Page 35 of Miss Ashbury and the Anatomy of Mending a Heart

“You men and your shelves,” she hissed, as if Stephen had been the one to coin the phrase.

He held up his hands. “I’m not the enemy here. She wanted gainful employment; I offered it.”

“And how did you know she wanted a position, Stephen? You two aren’t exactly close.”

The understatement of the century, Stephen thought. His foot still throbbed from where Vera had slammed it in her door. Repeatedly.

“She’s been sending dozens of letters from the village. It was only a matter of time before word got out. You know how nosy the innkeep is.”

It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was as close to one as he dared. His mother had a nose for such things. Even now, her slim nostrils flared as if scenting the half-truth on the air.

“Very well. I cannot stop either of you. However, she will travel in the company of a maid at all times. She’s under our protection, Stephen, and even if that means little to you, it means a great deal to me.”

“Fine—I suppose the maid can roll bandages or something.”

“Oh no.” She held up a finger and gave a brittle smile. “The maid is there for Vera. Not you.”

Stephen recognized her expression well enough to know it was no use arguing. “Fine. The maid can follow her around and whack me round the head if we lose ourselves to passion in between emptying buckets of vomit.”

CHAPTER 10- VERA

“Good heavens,” Stephen murmured, three days later. “Where on earth did Mother find her?”

They stood on the front steps of Bertforth House, the sun dappling their shoulders while a cool breeze ruffled the trimmed hedges on either side of the door. The baroness had informed them that Vera’s chaperone would arrive that morning promptly at eight. Stepping down from the plain carriage in the drive was a tall blonde woman who clutched a fearsome umbrella in one of her capable hands.

Vera smiled widely for the first time since she’d found Stephen rummaging through her correspondence. It had been three days, and three days without smiling was quite long enough.

“Hortense!” She ran forward and threw her arms around the woman. “How are you?”

“Very well, Miss Ashbury. And yourself?”

Vera held her at arm’s length and beamed up at her. “When Jacqueline said she was going to hire a maid to accompany me, I had no idea it was you she spoke of.” She frowned. “But won’t your husband miss your help at the store?”

Hortense’s cheeks grew a bit pink. “Though my husband and I love each other dearly, it seems our relationship is best served with us working separately.”

Vera laughed. “I can’t claim that I’m not delighted. What about Candace—er, the Duchess of Canterbury? Won’t she be upset that we’ve stolen you away for ourselves?”

“Her Grace already has a lady’s maid. I believe she had to hire two to replace me, actually.” The last was said with no small amount of pride.

“I don’t doubt it. Candace always claimed you were the best lady’s maid in all of England. It would follow that it would take at least two to take your place.”

“This must be the doctor I’ve heard so much about.” Her lips thinned as Stephen approached.

Vera cleared her throat. “Lord Winthrop, may I present Miss—er, Mrs. Harris?”

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Harris,” Stephen said. “But it’s Dr. Winthrop, actually. Especially when we’re working.”

“Of course, Doctor.” Hortense held out a hand.

Vera couldn’t figure out how such a small motion could convey so much challenge, but Hortense had somehow managed it. Perhaps it was because Hortense was only a couple of inches shorter than the man, though he was much broader through the shoulders.

Stephen took her hand and shook it crisply. “I think it’s wonderful Mother has hired such a capable young lady to help us. If the cart gets stuck in the mud, you can help push it out.”

With that shocking proclamation, he moved past both of them toward the cart. He gained the front seat easily, gathering the reins in his hands as if he’d done it a hundred times before. Hortense arched an eyebrow at Vera, who widened her eyes and gave a shrug in response.

“Well?” Stephen asked. “Are you ladies coming?”

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