The Grace of a Duke (28 page)

Charlotte watched in the mirror as Dr. Regan leaned over her back and gently pulled down the bandage to peer beneath it. “My lady, I believe this is healing quite well. In fact,” he started to say before reaching into his bag for a pair of scissors, “I might be able to remove most of them, if not all,” he murmured. Charlotte held her breath as she felt the cool steel blade of his scissors against her skin. In a moment, she felt the wrapping loosen from around her torso and cool air caress the wound.

From the reflection she saw in the mirror, Charlotte thought that Parma might faint as she watched the doctor carefully cut the sutures and use a pair of tweezers to pull them from her skin. The sensation, a sort of tickle, made Charlotte shiver a bit as the bits of thread were pulled out. 

“Almost done, milady,” Dr. Regan said softly, concentrating on each stitch as he cut and removed it. “I cannot say for sure, but you may be able to wear a corset under your wedding gown,” he murmured with a hint of amusement.

Charlotte regarded the doctor’s reflection. “So soon?” she responded, a wan smile coming to her face. She found she hadn’t missed wearing a corset, the bandage being far more comfortable in securing her breasts in place.

Dr. Regan straightened and then studied the still-red wound between her shoulder blades. “Pull your arms forward just a bit,” he instructed, watching the skin stretch as she did so. “Does that cause you pain?” he asked, one of his fingers poking at an area near one of the white stitch marks.

“It pulls, I suppose you could say, but it doesn’t hurt exactly,” Charlotte answered carefully, testing the area by lifting and lowering her shoulders.

“The skin has knitted together quite nicely,” Dr. Regan commented with satisfaction. “If you promise to stay off of it for another week, I believe you can forgo even having to wear a bandage on it.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened as her smile did. “Oh, thank you, Dr. Regan,” she replied happily. Parma started to button the dress, but Charlotte waved her off when she noticed the doctor didn’t move to pack up his bag. She looked up to find him staring at her in the mirror. “What is it?” She could swear the doctor was blushing, and she turned to look at him directly.

“I must speak with His Grace about ... about ... about your wedding night,” he said very quietly, his halting voice betraying his discomfort. At Charlotte’s look of alarm, he placed his scissors in his bag and closed it.

“What about my wedding night?” she whispered, not wanting Parma to overhear their discussion.

“He cannot be allowed to have sexual congress with you ... in the usual manner,” the doctor stammered then, keeping his voice low.

Charlotte was surprised by the doctor’s words. She hadn’t considered her wound an impediment to sex with the duke; she’d been more concerned about Joshua’s wounds, especially the one on his hip, than her own. “His Grace is out riding today. I will ... I will tell him. We will ... make do,” she replied quietly, a red flush creeping up her throat and onto her cheeks.

Dr. Regan nodded, deciding his patient knew enough to protect herself from further injury. “I will take my leave of you then. I wish you happy,” he said before he bowed and made his way out of the room.

Charlotte sighed and then glanced back at Parma. The maid gave her a looking glass and she held it so she could see the reflection of her back in the large vanity mirror. The quick inhalation of breath through her teeth made a whistling sound as she studied the ugly scar. It looked better without the black tracks marking its path, but the red gash coupled with the white dots from where the stitches had been was still quite frightening. Perhaps she would wear a bandage under her wedding gown, she thought.

There was no need for Joshua to see her scar on their wedding night.

Chapter 29

His Grace Takes a Ride

Joshua Wainwright, the Eighth Duke of Chichester, mounted his horse and headed south.
My last day of bachelorhood,
he thought, not without a bit of anxiousness. Not intending to even visit Kirdford, he was surprised when his horse slowed on the wide road that led through the middle of the small village. The stallion, sensing his lack of focus, had simply taken him where he last rode as part of his circle around the southern part of his ducal lands.

How can Garrett be so ... calm ... about marriage?
he wondered, remembering how his friend spoke of Jane and their new life together as if he was looking forward to it. As if it was a life he
wanted
.

He pulled up outside the village tavern, deciding an ale and a bit of conversation with whomever might be inside would do him some good. A young boy ran up to him and bowed deeply, reaching for the reins. Smiling, he tossed the boy a coin and headed into the small building. The taproom was quiet, although the barkeep, Seamus, was quick with his bow. “What can I get for you, Your Grace?” he asked with a crooked grin, one tooth missing in the front. He wiped his hands on the fairly clean apron he wore. The bar top was clean and polished so it gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Joshua thought for a moment, still surprised to find he was in a pub in Kirdford. “Just an ale.” He glanced around, surprised at how empty the place was, even for the middle of the morning. “Where is everyone?” he wondered, turning his attention back to the barkeep.

“Working. And, well, putting together the frippery for your wedding tomorrow,” he answered, as if he was surprised by the question.

“Frippery?” Joshua repeated, a bit of panic setting in.

Seamus’ smile broadened. “Your housekeeper is earning her keep this week,” he replied happily, helping himself to an ale and leaning on the bar. “She’s got all the lady folk making ribbons and bows, or cutting flowers.”

“Really?” Joshua spoke in disbelief, finding he wasn’t necessarily surprised at the news, but hearing it making him even more anxious. “Good God.”

“And she’s got the men folk building trestle tables and benches for the big breakfast out of that oak tree that came down in the storm,” Seamus offered before he took another drink. “Says we can have them after the celebration to use for firewood this winter, if need be. Seems kind of a shame. If I might, Your Grace, I’d maybe put in to buy some for in here. Could use some new tables for when we serve luncheon,” he explained when Joshua didn’t appear to follow his reasoning.

“That sounds ... very reasonable,” Joshua agreed, nodding. “But I can’t see why you’d have to pay for them if they’re being given away for firewood.”
That poor oak,
Joshua thought, suddenly realizing just then that if Lady Charlotte hadn’t come to Wisborough Oaks, that tree would still be standing.
At least it was being put to good use,
he considered.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Your Grace,” Seamus was saying, “Is she pretty?”

The question took Joshua by surprise. “Pretty?” he repeated. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Oh, Lady Charlotte?” he asked then, suddenly not sure to whom the barkeep referred.

“Your bride, aye,” Seamus confirmed with a nod. “Is she pretty? I hear she’s from London and right pretty.”

The duke regarded the barkeep for a moment. “She is actually rather beautiful,” he said with a nod. “We’ll have to come for luncheon someday so you can meet her,” he offered before taking another swallow of the ale, noticing the sour after taste for the first time. He was aware that several women had come into the tavern, taking seats on the side where food was served. Their conversation was animated, their high-pitched voices carrying easily to where he sat in the taproom.

“The lawn will look lovely,” one was saying happily.

“And we’ve got just enough white linen to cover the tables,” another put in.

“The gown is simply divine. I don’t know how Mrs. Gates arranged to get it done so quickly, but she did,” a third said as if she was in awe.

“Have you seen the bride yet?”

“No, but I hear she’s a beauty.”

“Too bad she’s marrying a man with such an ugly puss.”

“What a terrible thing to say!”

“But it’s true. You watch. She’ll be taking a lover before the first heir is born.”

“I think the duke is a rather handsome man myself, even with his mask.”

“You’re old enough to be his mother!” A round of titters followed this statement before the serving girl interrupted to take their order.

Joshua Wainwright didn’t hear the last few comments, the ones before it burning his ears until they felt like they were on fire. Again.

Having easily overheard the women’s chit-chat, Seamus knew the duke had heard it as well. “Don’t pay that old biddy any mind, Your Grace,” he said as he leaned over. “As I hear it told, your Lady Charlotte is quite smitten with you.”

Smitten.
Joshua almost smiled at the description, but the words of the old woman came to mind and quickly snuffed out any humor he might have felt just then. “Thank you, Seamus. I must be on my way. I have quite a ride ahead of me,” Joshua said as he placed a coin on the bar. He stood up and quickly left the tavern, hoping that none of the women looked his way as he walked out, for if they did, they would recognize him immediately from the mask he wore. He nearly jerked the reins from the boy who held them out for him, nodding curtly as he did so and mounting so quickly that his horse was nearly spooked. Rather than cantering through the village as he normally did, Joshua urged his horse into a full gallop.

She’ll take a lover before the first heir is born.

Joshua tried to erase the sound of the words in his head, his attempt to do so only making them taunt him even more. Lady Charlotte was beautiful. She was duty-bound to marry him. And she might eventually come to care for him, maybe even to feel affection for him. But he would always have the scars from the fire. He would always have ‘the ugly puss.’ He would always be ‘His Grace with half a face.’

So engrossed was he in his dark thoughts, Joshua didn’t notice the landscape as it sped by, didn’t notice the tenants who straightened from their labors to wave or bow in his direction, didn’t notice the sounds of birdsong and insects in the meadow.

And he almost didn’t notice Dr. Regan before his mount suddenly slowed and reared up at the sight of the physician on his horse. Nearly dismounted, Joshua held onto the reins and kept his boots firmly planted in the stirrups until his stallion regained his footing.

“Good day, Your Grace,” Dr. Regan said as he tipped his hat, his expression recovering from one of shock the moment before. “I apologize for being in your path,” he said, expertly maneuvering his horse onto the side of the trail.

Joshua took a deep breath, realizing he was the one at fault for nearly causing a collision. “I ... I apologize, doctor. I have been too deep into my thoughts, I suppose,” he murmured, suddenly embarrassed at what had happened.

“Apology accepted, of course,” Dr. Regan replied with nod. “Let me be the first to wish you happy,” he added, his gaze taking in Joshua’s tense posture. He noticed the duke did not meet his gaze and wondered what was wrong.

At first perplexed by the comment, Joshua had to remind himself he was getting married in the morning. “Thank you,” he said with a curt nod, his expression still not cordial.

Dr. Regan regarded the duke for a long moment, saw the way he breathed deeply, as if he had run the distance from Kirdford instead of his horse. “Are you ... well, Your Grace?” he asked carefully.

Joshua’s eyes finally met the doctor’s. “Yes, of course,” he countered, a bit defensively. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. “My face hurts. My left side is ... stiff. I still cannot raise my left arm.” He listed his ills only because he knew the doctor would force them out of him if he didn’t volunteer the information.

“But you are sleeping, I see,” Dr. Regan stated.

Joshua’s visible brow furrowed as he stared at the doctor. “Yes,” he admitted then, realizing only then that these past nights spent with Charlotte pressed against his side were the only nights since the fire that he’d been able to sleep through the night. The only nights his dreams weren’t consumed by nightmares of flames licking him, of the sound of roaring in his ears, of his lungs ceasing from too much smoke, of his sister’s lifeless body in his arms as he carried her through the burning hallway and down the stairs and into the cool night air.

“She’s been good for your recovery, then,” the older man commented with just a hint of a grin.

Joshua felt a flush rise and color his throat and face.
How dare he speak of Charlotte that way?
he thought, and then chided himself for assuming the doctor’s words were salacious. “Has she,” Joshua replied finally, no hint of a question in the remark.

Dr. Regan noticed the duke’s increasing tension and wondered if Joshua was regretting his decision to marry the daughter of the Earl of Ellsworth. “I just came from Wisborough Oaks,” he finally spoke, a bit of caution in his voice. At the comment, Joshua returned his attention to the doctor. “I took the stitches out of Lady Charlotte’s back. She is healing quite well,” he said with satisfaction. He looked away for a moment and then returned his attention to Joshua. “She will still need to stay off her back for a time, though,” he said, his voice almost a warning.

Quite aware of the meaning behind the doctor’s words, Joshua nodded. “I assure you she will not be allowed to lie on her back until you say it is alright for her to do so,” he spat out, not meaning for his words to sound so angry.
At least I can be sure she won’t be seeking a lover to share her bed anytime soon,
he thought, his spiteful attitude surprising him.

“May I inquire as to what has you vexed, Your Grace?” Dr. Regan queried gently. He had moved his horse so that his was nearly alongside Joshua’s. He saw the taut muscles beneath the duke’s riding clothes, saw the tension in his shoulders and the way Joshua’s jaw seemed to twitch. “Are you getting ... cold feet?” he asked suddenly, a look of amusement changing his serious expression enough to make the doctor appear as a man much younger than the duke knew him to be.

Realizing his demeanor was too serious, Joshua schooled his features so that he appeared more relaxed. “I think that must be it,” he lied, before wondering what the truth was.

She’ll take a lover before the first heir is born.

“I must get back now,” Joshua stated as he took up the slack reins. “Will we see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice sounding much lighter.

“Indeed. I wouldn’t miss it, Your Grace. Mrs. Gates was quite insistent that everyone in the dukedom attend the wedding feast, you must know.” With that, the doctor nodded and was off toward the village.

Everyone in the dukedom?
Joshua thought in dismay. The way things were this very moment, he thought there might indeed be a feast, but he rather doubted it would be a wedding feast.

She’ll take a lover before the first heir is born.