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“Yes. I will do that.” She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a yawn.
The sound of the front door opening and the laughter and chattering of several voices caught their attention. The people the agency sent entered the infirmary.
Rayne shook her head as if confused. “I have never had this many employees. I don’t know what to tell them to do.”
Edwin had no doubt that Rayne would know what to do with employees, but she was so tired she couldn’t think straight. As soon as things were settled, he would take care of that situation, too.
An older woman stepped up. “Dr. Stevens, I am Mrs. Foster, your cook. Why don’t you show me to the kitchen and perhaps the girls,” she waved in the direction of the two young maids, “can get started on their work. I understand your nursing assistant will arrive momentarily.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Rayne appeared so discombobulated that she was relying on a new employee to take charge.
Edwin made his way to the entrance hall. With the arrival of the employees Walter had still not left the house. “My good man, once things are settled here, I would like to insist Dr. Stevens retire to her bedchamber, but as you can see, I am in no position to enforce that.” He pointed to his leg.
“Therefore, I would ask you to—” The front door knocker dropped to interrupt him. Edwin motioned to the door.
Walter opened the door and a man stood there. Tall, and so slender as to appear emaciated, he wore a long black coat, a top hat, and a stern expression. “Dr. Stevens, please.” He stepped over the entrance way and handed his hat and gloves to Walter.
“May I ask who is calling, sir?” Walter said.
“Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones.”
Rayne came down the corridor just as the man announced himself. He looked at Rayne and offered what he probably considered a smile.
It didn’t quite make it. “Hello, my dear.”
Walter and Edwin turned to Rayne.
“Oh. Yes. Hello, Mr. Faulkner-Jones.” She appeared quite flustered and attempted to tuck her hair behind her ears and smooth out her hopelessly dirty and wrinkled dress.
Edwin got a strange feeling in his stomach. He looked at Rayne, who continued to stare at the man as if she’d seen a ghost. “Who is this?” Edwin demanded.
The man answered for her, distaste on his face as he took in Rayne’s disheveled appearance. “Not that it is your concern, sir, but as I said, I am Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones.” He turned his tight-lipped face to Edwin. “Dr. Stevens is my fiancée.”
Chapter 8
Whatever was Mr. Faulkner-Jones doing here, standing in her entrance hall? He was supposed to be in India, Egypt, or Russia, or someplace like that. He was always wandering around the world in search of things. She’d lost track of him a couple of years ago. In all honesty, she’d even forgotten about him, and the fact that he was her fiancé.
The four of them remained still. Her, Edwin, Mr. Faulkner-Jones, and Walter. Finally, Edwin broke the ice. “Perhaps you might want to introduce us to your fiancé?”
“Er. Yes. Mr. Faulkner-Jones, may I present Edwin—I apologize, Lord Sterling that is, and Walter, my doorman.”
Her fiancé—she cringed at the term—nodded at both men, then viewed her with raised eyebrows. “May I enter, or shall I be forced to stand in the entrance hall for the duration of my visit?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. I apologize, I am a bit tired.” Rayne turned and for a moment was confused as to where she should put him. Since none of the patients had left yet, every bed in the infirmary was filled, along with the sofa in the drawing room.
“I have a full house right now since there was a train accident and I am currently housing ten—actually counting the children—twelve patients.”
He continued to stare at her. “Yes?”
“I’m afraid my drawing room is occupied, perhaps we can retire to the kitchen?”
If possible, his brows rose further. “The kitchen?”
She was becoming annoyed. He’d always had a way about him to make her feel as though she were completely incompetent. And frankly when she was around him, she did feel incompetent. Which was why she would have preferred to know ahead of time that he planned on visiting her.
“Might I suggest we retire to the garden, then, since the weather is fairly acceptable today?” Rayne had to get Mr. Faulkner-Jones out of the house. He was already annoyed at her lack of a proper place to visit with him. The way he cast derisive glances at her attire told her what he thought of her appearance, and as tired as she was, she would make some gaffe very soon.
He gave her a curt nod and sniffed. “Since there seems no place to visit here, the garden will have to do.”
