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Braden shook his head. “You’re bloody relentless, you are.”
“Me? Never.” John drained his coffee cup and stood. “I’m off to make my rounds. Care to join me? There’s an interesting case I’d like you to see.”
Braden rose. “I thought you’d never ask.”
That was the world he was most comfortable in, that of science and medicine. It was a world where intellect and talent held sway, not emotions. And it was definitely where he could do the most good.
As for socializing and getting involved with lovely young ladies? It would be a frosty day in Hades before he made that mistake again.
CHAPTER4
Samantha buttoned up the cuff of her sleeve as she hurried down the staircase. Bathsheba Blackmore was her closest friend, but she was not one to make an early morning visit. Something was surely wrong to bring her to Samantha’s doorstep when the day had barely begun.
Mrs. Johnson, Samantha’s housekeeper, awaited her in the hall.
“I put Mrs. Blackmore in the family parlour,” she said. “I thought that would be a wee bit cozier on such a cold day.”
Samantha smiled at her steadfast confidant, whose round figure, pink cheeks, and snowy-white hair gave her the appearance of a cheerful grandmother. Yet underneath that appearance was a quick mind and the fierce devotion of a tigress protecting her cubs. Mrs. Johnson had served the Penwith family for years and had been exceptionally dedicated to Samantha’s husband. She’d stayed on after Roger’s death, helping Samantha, as well as Roger’s younger sister, Felicity, navigate their way through tragedy and challenge.
Like every other staff member in the small household, Mrs. Johnson was devoted to Samantha’s mission. The woman would face down a firing squad before betraying her secrets.
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. Is the tea tray coming up?”
“In a twinkle.”
“Is Felicity about?”
“She’s with Mrs. Blackmore. The two of them be talking up a storm.”
Samantha smiled at the description, since there was nothing but silence from behind the closed door.
“Felicity loves Mrs. Blackmore. She’ll be excited to see her.”
They had so few visitors, and whenever Samantha thought about Felicity’s isolation, her heart grew heavy. Still, it was the only way to keep her sister-in-law safe. Trying to give the girl a normal social life would bring down her grandfather’s stern hand with stunning swiftness.
Not that Samantha was one for parties or fetes on her best day. From the day she’d arrived in the city from her family’s remote Highland estate, she’d been considered an awkward country bumpkin. For Roger’s sake, she’d done her best to fit in. But she’d never truly caught the trick of getting on with Edinburgh’s finest, not like the other women in their social circle seemed to do.
Thankfully, her husband had never cared about any of that. And his love had more than compensated for every snub and cutting remark Samantha had ever endured.
When he was ripped away from her, nothing was left behind but black loneliness.
“My lady?” Mrs. Johnson quietly asked. “Can I get ye something?”
Samantha opened the door to the parlour. “Tea will be fine, thank you.”
Bathsheba sat with Felicity on the floral-print settee in front of the fireplace, where a crackling blaze poured forth heat and good cheer. The pair carried on their silent conversation, hands moving in quick, precise gestures as they occasionally mouthed words in response to each other.
Not for the first time, Samantha sent up a prayer of gratitude for John and Bathsheba Blackmore. Felicity was adept at reading lips and the household staff had all learned to sign, but communicating with others was a chore for the girl. Constantly reading lips was exhausting. Even worse, most people chose to ignore Felicity, assuming that because she was deaf, she must also be stupid or mentally defective. It didn’t help that Lord Beath, her grandfather, felt much the same and did everything he could to prevent the girl from leading an active life.
But John and Bathsheba, both accomplished at communicating with those who were deaf, were true friends to Felicity and maintained a steadfast support. Samantha would be lost without them, too. After Roger’s death, there were few in the city she could rely on for help and encouragement.
But even that steadfast friendship could only take her so far. Only Samantha could truly protect Felicity and find Roger’s killers.
Bathsheba broke into a laugh and held up her hands.
“You must slow down,” she said to Felicity, clearly enunciating. “I cannot keep up.”
The girl rolled her eyes with all the drama of a sixteen-year-old.
