Virginia did not need to. The imperative to improve one’s perceived status at all costs had been drilled into her from the moment she could speak. It was why her parents had abandoned her to a madhouse.She was worse than useless. She was a barnacle. A mistake in need of correction.
It was not just her inability to make friends or attract suitors. Virginia had stood in her sisters’ way. She tarnished their reputations with her mere existence.
Just as she would tarnish Theodore’s if they were ever spotted together outside of these walls.
* * *
After quitting Theodore’s temporary residence, Virginia did not head straight back to the castle. No one awaited her there.
Duke was with Theodore. Mr. Marlowe was dead. Her friend Noelle had married and gone. No other permanent residents remained. Yet Virginia did not feel like being alone.
She headed instead to her friend Gloria’s cottage and rapped the knocker. Gloria had fallen in love and the banns were underway, but the ceremony had not yet happened. She would still be home.
Virginia’s shoulders relaxed. Unlike the others, Gloria wouldalwaysbe home. She rarely left her house, and never traveled farther than the castle. Gloria was as integral to their village as the rolling hills or the snow-frosted evergreens.
A maid answered Virginia’s knock and immediately ushered her into the drawing room. Gloria was reclining on the sofa with a book. When she glimpsed Virginia, a wide smile lit Gloria’s face.
“What a lovely surprise!” She pushed the book aside and sat up straight. “Shall we have tea?”
Virginia eased into the wingback chair closest to her friend. “Where’s Christopher?”
Gloria’s gaze filled with warmth. “I sent him to the jeweler to have new bearings designed for the orrery. He’ll return within the hour, if you’d like to see him.”
Virginia did not. She was glad to have a moment alone with a good friend. “Do you still read all the Society papers?”
“Dear heavens, what misdeeds are you accusing me of?” Gloria’s eyes widened. “OfcourseI read the Society papers.”
“What do they say about…” Virginia hesitated. She did not want to betray Theodore’s secret. “…the war?”
“That it’s ongoing, of course. That the French are a mix of angels and demons, Boney being the worst of the lot.” Gloria shook her head. “I feel so sorry for the le Duc family, being caught in the middle.”
Virginia agreed, but this was not the direction she had intended to take the conversation. She clenched her teeth. This would be so much easier if she could justaskwhat she wanted to know. How did anyone manage anything by relying on subtleties alone?
“I meant…” She cleared her throat. “…is there any mention of ‘war heroes?’”
“Any mention?” Gloria fanned herself. “At least half the columns and two thirds of the caricatures are devoted to illustrating military officers and their conquests. Wellington, of course. And Ormondton. Oh, and Brigadier—”
“Ormondton?” Virginia asked.
“Lord Ormondton,” Gloria clarified. “A viscount and a major. Until he left for war, Ormondton was famous for being a quick study in almost any topic, and infamous for a cutting glance apparently powerful enough to level an entire ballroom in the blink of an eye.” She giggled. “How I wish I could see that!”
“But you won’t?” Virginia asked.
“Not unless the war comes here,” Gloria agreed. “Ormondton is in France, wielding weapons far more dangerous than ‘cutting glances.’ When he returns to London, he’ll have his pick of brides, and the Society papers will have to find some other strong, handsome, victorious officer to wax poetic about.”
Virginia’s chest tightened at the mention of brides. Theodore had chosen. Lady Beatrice was the lucky lady. And as his nurse, Virginia would do whatever it took to hurry her patient back into his intended’s arms.
Even if it killed her.
Chapter 7
Six months ago, if one of his soldiers had asked Theo what he imagined himself doing upon his return to England, his response wouldnothave been, “Loitering on crutches in the Duke of Azureford’s corridor in anticipation of my self-appointed nurse, out for her afternoon constitutional.”
And yet here he was.
Being able to use crutches instead of the wheeled chair was nothing short of a triumph, but there was still a long way to go. Theo could only put weight on his injured leg for a step or two before the pain struck back.
The silver lining was that the pain was less intense each time. Thanks to adhering to his exercise regimen with clockwork precision, he could already discern more dexterity, and range of motion. He was well on the way to recovery. Another step closer to spending the rest of his life with Lady Beatrice.
