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I nearly jumped from my seat, hearing my mother’s voice at the door. She came in hard-faced, nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed on me, her demeanor shocking to Silva.
“Yes, Mama?”
“You shall bathe. The maids will bring you your finest gowns to choose from, and shall do your hair. Then we shall go to the park for a walk. After that, we are going to the Milbourne Ball. Furthermore, tomorrow, we shall have another breakfast in the park. All of these events shall be in the company of the Duke of Everely. Prepare yourself, for you shall be very busy!”
And with that, she began shouting orders into the hallway. “Eleanor! Bernice! Ingrid! Call them all!” she ordered with the force and fury of a queen, and within a mere second, my room was filled with her army. “If your father wishes to be stubborn, I shall be even more so. Twenty-two years I have waited for this moment, and he refuses? Ha! Let us see how he shall manage it when all of the ton sees you and Evander together every day and asks him when there shall be a wedding!”
I glanced at Silva out of the corner of my eye. I could see her trying not to laugh. My mother had been fully galvanized.
“Well, let us begin. Now!” She clapped her hands to the maids, and I was pulled away…and I was happy to be.
14
Evander
“I recall prescribing you rest,” the doctor muttered as he roughly tended to the wound on my shoulder. “You are fortunate that your shoulder will heal, but how well is still up to you, Your Grace.”
I looked down at my hand where I could still feel her touch. “I shall take your prescribed rest later.”
“Then it is useless.” He pressed hard near my shoulder.
I gritted my teeth, glancing up at him. “You’re harming me, Dr. Darrington.”
“You are harming yourself. You must not exert any more strain,” he demanded as he handed me a vial. “Take this for another two nights. I will check on you again in three days. You should be well enough by then.”
“Do you always take this much care with patients?”
“Yes,” he said earnestly. I noticed that Dr. Darrington, despite his young age, was serious and skilled in his work. He had even been as discreet as he had promised. There was no talk of my illness or injuries, according to Verity.
“Thank you,” I said to him seriously.
“It is my job.” He cleaned his hands before packing away all his tools into his black leather bag.
I glanced at the vial and then at him for a moment. I did not wish to discuss this with anyone, but I thought of Verity and could not allow myself not to ask.
“Is there medicine for someone who…”
“Yes?” He waited, lifting his head to me.
“Who has horrible nightmares?”
“How bad?”
“Sometimes the afflicted cannot move, and other times, they sweat and scream. It varies.”
He frowned. “If such is the case, I should first prescribe you another medicine—”
“It is not me,” I said, and he stared at me for a long time before nodding.
“Then I need to speak to the patient—”
“I can tell you what occurs, but the person does not like to talk about it. Another doctor prescribed something to help with sleep, but it does not always work.”
He closed his bag, lifting it before turning to me. “Your Grace, I cannot blindly prescribe medicine based on your assessment of the issue. I need to speak with the patient and see for myself.”
“Could you do something if you did?”
“I do not know. But I doubt it.”
