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“I can send for tea,” she said as she led him down the corridor to the back door. Thank goodness she at least had a cook, so that would be no problem.
“I just broke my fast.”
She assumed that meant he did not want tea. Oh, Lord, if only she wasn’t so tired. She hadn’t slept all night, what with frantic family members arriving at her door at all hours to see loved ones, and running upstairs to check on the two children, and then back downstairs to bathe those with fevers, she felt as though she would collapse at any moment.
The three of them stepped onto the patio and Rayne led them to a small table in the corner. Where she’d brought Edwin, in fact when he’d been a patient.
As he pulled out a chair for Rayne, he looked over at Edwin. “Excuse, me, sir but exactly why are you here?”
“Mr. Falkner-Jones!” Rayne was appalled at the man’s rude question.
She shouldn’t have worried. Years of being raised in the ton, attending the top schools, and socializing with the Upper Crust did not leave Edwin at a loss for words.
Now his brows rose dangerously close to his hairline. At this rate it could very well become a contest. “Ah, my good man. ‘Tis not sir to you, but ‘my lord’. And I am here because I wish to be.”
Rayne wanted to bang her head on the table, but with all that had happened so far that morning, she would probably knock herself out. Which might not be a bad thing.
“To clarify my answer to your discourteous question, I am assisting Dr. Stevens with her finances.”
Before Mr. Faulkner-Jones could further antagonize Edwin since it appeared the discussion was going in that direction, she jumped in. “How long will you be in Bath, Mr. Faulkner-Jones?” Not long, she hoped.
“I will be here long enough to get this marriage business settled.” He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his jacket.
“Marriage business?” She began to feel lightheaded and gripped the table to hang onto consciousness.
“Yes. Your father sent for me. He said since his health is failing, he wishes to see you settled before he passes on.”
What a lovely way to propose to a woman. Although they were theoretically betrothed since her father and Mr. Faulkner-Jones had made the arrangements years ago, she had never received a proper proposal from the man who sat before her.
Since your father seems to think he will die soon, let’s get this marriage business over with.
“I can assure you, sir, that my father is in excellent health. Yes, his doctor suggested he pass his medical practice over to me because of his age, but there is no reason to assume we will not be enjoying his presence for some time.”
He shrugged, as if the entire matter was of no importance. “Well, I am here now, summoned it seems for naught. But since I don’t wish to be hauled back again in a year or two for a wedding, I prefer to see to it now.”
Edwin stood. “Excuse me for interrupting, but Dr. Stevens, may I have a word with you?”
When Mr. Robert Faulkner-Jones looked at Edwin, he added, “There is something about your ledger book that must be addressed. Immediately.”
“Immediately?” Rayne said.
“Yes. Post haste.” He circled the table, gripped her elbow, and raised her from the chair. Then he proceeded to march her—there was no better description—down the corridor to the drawing room. He smiled at the patient lying on the sofa and dragged her over to the corner.
“What the blasted hell is going on out there?” He waved in the direction of the garden, his eyes snapping and his stance rigid.
“Whatever do you mean?” Perhaps if she acted the innocent, this entire nightmare would end, and she could climb the stairs and collapse onto her bed. Except that wouldn’t happen since there was no one else to look after the patients.
“Since when are you betrothed?”
Now he was beginning to annoy her. Why did men seem to think she had to reply to any question they threw at her? “Since a few years. I don’t know, a long time.”
“Years?”
“Yes. Many years. So many years that I seldom remember that I am betrothed. I’ve seen Mr. Faul
kner-Jones less than three times in my life. He has never officially proposed, and most times I completely forget about him.” She poked Edwin in the chest. “Furthermore, I am so tired I can hardly stand, and I’m not in the mood to appease the egos of men.” With those words she humiliated herself by bursting into tears.
“Come here.” Edwin reached for her and she went willingly into his arms, sobbing on his chest, causing his cravat to become limp and his shirt damp. He rubbed her back as she cried. She took the handkerchief he placed into her hand.
