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“This is Bernice. She shall lead you to the dining room while I wait here.”
I nodded. “Should he begin to cough or show any signs of waking, summon me immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
“This way, sir,” said the second maid, gesturing for me to follow.
I did so, but the closer we got, the less I needed her for direction because I could clearly hear their voices.
“Abena, enough, or I shall see to it that you do not eat again until tomorrow!”
“Mama, that is murder!”
I smiled at the chorus of laughter that seemed to echo like music throughout the whole house.
“You—”
“Dr. Darrington, my lord, my lady,” the maid said and stepped aside for me.
When she did, I was able to see a whole feast spread upon a long table, and around it was all the Du Bell clan, at the head of it Lord Monthermer. They all glanced up at me curiously, especially the youngest ones. However, the pair of brown eyes I sought most, those of Verity, were not there.
“Dr. Darrington, welcome. Please sit,” Lord Monthermer said, extending his hand toward an empty chair beside Hathor.
“Thank you, my lord. Good morning, my lady.” I bowed my head to the marchioness.
“I do hope you are hungry, Dr. Darrington. Our cook seems to be feeding an army this morning,” the marchioness said to me as I took my seat.
“I hope I am worthy of it,” I replied, glancing at it all.
“Why would you not be worthy of food?” asked the youngest Du Bell child, her head tilted to the side and a bit of jelly on her upper lip.
“It is an expression, Abena,” said her sister, the one with golden curls, from across the table.
“Oh,” Abena replied, taking another large bite. “You should have the eggs and sausage. It is the best. But Mama won’t let me have more.”
“Abena, last warning!” the marchioness called out to her. “Do forgive my youngest. She sometimes likes to act as though she were raised by wolves.”
I did my best not to laugh and reached for the eggs and sausage. But I nearly dropped my utensil as Hathor bumped into me. When I looked at her, she was nearly nodding off.
“Hathor!” her mother called to her, making Hathor sit up quickly and look around.
“Here.”
All the family except her mother began to laugh.
“I was wondering how you made it down to breakfast today so early, and I see now it is because you left your mind upstairs,” Damon teased her as he drank his tea.
“Silva, I must ask once again, of all the men in the ton, was he truly the best you could do?” Hathor snapped, glaring at her elder brother.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Silva replied with a smile.
“Unfortunately?” Damon turned to her, eyebrow raised.
“Dr. Darrington, please excuse my family. We are normally much more…behaved at breakfast,” the marchioness said to me as I quietly, and quite happily, ate my eggs. The child was right; it was very good.
“I know not what you mean, your ladyship. I have never seen a family better behaved,” I replied, and it was the truth. What a joy it was to have a morning like this. I did not even experience this at Henry’s home.
“Wise man indeed.” The marquess chuckled as he folded the newspaper. He opened his mouth to speak when Silva, not noticing, spoke up.
“Where is Verity? Has she not awakened? Is she still unwell?”
“Apparently, she and Hathor stayed up talking last night. I am allowing her to rest,” the marchioness replied, and instantly, I felt…alarmed. Had it been a dream? When had Hathor gone to her rooms?
“Mama, I must ask you again, did you find me under a tree? Why was I not allowed to rest?” Hathor asked.
Her mother merely glared back. “Because it was you who went to disturb her.”
“She was already awake—”
“I was.”
I turned at the sound of her voice. She stood dressed in soft pink, her curls down, and when her eyes met mine, she stared for a moment before looking back to the marchioness. “Good morning. Please forgive me for being late.”
“Of course, please come and sit, my dear.”
The only chair for her to do so was once again right beside me. I felt the need to hold my breath, almost as if I were bracing for a punch.
“Dr. Darrington, good morning.” She nodded to me, and just as I was to conclude that last night had in fact all been a dream, our eyes met once more and she pressed her lips closed…I inhaled as I just knew.
I truly had taken advantage of her.
“Good morning,” I managed and once more faced my food. I wished to ignore her, ignore my own mind, when the second Du Bell son spoke my thoughts.
“You look pretty this morning, Verity,” he said so effortlessly that I was jealous of him.
“Thank you, Hector.” She smiled from ear to ear.
