“Tabitha,” Tristan replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thank you,” Doctor Langley said. “It’s fortunate you brought her when you did. She’s dangerously weak, but I believe we can still save her… assuming we bleed her immediately.”
“No.” The word burst from Dominic. He stepped forward instinctively, placing himself between the doctor and the bed. “There must be another way.”
The doctor raised a brow. “My lord, I assure you, bloodletting is a well-established, perfectly safe practice?—”
“I’ve seenwhat bloodletting does,” Dominic snapped. “It leaves the strong weaker and the weak… dead. I won’t have it. Not with her.”
Doctor Langley exhaled through his nose, visibly restraining his irritation. “Very well. I will pursue alternative treatments, though I must warn you, without knowing exactly what’s afflicting her, our options may be limited. But we shall start by giving her some food and hope some of her strength returns.”
“Do what you must, but keep her alive,” Dominic said firmly. “And I want to be informed of her progress. Send word to my townhouse the moment there’s any change.”
“As you wish, my lord,” Doctor Langley replied. “Though that does leave the matter of the boy. He cannot remain here.”
Dominic looked down at Tristan, who was holding his mother’s limp hand with such tenderness it nearly broke him. “And where is he meant to go?”
Doctor Langley shrugged. “There’s the workhouse. They’ll take him in.”
Dominic clenched his jaw. Working as a Bow Street Runner, he had seen what happened to children in workhouses—starvation, disease, injury… or worse. It was no place for anyone, let alone a child trying to care for his mother.
“No,” Dominic said. “He’ll come home with me.”
Surprise flashed briefly in the doctor’s eyes, but he recovered quickly. “Very good, my lord.”
Dominic knelt beside Tristan, placing a hand gently on the boy’s bony shoulder. “Come, Lad. Let’s get you something warm to eat.”
Tristan’s wide eyes darted from his mother’s pale face to Dominic. “But… what about my mum? I don’t want to leave her.”
Dominic met the boy’s gaze. “The doctor’s going to look after her. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”
Tristan’s lower lip trembled. “Can’t I stay?”
“I’m afraid not,” Dominic said. “But you’ll see her again once she’s stronger.”
The boy gave a small, reluctant nod. Dominic helped him to his feet, and together they walked towards the door.
As they started to walk away, Dominic glanced back one final time at the fragile woman on the bed.Please hold on,he thought.For Tristan’s sake.
The hackney carriage lurched to a halt, its wheels grinding slightly against the cobblestones as it came to an abrupt stop. Dominic reached for the handle and swung open the door, stepping down onto the clean, well-swept pavement just outside his home.
Tristan scrambled after him, landing beside him with a soft thump. He froze as his gaze lifted to the towering red-brick townhouse before them. His mouth parted slightly in awe.
“Is… is this where you live?” the boy asked.
Dominic allowed himself a small smile of pride. “It is,” he said. “Come along now. A gentleman does not loiter on the pavement.”
Tristan hurried to match his stride. They ascended the wide stone steps and the door swung open. Standing on the threshold was Wright, his white-haired butler, dressed in his immaculate black tailcoat and white gloves, his expression calm and composed as ever.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Wright greeted, stepping aside and opening the door wider.
“Thank you, Wright,” Dominic replied, entering the grand foyer with measured steps. The hall beyond stretched out in quiet splendor with marble flooring gleaming beneath their feet, soft light filtering in through tall windows framed with heavy curtains, and a grand chandelier hanging overhead like a frozen cascade of crystal.
Tristan stood stiffly just inside the door, his eyes wide as they darted around the hall. He looked impossibly small in such an opulent space.
Dominic gestured towards him. “This is Tristan. He’ll be staying with us for the foreseeable future. See to it that he is properly outfitted—new clothes, boots, whatever he needs.”
Wright bowed his head slightly. “Of course, my lord. I shall see to the arrangements immediately.”
