This made me giggle to myself. I hope you all enjoy. I 'm not working on this story as dedicatedly as my others, but I intended to plot this story out more frequently. Let me know what you think and what would be interesting to see.
Chapter Two
The golden haze of the morning sun crept almost shyly through sheer curtains. Illuminating the bed with a gentle caress that did little to rouse its occupant, but the slow-building heat of those golden rays did force a subtle stirring.
Sarah twitched and groaned as the room became warm and stuffy. She had purposefully forgotten to close the heavier drapes upon retiring for the night for just this reason. Sluggishly, her eyes fluttered open as she rolled away from the intruding light. She had imbibed little drink at the Lockwood Estate the night before and thankfully her prohibition left her clearheaded as she came to awareness. She listened for several long minutes to the silent household. Only the faint steps of the servants echoed up and down the stairs.
Sarah had suspected that her family would remain abed until the late morning. The festivities of the previous night had gone into the late hours, bordering on the edge of impropriety. Her cousin, Robin, had departed a few hours before Sarah and her uncle had decided to call it a night. Not for a lack of trying on Sarah's part. Uncle Daniel had been well into his cups and enjoying a heated debate with the widowed Lady Goodwin. It had been Sarah's first night among the Ton, and Lady Goodwin's returning debut to society as she officially left her mourning period. Neither woman had particularly looked forward to the ball, but for rather different reasons.
Marriage had little appeal to the country maiden. At least, not currently. Sarah knew that eventually, she would need to wed if she was not to become a burden to her mother... but there still was so much she wanted to do. She was young yet – she wanted to enjoy herself, not run a household. Nothing seemed more tedious to her.
Sarah would give anything to just be left to her own devices.
With that desire in mind, she slipped gracefully from her bed and dove into her trunks. She had hidden away clothes that the stable boy had outgrown back home. She donned the garments quickly, grateful that her slight form allowed her to forgo binding her chest. The shirt draped loosely enough to hide her meager cleavage and she found that she was quite fond of wearing trousers. The simple garment allowed her much more freedom for roaming. Her hair was a tad trickier to hide, but a woolen cap she had stolen from her uncle and well-placed pinning allowed her to tuck her errant curls away. As long as she kept her head down then she'd pass for a young boy.
Sarah had scavenged a pair of old boots from a farmhand that were a tad too big for her feet, but she found that rolling a handkerchief into the toes made the fit firmer. Unfortunately, the one obstacle she hadn't plotted out was her escape from the house. She would only be gone for a few hours back in time to greet any potential suitors. Not that she truly expected any. Sarah had kept to herself for the most part at the Lockwood estate. Two dances were hardly enough to attract a gentleman of the Ton surely. But her aunt would raise a fuss at seeing her niece dressed so and she did not know the house servants well enough to know if they would let her pass without telling her aunt or uncle.
Curiously, she peered out her window. The old oak tree was just far enough away to make her nervous about reaching for its gnarled branches, but the trellis... Sarah eyed the wooden slats and the encroaching ivy. She would have to hang over the ledge to get a good footing to climb down, but that left the problem of coming back up. She would not be able to reach for her window without falling.
There was no hope for it. Sighing and feeling aggrieved, she gathered her day gown and slippers and dropped the soft garments to the lawn. She would simply have to change before coming back inside. She had one leg out her window when she remembered she'd need her petticoats.
From the library below Sarah's rooms, Mr. Wheeler raised a brow as periwinkle fabric fluttered to the ground, followed by the thump of slippers, and then another flight of white fabric. The manservant bit back a grin as he gathered Lord Charles's correspondence and books. He would need to tell the gardener to reenforce the trellis stays. The ivy had not been used for an escape since the Countess of Chichester had resided within these walls.
Connor needed nine more hours of sleep.
Despite swallowing the swill his housekeeper had called coffee, his eyes were still blurred and his mind was ass unfocused as the morning fog. He had stayed at the Lockwood estate far longer than he had planned. Margret had been pleased. He had been annoyed.
On his return to the ballroom, two more maidens had been foisted on him for the last few dances of the evening. Severide had looked particularly amused by the Lady Lockwood's meddling until Miss. Kidd had prevailed upon Connor for a dance. He rather liked Stella and knew exactly what she had been up to with her request, and he had been more than happy to oblige if only to watch Kelly fume.
In all that time he did not once run into Robin or her fae-folk cousin. The countess it seemed had departed not long after she had retrieved her wayward kin from her midnight stroll.
Connor sighed as he recalled the young woman's startled gaze like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. His lips quirked up, such mischievous innocence. It had been a long time since he had encountered something so pure or amusing.
"Milord, I believe you had appointments you wanted to keep this morning. Shall I ready the carriage, or will other business be holding your attention?"
Connor blinked and smiled wanly at Landus, his manservant, "Ready the carriage, please. Dr. Latham is expecting me, and I know better than to keep him waiting. Besides maybe he can do something about my blasted headache"
"Of course, sir." Landus agreed promptly before disappearing.
Connor finished off the last of the bitter sludge before him and headed to gather his things. Seeing Dr. Latham ended up being his third stop of the day, by then his hangover had mostly passed into obscurity... at least he thought it had until he walked into the basement offices.
A corpse lay dissected on a table and a fetid smell filled the air, turning Connor's stomach. Sometimes he wondered why he came here, "Good God, man. What on earth are you doing?"
Dark eyes looked up solemnly from where he was placing a tidy row of stitches into a shoulder as he regarded the grimacing gentleman. Dully, he stated, "You must learn to knock, milord, if such sights offend you."
"It's not the sight. It's the smell. Does that not bother you?" Connor queried as he tasted the coffee from the morning.
The man on the table looked to be no older than fifty and very overweight. He wondered briefly how he had come to lie on the good doctor's table. Before he could ask a green jar was set before him with a tinkling clank. Connor arched his brow as he looked at Latham and debated if he should ask.
He didn't need to, "Eucalyptus paste. Put it below your nostrils and it will stave off the odor of Mr. Minle. I'm afraid he's been down here longer than I would have liked, but the group of students I had were... soft of stomach. It took much longer than I anticipated to get through their anatomy lessons."
"Yes, seeing this from a book is quite different," Connor murmured as he used the paste. It burned something fierce, but he would take it over the smell, "How did he die if I might ask?"
"Too much drink. Something you seemed to have partaken of yourself." Latham answered briskly, "You're late."
"Only by a few minutes." Connor protested as he shrugged out of his coat, "I thought I cleaned up rather well this morning."
Latham snorted, "Your eyes are tinged with a redness that belies alcohol consumption. And the patients on my table usually do not disturb you as much as he has this morning. If you feel the need to retch, please do so outside."
"I'm not going to be sick." Connor grunted back as he pulled on an apron, "Now, how do you know he died from drink?"
Latham raised a brow as Connor helped himself to the medical aids but didn't comment. He had long grown used to the gentleman's rampant curiosity, welcomed it even. If not for Lord Rhodes, then he would not be able to fund his medical school or keep current on the latest changes in medicine. In another life, Connor would have made a fine doctor. Instead, medicine was a passing hobby for the high-born.
"I thought we were to discuss your investments to the school." Even still he pulled back the abdominal incision and directed Connor's attention toward the liver, "See how it has speckled? This occurs from excessive drinking. There are other signs, as well, but this is the largest indicator. That and he had was found outside a tavern."
Connor studied the organ for a moment freezing the image in his mind, "What should a healthy one look like?"
For the next hour, Isidore patiently answered all of Connor's questions –none of which pertained to the investments that the heir had come to see about. In truth, Latham didn't mind. Talking about the school's budgeting was tedious and never failed to give him a headache, but there was a change that he did need to speak with Connor of, "I am turning some of the management of the school over to another. It will give me more time with my students and... it has been pointed out to me that there are better ways to supply the school than the methods that I've been adhering to."
It wasn't often that Latham admitted that he was lacking in some way. The confession made Connor thoughtful as much as wary, "Who is this new partner?"
"Lady Goodwin." Dr. Latham answered casually, "I grew to know her very well while her husband was in my care. A very intelligent woman."
Connor blinked. Lady Goodwin was a force of nature within the Ton's society and her absence the previous year had been markedly missed by all. He had seen her in passing at Lockwood House, but never once would he think that she would be interested in something such as this "Lady Goodwin?"
"Yes, Lord Rhodes, me." Lady Goodwin's voice sounded from the door, causing Connor and Dr. Latham to straighten instantly. She hid a faint smile as she remained by the door. As much as she respected the doctor and his work, she had no desire to view a cadaver up close. The smell was more than enough for her, "Dr. Latham."
The good doctor drew a sheet over Mr. Minle as Connor tried to subtly remove the apron he had commandeered and find his coat. The quiet amusement shining from the doorway told him that he had failed. He had never been terribly good at subtle.
"Lady Goodwin, I did not realize we had an appointment today. I would have met you upstairs." Isidore began apologetically as he removed his bloodied apron, as well. He was far calmer in his movements, methodical as he folded and put away his things. For a moment, Connor envied his grace.
"We had no appointment, and I'm only slightly sorry to have intruded," Sharon assured quietly as she allowed the men to usher her upstairs. She turned twinkling eyes on Connor, "I had long suspected that you were a benefactor of Dr. Latham's, milord. I'm glad to see I was right."
The future duke shifted uncomfortably, not sure how he felt about his interest in the sciences being known, "Dr. Latham fosters a worthy cause, does he not, Lady Goodwin?"
"He does." She turned her smile on the Doctor who merely blinked back.
Polite commendations interested him very little, "May I ask, Lady Goodwin, what the cause of your visit may be?"
Straight to the point. Connor and Sharon shared a mirthful glance that was lost on the other man. Goodwin shifted, and for the first time, both men noted the basket she was carrying. A thick leather portfolio rested inside. She handed over the binder almost carelessly, "I've made a few adjustments. You should review them and see if they are to your liking."
Connor peered curiously over Latham's shoulder as he opened the binder to reveal an intricate ledger. The sight nearly made him groan as he remembered that he still needed to review his ledgers for his country estate and its tenants.
Latham only gave the accounts a cursory glance, "I trust everything is in order, but if I have a question, I will seek you out."
"See that you do. I also wanted to ask if you have any more of that tea that helped the joints in my hands. I was telling Lord Charles about it last night and he was most interested." Sharon asked lightly.
Latham nodded as he moved to another room that held jars and tinctures, "Does he have the same stiffness in his hands?"
"His knees, I believe." Sharon recalled, "I believe this can be used for that as well?"
Isidore grabbed two jars, "Yes, it should do the same. The jar is for him and this for you. I'm sure you're out by now... though I would say, Lady Goodwin, I would be more comfortable giving the tea if I was able to first examine Lord Charles."
"I understand. I'm sure he would be more than happy to come and visit." Lady Goodwin assured as she stuffed the jars into her basket. Had Daniel's ailment been any more serious she would have sent him straight to the doctor, "I'm on my way to him now for afternoon tea. Perhaps I can get him to stop in later this week. Your school would fascinate him, I'd say."
Connor arched a brow, unaware that Lord Charles had an interest in the sciences. Philosophy, yes. The older man took a perverse joy in making those within his social circle question everything about their lives. He had endured many a headache-inducing conversation when he had been courting Robin. It was much more fun to be a witness to those spectator events than to be a participant, at least from his perspective, but even with that thought in mind he found himself offering, "Would you like an escort to Lord Charles's, Lady Goodwin?"
"You know what, Lord Rhodes, I think I would," Sharon answered, seizing the opportunity to inquire the younger man about his prospects. She shared the same opinion of Lady Lockwood; it was beyond time Connor settled.
Connor swallowed as he caught that familiar plotting gleam. He knew he had backed himself into a corner. Sighing, he turned to Latham, "Would you be amenable to us finishing our business tomorrow?"
"Of course, milord." Latham intoned as farewells were made.
The ride to the Charles's Estate was filled, as Connor predicted, with prodding queries about the ladies that he had taken a turn with the prior night. Though the topic did change for a moment to his association with Dr. Latham, and he was not sure he was any more comfortable with that interrogation. Even still, Sharon was good at knowing what boundaries to press and he found himself laughing as she described her first encounter with the taciturn doctor. It was only as they were stepping from the carriage that he realized that he still didn't know how she came to be involved with the medical school.
Connor didn't have a chance to ask as they were escorted through the home and into the gardens in the back.
Lord Charles stood in careful observance of his staff as a canopy was erected in the rose garden. It was strange being back at this home. Connor hadn't set foot inside in close to six years... too many memories. His heart ached faintly as he realized that he and Robin had shared their first kiss in that garden. How different things would have been if she had chosen him instead.
Daniel turned to greet his guests with a wide smile, though no one missed his faint surprise at Connor's presence, "Lord Rhodes, good of you to join us."
"Yes, I hope you don't mind the intrusion, Lord Charles. Lady Goodwin was gracious enough to let me escort her." Connor smiled somewhat apologetically. He had only meant to see Sharon into Daniel's care and depart, but already an additional place was being set at the table. He didn't know how to recuse himself politely.
"The more, the merrier. And it's Daniel, milord. You know I don't stand on ceremony." A clash of wood gathered everyone's attention. Part of the canopy had fallen inward, not having been properly secured, "Rather glad we hadn't sat yet."
"Daniel..." Lady Goodwin sighed as he grinned impishly at them. Connor choked on a laugh, "Where is your lady wife? I'll need an ally if I'm to deal with you both."
"Inside looking for my niece," Charles answered as he directed her away, "Another ally, I daresay."
Connor moved toward the canopy to see if he could assist. He trailed the edge and tried in vain to fight against the wave of nostalgia that was overpowering him. Little things had changed in the time he had been absent, but so much had remained the same.
Almost desperately he latched onto the rope meant to anchor a corner and drew it tight as a servant ran to reposition the supporting pole. The rope cut into his palm, sending a sharp burn up his arm, but the pain was welcomed. It helped him push back his desire to run away. He stepped back, securing the line to the anchor behind him as the other corners were similarly pulled taut.
The canopy held beautifully now. It was a rather lovely day to have tea outside. He meandered through the gardens as he waited for his host to return. Blue and white irises waved gently from the ground; daffodils brightened the scape, breaking through the sea of green lawn. Even the ivy clothing the house had small flowers in bloom. It was rather stunning. A cloth of white stole his eye as he bent to inspect a flowering butterfly bush.
Curiously, he picked the fabric up. Thinking that a servant had dropped a tablecloth or part of the canopy until the cloth unfold into lady's petticoats. Another cloth laid on the ground, blue in color – a dress he assumed. A grin began to spread across his lips.
Was there a naked woman running around?
"Umm... I – uh – I believe that's mine, sir."
Connor swiveled on his heel at the embarrassed whisper behind him. Almost hysterically, he expected to see the Birth of Venus as he turned. The coat and trousers caught his attention first and he nearly scoffed at the young boy before him as he wondered what prank was being pulled. That is until he looked at his face and had to bite the inside of his cheek to contain himself. Large dark eyes glimmered at him warily from beneath the brim of her cap and he was thrust back to the gardens at Lockwood House. Wild amusement stole through him as he quietly handed over the petticoat while his gaze continued to roam the cross-dressing gentlewoman before him. He had no idea what to say.
"Sarah? Are you out here?"
Sarah paled at the sound of her aunt's voice. She sent a panicky stare to Connor, silently begging him to not give her away. He quirked an amused brow at her.
Obviously, her absence was only just being noted. Connor was beginning to understand how Robin had been able to sneak out so often. Taking pity on the young woman and more than enjoying the little secret he had discovered, he quickly guided her behind the oak tree as he rushed to meet Lady Charles.
Sarah watched after him in mortification, torn between agitated and relieved.
Who was this man who kept discovering her at these inopportune moments?
Unbeknownst to her, Connor thoughts trailed in a similar direction.
