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“An accident on the docks. We need every pair of hands. The other medical facilities are overflowing, and all physicians have been asked to help.”
“I’ll get to work.” Thank goodness Oliver didn’t chastise him for taking the day off to go to a card party. Perhaps that would come later from either him or Harry. But of course, emergencies were emergencies because one didn’t schedule them.
By the time the last patient left, every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion.
Harry stumbled into the waiting area, locked the door, turned the sign to “closed,” then slumped in the nearest chair. “Reminiscent of your first day working here, true, Marbry?”
Timothy found the strength to nod his head, but barely. “There must be a way to help more people. Is there nothing we can do to entice another physician to join us?”
Harry drew a hand down his face. “Unless someone will work for free, I’m afraid not. Although another pair of hands would be a godsend.”
Unease soured Timothy’s stomach that Harry had been most generous with his salary. The need to improve his financial situation pressed in on Timothy, reminding him that Honoria’s dowry would solve many problems—not only those of the Saxton estate, but his ability to donate his time to the less fortunate.
He became resolute to do what he must. “I may be able to help with that shortly.”
* * *
“Didyou enjoy the card party, my dear?” Priscilla’s father asked on their journey home.
Sighing, she settled against the soft squabs. “Yes. I did. I understand only Lord Nash surpassed you in taking the largest number of tricks.”
He grinned at her. “I do love a good game of whist. Both Nash and I had the good fortune of being paired with competent players. Although I would never say this to her face, Her Grace didn’t seem to have her mind on the game.”
“Do you think she resented me being there? She was exceedingly kind to me when we arrived, but I don’t know . . .”
“Rest easy, girl. She spoke to me briefly before she left and apologized for her lack of attention to the game. Although she didn’t confess the reason, she did state she’d been feeling inordinately tired lately.”
“Oh, I hope she’s not ill. But surely the duke would know, wouldn’t he?”
Her father gave her an enigmatic little smile. “I think she will be just fine. And as far as I could tell, she’s completely forgiven you for what happened.” He turned toward the carriage window, muttering, “If only others were as generous.”
Indeed.
During the session when she paired with Mr. Ugbrooke, with the way he had stared at her, she expected him to pull out his lorgnette for a closer examination. Perhaps he would even open her mouth to inspect her teeth. She shuddered at the thought.
However, he did suggest he might call on her in the coming days, which was more than she could say for any other eligible man at the party.
She was unsure how she felt about that prospect. He wasn’t hideous. Certainly nothing like Lord Middlebury, who had come perilously close to pinching her bottom when they first dispersed to join their respective tables. Quick sidestepping on her part allowed her escape.
Not precisely objectionable, Mr. Ugbrooke came nowhere near Timothy in attractiveness. And unlike Timothy’s exotic scent of sandalwood, Mr. Ugbrooke reeked of garlic.
Oh, Timothy.She exhaled another sigh at her dilemma. Before her disgrace, she would have loathed Lady Honoria, perhaps even done something underhanded to sabotage her attachment to Timothy. However, as much as she secretly wished either of them would break off their association, she admitted a strange kinship to the quiet woman.
And who could blame Timothy for seeking her affections? She was pretty, wealthy, and as far as Priscilla knew, well respected by those in the peerage. Yet what did her father say?
“Papa, you said something about Lady Honoria having some difficulty with society. I don’t recall what happened.”
He turned from the window, meeting her gaze directly. “I thought you’d learned your lesson about gossiping?”
Although no harsh accusation tainted his voice, his judgment sliced through her. “I only hoped to understand. She was very kind to me today. Even defended me against Lord Felix’s disparaging comments.”
Her father snorted. “He’s a fine one to talk.” He grew serious, his eyebrows drawing together. “What did he say? Should I have words with him?”
“No. No. Dr. Marbry and Lady Honoria defended me. It was a silly disagreement. But I should like to become friends with Lady Honoria, if she will permit, and I thought it might help to know a bit more about her.”
Closing his eyes, he seemed to mull it over. “Very well. Six years ago, the year before your come-out, she developed a tendre for a young man who did not meet with her father’s approval.”
“That seems hardly enough to cause gossip.”
