Page 48 of The Gentleman Physician

Light still came from Timothy’s windows when Nathaniel arrived at his home, and he knocked without hesitation. Midnight was not too late for most in Bath.

The door was opened by a maid who brought him at once to her master and mistress. They were in their parlor. Both stood when he entered and Nathaniel froze in the doorway, studying them with a new sort of clarity.

Timothy and Mary loved each other. They hadn’t been acquainted above three weeks before they had agreed to wed, a courtship so brief it was nearly scandalous. But with Timothy as a third son, and Mary the daughter of a well-known gentleman-merchant, no one argued with the suitability of the match. Here they were, nearly two years later, in love and content to live in simple circumstances. Timothy did well as a barrister, but not well enough to buy a house in the country or elevate his wife into the upper echelons of society. Yet they remained happy together.

And he was envious of that happiness.

“Nate? What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

That stirred him from his thoughts. “The baron is gone. They need to contact his brother but aren’t sure where he’s staying.” He said the words without ceremony and wondered where all his tact had gone. Nathaniel must be more tired than he thought, and the exhaustion addled his brain. “And Lady Heatherton will need to speak to you soon, of course.”

“Poor Lady Heatherton,” Mary said, putting her hands on her cheeks and looking at her husband with wide eyes. “I cannot imagine—but Nathaniel, you are done in. Come and sit, I will bring you something to drink.”

“Coffee, I should think,” Timothy added as Mary went to the door. She only nodded and slipped around Nathaniel into the hall. “Come in, man. It will only take a minute to get you sorted and then we will dispatch a runner to Mr. Macon.”

“You know where he’s staying?”

“Of course. He informed his lawyer after his abrupt removal from the house, and his lawyer informed me.” Timothy retook his seat and crossed his arms, taking in Nathaniel with narrowed eyes. “Do they wish him to go to the house?”

“I think—yes. But I sent Lady Heatherton to bed. Miss Devon is keeping watch alone.”

“Alone?”

“They couldn’t ask the servants to stay.”

“Why didn’t you stay?”

Nathaniel groaned and rubbed at his eyes with one hand, then at the stubble on his chin. It had been a very long day and he really didn’t need Timothy confusing his thoughts further on this matter.

“I’m a doctor, not a member of the family.”

“You’re their friend, though. You’ve told me all about his lordship, your respect for them. And Miss Devon—”

“I couldn’t sit up alone with her,” Nathaniel said darkly. “Completely inappropriate.”

“A maid—?”

“Bother it, Timothy, it’s a dead man’s bedroom, not a courting parlor.”

Mary sailed back into the room with a hot cup of coffee. “Nothing added to it, as you like it, Nathaniel.”

He accepted the cup, but his mind stayed firmly on Julia. If the laws of society had allowed it, in any way at all, Nathaniel might have stayed. But his hasty departure from the house had its reasons, too. Being near Julia had become difficult, and the baron’s death thrust yet another barrier between them.

“Does my coffee offend you, sir?” Mary’s voice broke through his thoughts and he raised his eyes to meet the concern in hers. “Or is it something else? The baron?”

Nathaniel shook his head and took a quick sip, relaxing when it did not immediately burn his tongue.

“It’s Miss Devon,” Timothy said.

Nathaniel choked on his second swallow and started coughing.

“Must we discuss it?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“I think so.” Timothy smirked at his wife, perched on the sofa beside him. “Mary, he’s in love with her.”

“Still, or again?” Mary asked, her lips twitching as she glanced between Nathaniel and her husband.

“I’m not sure. He told Miss Devon off not too long ago. I thought he’d declared himself free of her.”