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“Of all the patients I have had, Your Grace, you are the most exhausting. And now you seek to be a poor influence upon her.”
Standing in the doorway of the drawing room was the rather slumped and weary doctor.
“Did I not prescribe you both rest?”
“That you did,” I replied. “But I believe you may need rest more than the both of us. Have you not slept?”
“How can one rest in such chaos?” He muttered something else I could not hear before taking a seat in the corner, leaning back on the chair. “When you sent for me, I thought I had only Mr. Wildingham to tend to, not three patients in total.”
“How is my father?” Marcella asked as she unsteadily pushed herself to stand. “I believe the truth of all this has greatly affected his heart.”
“He’s ill. All that can be done for him is to rest so what little of his strength remains and to make him comfortable,” Dr. Darrington replied, looking to her.
“Is it not possible for us to wait?” she asked, looking at me. “I do not believe my father has much time left. I would not wish him to be—”
“The longer you stay, the greater chance of discovery. And should that happen, I shall not be able to help you, nor will as many people believe your plight,” I explained. “Go sit with him now while you can.”
She nodded and slowly managed to remove herself from the room, leaving only the doctor and me, who looked at me disapprovingly.
“If there is something you wish to say, say it,” I said as I took a seat, careful of my battered arm.
“Are you not just using her as well?” the doctor asked. “Seeking to help her so you can clearly take aim at her husband?”
“Do you believe her to be better off returned to him?”
The frown upon his lips deepened. “She is not. But such a deceit has come at a great cost already. A mob burned a home to the ground last night. The hearts of people enraged are not easily tamed.”
“Justice shall bring forth the taming. And when Fitzwilliam is arrested, they will have it,” I replied. I had not foreseen the mob, but there had been no choice. Still aching, I rose to prepare. “She must leave tonight.”
“Your Grace!” The door nearly burst open as Aphrodite’s maid rushed into the room.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Topwells…he is coming here with the magistrate.”
Fuck!
I looked out the window to see the magistrate’s carriage, and the man now coming off his horse was none other than Fitzwilliam. I had no time to prepare. Damn him. How had he known I would be here? He would not have come even if it was to collect Marcella’s body, let alone atone to her father. He sought to preserve himself by any means necessary. “What cause does he have to come here? Has anyone else been here?”
“A maid arrived early this morning after your wife. I sent her on her way, but she looked rather suspicious of me,” Dr. Darrington said. “I thought her worried about her master. I did not think anything strange of it.”
What was stranger than a duke, a duchess, and a doctor all within a gentleman’s home in the early hours of the morning? I had sent Aphrodite’s carriage, as well as my horse, back in the hopes of not drawing further attention to the house. But this was only hours later. Surely she must have said something to arouse suspicions.
“Eleanor, go find Marcella and hide her.”
I had no other choice here. I glanced to the doctor. “You know it is better for her to leave than suffer greater abuse by his hands.”
“You know I do.”
“Then I shall lie, and you shall cover it.” I did not give him a chance to disagree before I went to the door.
Taking a deep breath, and standing firm, I opened the door just as they both entered into the front garden.
“Lord Everely?” the magistrate said as he looked over in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Wildingham was rather distraught upon hearing the news of his dearly departed daughter, and I sought to help here. What brings you, sir?”
“So distraught you’ve stayed here overnight, and now your wife is here as well?” Fitzwilliam questioned. “I did not know you cared so much for Mr. Wildingham.”
