Hello Again! Thank you to all you lovely people who have purchased the ebook version of Duty and Desire off Amazon. It's made the Regency top 100! - Which is only about the 15 000th best selling book on Amazon, but still. ;)
xx Elise
~D&D~
Chapter 6
Hopeful
Alice visited Peter several times in the ensuing days but saw little change. The boy remained pale and listless, sleeping much and eating little.
"His colour's a bit better," Mrs Carter noted as she led Alice to Peter's room towards the end of the second week. "The dark rings under 'is eyes aren't so severe, and 'is appetite 'as picked up. 'e's even getting crotchety—complaining about taking 'is medicine—a good sign if ye ask me. Shows some spirit, which 'e's been sorely lacking."
Alice agreed, leaving behind another bottle of tonic and some of the recently arrived slippery elm powder. She had seen Mr Whitlock ride out on estate business earlier in the day and managed to time her visit for while he was away. It hadn't been deliberate, or so she told herself as she made her way back down the road to the village. Neither was there any reason to be concerned about the continued feeling of discomfort she experienced whenever he was near. He was a handsome man, with his well-honed physique, golden locks, and dashing beard. She had eyes, and there was no point denying the obvious.
It was just that the obvious hadn't affected her in quite the same way before.
It would seem now they were no longer engaged in constant verbal sparring, Mr Whitlock's particular appeal had aroused her feminine sensibilities. She neither approved, appreciated, nor had any intention of acknowledging the attraction . . . well, to anyone but herself. It was a darned nuisance but nothing she hadn't overcome before.
In her eighteenth year, Alice's father had arranged for her to be presented to society. Nothing so grand as a London debut, of course, not with her dubious background. But her gowns had been the latest fashion, her conversation well-informed, and her promised dowry quite generous. She had received considerable interest from the eligible gentlemen of the day, which wasn't all that surprising. Alice had inherited the same dark hair, green eyes, and creamy complexion that had enticed her father to seduce her mother, a village girl working as a maid.
Not nearly so naïve, Alice had nevertheless been quite taken by one Mr Jerome Younger, the second son of a squire. A handsome young man with modest but respectable prospects, his pretty words had led her to believe he was smitten—until her father died, her promised dowry disappeared, and his interest waned with the suddenness of a candle being snuffed out by a gust of wind through an open door. Overwhelmed by her sudden change of circumstance, Alice hadn't been all that bothered by the desertion. But she had learned to guard her heart.
In the years that followed, she had carved out a new life for herself, one that didn't include pandering to a society that could so easily reject one of its own. Neither did it include matrimony. She had become adept at ignoring the feelings of attraction that sometimes arose when she was around a member of the opposite sex. The sensations would soon fade, especially as she didn't even like Mr Whitlock—well, she hadn't liked him before she had witnessed his devotion to his son.
If only she could stop thinking about him all the time, stop remembering the way his hair curled around the back of his ears, or the way his moustache twitched, and fine creases appeared at the corners of his eyes when he was on the verge of a smile. Now that she had put her antipathy aside, she had to admit he could be quite entertaining, always ready with a relevant comment or an interesting anecdote at social gatherings. It was something she wouldn't have suspected, or been likely to witness firsthand, but her close bond with the district's newest viscountess had put Alice's name back on the invitation lists of the local society. Oft times she refused, too busy for such frivolity, but occasionally she gave in to Isabella's pleading and attended some soiree or another. As Edward's closest acquaintance, Mr Whitlock was invariably in attendance, and she had discovered the man could be quite charming, witty even . . . which was completely irrelevant.
"Good day, Miss Brandon. You are just the person I'd hoped to see."
The object of her thoughts stepped out of the shadows between her new shop and the adjacent school, and Alice's heart leaped in her chest. Assuring herself it was fright, not the man himself, that caused the reaction, she offered a feeble wave.
"Good day, Mr Whitlock."
His smile faded at her sour tone. "Is there something amiss? Is Peter all right?"
"No worse than the last time I saw him."
"No worse . . . that's good." Mr Whitlock gestured for her to precede him into the building that was almost ready for her to take possession. "But it does beg the question, how long before we'll know if the treatment is working? He is still so weak, and he sleeps far too much for a lad his age."
"Patience, Mr Whitlock." Alice walked around the long counter to the far side of the room where customers would come to buy her herbs and tonics, wanting to put a bit more space between them. "Peter was close to death when you sought my help. It's going to take time for him to recover. I predict a slow, gradual improvement. That's if we're on the right path."
"You have your doubts?"
His alarm was tangible, and Alice pushed aside her uneasiness to repeat the conversation she had just had with his housekeeper. "Time will tell, and I do detect a slight improvement."
"That is very good news." He let out a shaky sigh then changed the subject. "I was just speaking to the foreman before the men went on their break, and he said the painting should be finished in a few days."
"I can't wait." Smiling, she looked around her, allowing some of her excitement to show.
"How are things going with your new assistants?" he asked as they wandered through the building.
"Very well." Alice managed a genuine smile. "It wasn't easy choosing from all the applicants, but the women have turned out even better than I'd hoped. I am looking forward to continuing their instruction in more spacious surrounds than my little garden shed. Next year, I might even expand my number of students."
"Midwifery and herbalism are popular career choices?" Mr Whitlock sounded sceptical, and Alice fought to control her ire.
"Indeed. When word spread that Edward had offered to pay the wages of any trainees I might like to take on, I was inundated by women with an interest in the healing arts. Most were unsuitable, as I needed them to have at least a basic education and be available to put in long hours of study. Plus, they had to be willing to forego marriage or have already had their family and no longer be beholden to a husband."
"That seems a lot to ask." Mr Whitlock eyed her curiously. "I thought it wasn't uncommon for village women to work to supplement their family's income."
"Mending, taking in laundry, or assisting their husband in the family business. But no man is going to tolerate his wife being called upon in the middle of the night to tend to some other man's sick family—or the man himself. Then there's the midwifery, which I'm sure you recall from the birth of the twins is a time-consuming business. Husbands want their wives at their beck and call, tending their homes, and caring for their children, not gallivanting off all over the countryside."
Jasper pulled a face. "When you put it like that I can't say I blame them."
"Yours is the typical stance." Alice shrugged. "And why I shall never marry."
"Do all women who practise your profession remain single?"
"Generally, though some manage by working only locally and choosing a more accommodating husband than is the norm."
"Henpecked, you mean."
Mr Whitlock's moustache twitched with what she had come to recognise as the beginnings of a smile, but Alice did not match it.
"Why am I not surprised you would take such an unenlightened view?" she asked.
"I would have called it conventional."
"And do you always follow convention?" She arched a brow.
He opened his mouth, looking ready to argue, then closed it with a sigh. "No, I don't. Not anymore." His expression turned sheepish. "You provide a valuable service, Miss Brandon, and I can appreciate that you have made considerable sacrifices to pursue your craft."
Alice could tell the concession cost him. It was a pity he had waited so long to ask for her help with Peter, but it mustn't have been easy humbling himself to the village herbalist—a woman.
~D&D~
Alice put aside the journal she was attempting to update. She had been working hard, spending long hours caring for patients and seeing to the finishing touches on the new emporium, and she was in need of a break. There was no other acceptable reason for why she kept replaying every word of her most recent conversations with Mr Whitlock in her head. Almost a week had passed since she last encountered him, and the temptation to seek him out was growing by the day.
Maybe I should. Maybe spending some time with the man would rid me of the ridiculous notion that I am missing him.
And maybe it would make it worse.
Taking a break was a good idea, just not one that involved visiting a fair-haired gentleman with a too-arrogant tilt of chin, whom she had only recently ceased despising.
Her three assistants were quite capable of managing without her, a fact they were quick to echo when she told them she had granted herself a day off. After arranging for Marjory, her neighbour's daughter, to keep an eye on her aunt Edith, she took advantage of the dry autumn morning to trek up the hill and visit Isabella and the babies.
The thought of seeing her godchildren brought a smile to Alice's lips. Being well acquainted with almost every young child in the district, she had believed herself immune to bias, but she couldn't deny harbouring a soft spot for little David and Elizabeth. That both Isabella and she had given up on the possibility of having children of their own probably had something to do with it. Isabella had mourned the loss, and Alice was happy her friend hadn't been deprived of the opportunity to experience marriage and motherhood after all. The sacrifice had never bothered Alice, however, as it was expected for one of her calling.
Standing over the twins, with their little hands entwined as they lay cuddled together in their cot, she felt a tug on her heartstrings. Not that she had any desire to be a mother herself, of course. She was far too busy with her career. Becoming a godmother was an excellent compromise, and though she had doubts about her suitability, she felt a wave of gratitude for Isabella having chosen her for the role. She was actually looking forward to the christening ceremony, which was to be held in less than a week, and not at all because it would mean spending time with Mr Whitlock.
Reaching down, she gently stroked David's cheek before giving his much smaller sister a little pat. "They are adorable," she whispered before following Isabella through to the adjoining sitting room.
"They do look angelic when they are sleeping," Isabella said with a sigh. "But, oh my, they keep us on our toes when they are awake. Barely three months old, and they have turned the entire household on its head."
"And you wouldn't have it any other way."
Isabella's lips curved in a soft smile. "I told myself that being married to Edward was more than enough, but now that David and Elizabeth are here, I can't bear to think of life without them . . . or that I just as easily could have been absent from the picture."
A shudder racked her shoulders, and Alice gave her friend's arm a reassuring pat.
"Your babes are thriving, and you seem quite recovered, so I'd waste no more time on fearful imaginings."
"You are right." Isabella straightened her shoulders and faced her friend. "I can't thank you enough, Alice. You were instrumental in saving all our lives—Edward's, the twins', and mine more than once."
"Just part of the service." Alice shrugged off her friend's praise, though she was just as relieved by the outcome. Things didn't always turn out so well, and she had learned to celebrate the victories, as grieving her losses could become overwhelming if she let it.
"Speaking of service . . ." Isabella eyed her curiously. "I was so pleased when Edward told me Jasper had finally relented and asked for your help. You didn't make it too hard on him, did you?"
Alice blew out a breath. The purpose of her visit was to chase the man from her thoughts, not focus on him deliberately.
"I have been perfectly civil to Mr Whitlock." She was unable to hide her exasperation, and Isabella's face fell. "No, really, I have. We've managed to call a truce for the sake of his son."
"That is wonderful."
Isabella's smile was larger than the situation warranted, and Alice felt a prickle of unease.
"I knew if you got to know Jasper you would realise he is not a bad person. Edward thinks the world of him, and I quite enjoy his company also. It will make life so much easier now that the two of you have become friends."
"I don't know if I would go that far."
"Well, I would." Isabella's smile widened even further. "Jasper obviously has your best interests at heart, as he has spoken to Edward on your behalf. He is very concerned for your safety, what with your having to walk all over the countryside, sometimes in the dead of night."
"I manage perfectly well—"
"But you shouldn't have to. You have been lucky all these years, but it's dangerous for a woman to be out and about on her own."
Alice opened her mouth to object, but Isabella quelled Alice's objection with a look. They'd had this conversation before, but since Alice hadn't had much choice in the matter, it had always been moot. Things were different now.
"I can't say I am looking forward to another winter," she admitted.
"Exactly." Isabella's obvious relief at Alice's concession turned to remorse. "I am just sorry neither Edward nor I were astute enough to realise why you rejected his earlier offer of transport. Jasper pointed out you are far too busy to be caring for a horse—a problem for him also—so he suggested a joint arrangement. The two of you are practically neighbours, with just that empty field between your cottage and the estate manager's residence. Jasper already has a small stable and fenced yard, and he is going to see to their extension. That way he can keep extra horses and a decent covered carriage for the two of you to share. He prefers to ride most of the time or drive his single-horse chaise. But there are some occasions when he could do with a driver, and having a stable boy will ease some of his load. Most of the time, however, the driver and carriage will be at your disposal. Isn't that wonderful?"
Alice snapped her mouth shut when she became aware it was gaping. Edward had been incredibly generous with the funding for the shop and paying wages for both Alice and her assistants. But she had already allocated any spare monies. Paying for horses, carriages, and the servants to care for them . . . they were talking a small fortune. "I don't think Mr Whitlock is in a position to afford such an undertaking."
Isabella waved her hand. "He won't have to, as the estate will cover it, but it was Mr Whitlock's idea, specifically with you in mind. If that's not an overture of friendship, I don't know what is."
"Friendship, yes. Well, it's possible, I suppose." Alice wiped her suddenly damp hands on her skirt. "To be honest, I imagine Mr Whitlock is more concerned about my being readily available to tend to his son. He is probably worried Peter will need me, and I shall be stuck in a neighbouring village."
"How is Peter?" Isabella asked, ignoring Alice's less-than-flattering interpretation of the estate manager's motives. "The last time I spoke with Jasper, he said there'd been some small improvement?"
"That about sums it up." Alice nodded jerkily, glad of the change of topic. "His belly's not as swollen, and his appetite has picked up. He's still very weak, of course, but it is early days."
"Are you speaking about Peter?" Edward asked, entering the room and crossing to his wife's side. After kissing her cheek, he took a seat and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"Yes, we are," Alice replied.
Isabella's smile faded when she spotted Edward's frown. "Is there a problem?"
"Hopefully not." Edward patted Isabella's hand then addressed Alice directly. "I was just in a meeting with Jasper when a messenger arrived and said he was needed at home."
"That doesn't sound good." Alice stood and smoothed her skirts. "Did he mention if Peter had suffered a relapse?"
Edward shrugged his broad shoulders. "Last I heard, the lad was doing a little better. Jasper seemed quite hopeful."
"As was I." Alice couldn't hide her concern, and she readily accepted when Edward offered to call for a carriage to drive her back down to the village.
~D&D~
Darn these cliffies! Editors encourage you to leave a chapter on a tense note, so readers will keep turning the page. That's all very well when you have a page to turn! At least we only have to wait until tomorrow and not something dreadful like a week. :)
xx Elise
