovely, with more hair than Lala had imagined one woman could have, all of it piled on top of her head. Plus, she’d painted her lips, and with her beauty mark, and the way her upper lip formed a perfect bow . . . She was probably the most sensual woman Lala had ever seen.

Her mother’s sharp elbow dug into her side. “Why are you staring at Lady Xenobia?” Lady Rainsford hissed. “You’re making a fool of yourself!”

Lala turned hastily back to the conversation about palpitations, only to find that they had moved on to talk of female ailments. Her mother dated all her problems to the birth of her two daughters.

Mr. Dautry, Lord Brody, and Lady Xenobia were having such a lively conversation that they kept breaking into laughter—even Mr. Dautry, who usually looked as if he never smiled, let alone laughed. After a bit, the duke and duchess joined them and all five stood about being clever, while Lala sat, hiding her bottom in a chair and thinking about how she’d like to plummet through the floor into the wine cellars.

“The blood!” her mother said, fanning herself. “You would not believe the blood!”

Lady Adelaide looked queasy; she had no children, and she probably didn’t welcome these details. Lala had heard it all before. She had already decided that if she ever gave birth, she was going to drink a gallon of laudanum and wake up the next morning.

The door opened again, and the butler entered. Lala began wondering if anyone would notice if she choked due to lack of air and died right there. Probably not. Though her mother might notice, insomuch as it would diminish her audience.

When Lala looked up again, she discovered, standing directly in front of her, the very embodiment of the man she had always wanted to marry. He wasn’t young, but he wasn’t old either. His eyes were navy blue, with wrinkles at the corners that showed he knew how to smile. He was almost bald, and she could tell with one look that he wouldn’t have a hairy chest. And he wasn’t as imposing as Mr. Dautry. He was probably only a few inches taller than she was.

The butler was introducing Dr. Hatfield and the doctor was bowing and saying that he would be most happy to treat her mother while she was in residence at Starberry. In fact, if she agreed, he would like to conduct a preliminary consultation now.

Her mother’s eyes shifted, and Lala could see that she was rethinking the seriousness of her palpitations; after all, she was sitting with Lady Adelaide, while a duke and duchess stood close by.

“My mother will not agree to see you, Dr. Hatfield,” Lala said, standing, “because she would never put her health in front of the enjoyment of others. But I must insist that you do examine her; she had palpitations all morning in the carriage.”

Lady Adelaide bounced to her feet as well, likely happy to be released from a discussion of childbirth gore. “Our health is tremendously important after we reach the change of life, don’t you think?”

Lala’s mother gave Lady Adelaide a look so disdainful that it could have frozen lemonade. Her ladyship didn’t appear to notice, and somehow all three of them, followed by the doctor, left the room and went up the stairs. Lala wasn’t quite sure why Lady Adelaide was escorting them, but she was grateful for it; her mother was always more restrained in the presence of other ladies.

Once they were in Lady Rainsford’s bedchamber, Lady Adelaide seated herself to the side while Lala stood by the bed and watched. Dr. Hatfield went through the various motions that she’d seen forty or fifty doctors do in her lifetime. He asked questions, listened to her mother’s chest, and took her pulse.

Her mother talked on and on. Dr. Hatfield had looked at Lala only once, swiftly, when her mother explained that even though it might lead to a palpitation that could prove the end of her, her maternal desire to see Lala settled in life had led to the enormous step of leaving Dr. Belview’s care for a week.

Dr. Hatfield had beautiful eyes and a long, lean face that matched his lanky body. He was perfect: masculine without being overly so. Watching, Lala tried desperately to keep her breathing slow and even, because it wasn’t panic she was feeling now. It was something else, something far more pleasurable.

When the doctor straightened, Lala held her breath. This was the point at which medical practitioners either ruined everything by announcing that Lady Rainsford wasn’t ill at all, or patted her mother’s hand and told her that she needed rest and good care, then charged two pounds and promised to return the next day to collect another payment.

She wanted him to be the first sort. But she also wanted him to be the second sort.

He did neither. Instead, he turned to Lala. “Miss Rainsford, what do you think?” he asked.

She gulped. “What do I think of my mother’s health?” No one had ever asked her that.

“I find that the most perceptive observers of the ill are family members. A daughter can understand, better than a stranger, her mother’s condition.”

Somehow, Lala found her tongue. “My mother is quite ill,” she said firmly. And that was true. When her mother got that spiraling look in her eyes and her voice rose, no one could doubt that something was genuinely wrong.

Dr. Hatfield nodded, his eyes grave, and turned back to his patient. “I shall visit you again tomorrow morning, the better to monitor your health, Lady Rainsford. I think you would do best to stay in your chamber and rest for at least two to three days. I’m afraid this visit will be far too taxing for your heart.”

Lady Adelaide jumped to her feet. “There is no reason to be concerned, Dr. Hatfield. I will be sure to keep your patient comfortable and happy. My dear Lady Rainsford, you will join the party in a few days, when you are feeling stronger.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” Lady Rainsford rarely spent time in bed. There was, Lala thought cynically, no audience in a bedchamber.

“You must think of your health above all else,” Lady Adelaide said firmly. “I shall check on you regularly throughout the day, and Dr. Hatfield will visit every morning. That nice butler Fleming can appoint a footman to wait in the corridor, so your maid will be able to ask for anything you might like.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Lady Rainsford said. “Lala can simply run down the stairs.”

“Oh, but dear Lala will be with the party,” Lady Adelaide said, smiling brightly. “I know that the last thing you would want is to prevent your darling daughter from enjoying the country.”

“I recommend absolute quiet,” the doctor said. “Peacefulness. You may ask your daughter to read to you for an hour in the afternoon if you wish, but other than that, I should like you to remain quite calm and entertain only an occasional visitor.”

Lady Rainsford laughed, and before Lala drew a breath, she said, “My daughter can’t read, so
that
won’t happen.”

“
I
shall read to you,” Lady Adelaide said swiftly, as Lala tried to blink back tears of pure humiliation.

Her mother wouldn’t reveal such a thing in front of Mr. Dautry. Would she?

Dr. Hatfield met Lala’s eyes and asked kindly, “I trust you do not have a problem with your vision, Miss Rainsford?”

She shook her head miserably. If only stupidity could be cured with spectacles, she would wear them happily.

Dr. Hatfield bent over the bed once more, hand on her mother’s wrist. “I am quite worried by the agitation of your pulse, Lady Rainsford. Those with a weak heart often overtax themselves, not realizing that their loved ones would actually prefer that they live a long and happy life.”

Lady Rainsford opened her mouth again, but this time Lala jumped in. “Mama, I must beg you to take advantage of this opportunity to rest and recover from the journey. This chamber is charming.”

Indeed, it was. A tall window stood open to the warm afternoon breeze, which carried in the fragrance of flowers. The walls were covered in a delicate patterned silk, and the rug on the floor glowed in the sunlight.

Lala had never been in such a tasteful bedchamber in her life, and she didn’t think her mother had either. Well, at least not since those lauded days when her mother had served as a lady-in-waiting to the queen. Lala happened to know that her term of service had been a mere two months, but to hear her mother tell it, she had been the queen’s most beloved companion.

“You needn’t worry about your daughter,” Lady Adelaide was saying. “I shall chaperone her fiercely, my dear,
fiercely
. I have done the same for Lady Xenobia, and I am proud to say that, even given Lady Xenobia’s adventuresome constitution, not a hint of scandal has ever been breathed about her.”

“Well, as to that,” Lala’s mother said, her voice sharpening, as it did when she was about to impart unpleasant news.

But Dr. Hatfield moved forward and said, “Lady Rainsford, I do not want you to stir from this bed for two days or I cannot be responsible for the consequences. Do you understand me?”

Lala saw her mother’s eyes grow large.

“Yes, Doctor.”

He bowed once again and headed for the door. Lala hurried after him, glad that she had her reticule, because she needed to pay him. And thank him, if she could think how to phrase it correctly.

In the end, it wasn’t hard to thank him, because he refused to hear it. And he refused payment as well, but merely looked at her and asked, “What happens when you try to read?”

His eyes were so sympathetic that Lala told him the truth. “Nothing happens,” she confessed. “I can see letters and numbers, just like anyone else. I simply can’t remember which ones go where. I’m too—I’m too stupid for that.” The last part came out in a whisper, even lower than she normally spoke, because she wished she didn’t have to say it. Not to a man like this.

He had taken his hat from the butler and put it on. But he looked down at her, with his serious face and those beautiful navy eyes, and said, “Miss Rainsford, I am quite certain that you are not stupid.”

That was very kind of him. If untrue. “Please don’t suggest that you can teach me to read,” she said, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Fleming had taken himself away, and they were alone in the entry. “My parents paid dearly for tutor after tutor, but I simply can’t do it.”

“No, I suspect you’ll never be able to read,” he said briskly.

Lala swallowed hard. She knew it; everyone knew it. Still, it was painful to hear, especially from him.

“You’re likely not seeing the letters in the same order as everyone else. Or you see them in a different order each time.”

“I do see them in the same order as others. I can read aloud the individual letters.” She could feel her cheeks glowing. “At any rate, Dr. Hatfield, I want to thank you again for your kind attentiveness to my mother. I know she’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Lady Xenobia popped her head out of the drawing room and said, “Good afternoon, Dr. Hatfield! I trust Lady Rainsford is simply weary from the journey? Lala, once you have seen the doctor off, I thought you might join us. We’re starting a game of whist, and you can partner Mr. Dautry.” She disappeared again.

“Can you play?” the doctor asked.

Lala shook her head. The numbers on playing cards rattled around and slid off the cards, the same way that letters did from pages. “I’ll make an excuse.” She began to drop a curtsy, but he caught her arm.

“You needn’t curtsy to a country doctor.”

Another stupid mistake. By now, she was probably as red as a brightly painted children’s ball. “I apologize.”

“You needn’t apologize either.” His hand tightened. “You’re to
partner
Mr. Dautry?”

She met his eyes, knowing that her utter misery was undisguised. “Yes,” she whispered, managing a wobbly smile. She’d never had such an odd conversation in her life, but the important thing was that Dr. Hatfield wasn’t disgusted by her inability to read or play cards. By her stupidity, in other words.

She could tell from the way he looked at her. Just as she could tell that he felt sorry for her, because he had guessed she was supposed to marry Mr. Dautry, and he didn’t think they’d suit.

“I’m going on rounds this afternoon,” he said. “Would you like to accompany me?”

“Rounds?”

“I go about to see my patients.” He jerked his head toward the open door and his vehicle, a dilapidated black carriage.

Lala looked down at her morning dress and her slippers. His gaze followed hers.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, his eyes going flat. “Miss Rainsford, I apologize for such an untoward request. I must bid you good day.”

“I couldn’t go without a chaperone,” she said, a little breathlessly.

His mouth tightened.

“Just a maid,” she added. “And my bonnet! Wait, please wait. Just a moment.”

Fleming miraculously reappeared and produced her bonnet as well as a maid, because Lala didn’t have a lady’s maid. And asking if her mother’s maid could accompany her would ensure that Lady Rainsford learned of her daughter’s improper excursion.

She was almost in the carriage before it occurred to her that she ought to leave notice with someone other than the butler. She ran back to the house, ignoring the fact that Dr. Hatfield would be able to see her from behind, and said breathlessly to Fleming, “Please tell Lady Adelaide that I’ve gone on rounds.” She turned without waiting for an answer.