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“Thank heavens we are here!” his wife called out as we finally reached the iron gates of their white townhouse, where Lord Wyndham, who stood tall for someone so short, along with his wife and nearly all of their servants, was already waiting. The doors were ripped open and the footmen were there to carry him as if he were Christ out of the tomb.
“Take him to his room at once! The baths must be prepared as Sir Grisham instructed!” Lord Wyndham commanded from the top of the stone stairs. His wife along with Alistair’s followed quickly into the house.
“My lord, I do not believe a bath will do him much good right now!” I called out as I exited the carriage last.
“And who are you?” He sneered down at me.
Introductions did not seem pertinent but nevertheless I said, “I am Dr. Darrington—”
“I thank you for your efforts, Dr. Darrington, but my son is under the care of Sir Grisham. You may go,” he declared, turning his back on me.
“MY LORD! Your son needs—”
“The rider my son Tristian sent has gone to alert Sir Grisham. He shall be here shortly,” he said.
“If that is what you prefer, but at least allow me to see to his care in the meantime,” I offered.
“Father, there is no harm in letting him stay. I’ve heard of him among the ton, he is the one who helped Lady Clementina,” Tristian said as he was halfway up the stairs to his father.
“If the Duke of Imbert wishes to leave his daughter’s care to a bastard that is his choice. I, however, will not subject your brother to such a dishonor,” was his reply before he turned and marched into his home.
“I beg your pardon, Dr. Darrington.” Tristian frowned as he looked at me. “And thank you for your assistance. Would you like our coachmen to take you back…?”
“No need. Should you require my services, I am to be found at the Crown Inn. My best wishes to your brother,” I replied calmly, bowing my head to him before turning back. This was a much-needed reminder for me.
Nothing I could do or be would ever change the status of my birth for those like Lord Wyndham. A bastard, whether he saved the life of one noblewoman or a thousand…was still a bastard.
I felt a bitterness rising within me as I began to walk, a curse rising in the back of my throat, and as the words nearly left my lips, I felt a drop of water from the skies above fall upon my nose. Another drop fell, then two, then rain suddenly drowned the whole earth. I glanced up, allowing it to wash away my ire, standing there like a madman, with a smile upon my face, taking in the rain.
Finally, reason got the better of me and I began walking. I walked until the day faded and the night rose, until the lavish open streets of the west were replaced with the crowded cobblestone streets of the east side of town, where drunkards and gamblers alike made their way to ale houses in order to squander their meager earnings. They were cheerful, laughing, and skipping through the rain. After all, the night had just begun and they had yet to lose anything. I walked to the third house on the moss-covered cobblestone street, the only one with a small iron gate. I glanced up at the dark bricks. Sometimes it felt like this home was held together by God’s will alone. The door barely closed and had a small rat-sized hole in the corner; the windows were so dirty I could barely see the faintest light coming from inside. However, no one here would notice these things, for only one family shared this house, and so it was already considered to be quite luxurious.
I did not bother going to the front door. Instead I walked the narrow path around back until I came upon the stairs and a familiar stench filled the air.
“You ought to keep this door closed, Grandfather,” I said as I entered, cleaning the rain from my nose.
“You look awful,” was the first thing he said to me when I entered the kitchen, even though his attention was upon the small pot on the fire.
“You could at least look at me before you give your assessment, Grandfather,” I said, placing my bag upon the only clear spot at the table. As always, it was covered in an array of plants, fruits, roots, and miscellaneous other treatments. He had everything from echinacea, ginseng, elderberry, and valerian to laudanum, leeches, and cream of tartar. Growing up he used to tell me all the world was located here in his kitchen just east of all the ton’s greatest society, which made him the richest man in England…except for the king of course.
