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June 9, 1813
Swiftly, swiftly the world moved, and
only in my dreams did he kiss me.
The feeling like moonbeams on rippling streams.
’Tis now the day which is crippling.
I paused, as I knew not what else to say. I had wished to come back to Everely in hopes of escaping my heartache in London. How foolish of me to think I could leave parts of myself behind. Here, I was not overrun by questions or looks. However, in this stillness, my mind was filled with him.
Had he truly gone to see his ill father? From our conversations, he never seemed inclined to see the man again. So where had he gone then? Would he ever return to London? Would I see him again?
This was all terribly unfair.
I could not sleep at night, and now I could not enjoy the day because he plagued my thoughts.
How did I even fall in love to begin with? There should have been some clear sign or warning as I began my descent. But it was like I was observing him one moment, and the next I desperately wished to be alongside him.
It happened far too quickly.
But then again, who would ever fall slowly?
Theodore
I was mad.
It was the only explanation as to how I found myself traveling across the country with no plans or thought. The name of this madness was Verity. If someone had come and told me she was to be found in France, I would have been aboard a ship within the hour.
“Do you require lunch, Doctor?” Mrs. Stoneshire, the keeper of the Three Boar Bar & Inn, said to me as I came down the stairs. I had arrived in Allerton, the town closest to Everely House, the night prior. It had been so late I thought I would have to wake the innkeeper to find lodging. However, as if she had been expecting me, she ran out asking if I needed a room and demanded a hefty sum for a small village such as this.
“Yes, that would be nice,” I said to her. It would give me some time to strategize. It was not as though I could simply walk up to the duke’s home, even if we had been previously acquainted.
She leered like a cat over a mouse. “Right away, Doctor. I shall add the fee to your room.”
“Is it not already included?” What inn did not provide food to its guests?
“Maybe in London, but not around here.” She cleaned her hands off with her apron and went on her way.
Shaking my head, I took a seat at one of the tables.
“She shall bleed you dry, my friend.” A man my age or younger with a freckled face, dark hair, and green eyes laughed at me from the table across from mine, a large cup of what I could only guess was wine in his hand. “Rosemary Stoneshire shows no mercy for those of us who have money to spare.”
“And what makes you believe I do?” In fact, he did not look particularly well-off in the slightest either.
“Who do you think you are fooling?” He chuckled, looking me up and down. “Everything about you says well-bred, from the make of your vest and coat to your manner of speaking, on top of that expensive white horse you have outside—the saddle alone must have cost fifty pounds.”
Shit.
In order to leave Wentwood quickly, I had agreed to take Etheria, one of my father’s most precious horses.
“To what great family do you belong, my lord?” he asked, downing the remainder of his cup.
“I am not a lord,” I said as he came over and took a seat before me. “I am merely a doctor—which is why, from the coloring of your cheeks, I can say you have drunk enough.”
“A doctor?” He hiccupped, looking me over. “If you have a profession, you are the second or third son? No land to inherit but family wealth?”
Despite his drunken state, he was very astute in his reading of people.
“Do you make it a habit of interrogating people upon first meeting them…Mr….”
“Mr. Humphries. I am Simon Humphries.” He took in a breath, and I glanced him over to make sure he was not ready to vomit. Luckily, he belched instead. “Believe it or not, I am the local magistrate’s s-son. Forgive me. Interrogating is my father’s job, but I was curious after seeing the horse. How much for it?”
“It is not for sale, and you are not well,” I said, reaching over to feel his wrist.
“Release me!” he yelled as he tried to take his arm back, but he gripped his stomach instead, groaning.
“Ah, for the love of Judas, not again!” Mrs. Stoneshire hollered as she returned with my meal. Angrily, she threw it onto the table and turned back to yell, “John! It’s Simon!”
Rising to my feet, I went to his side and caught him before he keeled over. His body was burning up.
