“I would be proud to be a blacksmith’s wife,” Charlotte whispered for Seth’s ears only, nuzzling up against him.
He looked at her for a long moment. “You would be content to be the wife of a blacksmith instead of a Duchess?”
“I never expected to be a Duchess, so I would not miss it.”
CHAPTER 31
Strathaven was marked by a castle perched atop a hill overlooking the town, separated from it by a bustling stream. A stone bridge spanned the stream, linking the castle to a green where geese waddled with an air of importance.
Terraces of sandstone cottages radiated from the green along dirt streets. The spires of two churches rose above the houses. The location of the McGill Hospital was evident as their road wrapped around the shoulder of a tall hill. On the other side of the town, situated on a hill of its own, was a tall building of dark stone with chimneys foresting its roof and an avenue of trees framing the aspect which looked out over the town.
Charlotte felt a mixture of anticipation and dread.
What if I am too late? What if Amelia’s condition has deteriorated… or worse? I could not bear to lose her! Not Amelia and mother both. Please, Lord, let us be on time.
They had paused before the castle, and now Seth put his arm about her waist, nudging his horse next to hers to do so.
“We are here, and you will be reunited with your sister. Let’s complete our journey and see what fate holds in store for us. It might not be as terrible as we began expecting.”
Charlotte forced a smile and clasped her husband’s hand. The dread surged within her.
You might, at this very moment, be titleless and penniless, Seth. How could any man not resent the woman who caused him such losses? Only a saint.
Seth might be many things, but Charlotte could not picture him with a halo. She felt a sickness in her stomach at the thought that her marriage might be over before it had truly begun.
Seth urged his horse forward, and Charlotte followed suit. They traveled along a long, straight street that climbed gently, passing a church and a row of cottages. Through the windows of each, Charlotte saw spinning wheels and women busy at work. Sheep filled almost every field they passed on their way into Strathaven.
It took a few minutes to reach the hospital. It looked like a manor house, perhaps converted from the home of a local lord to serve as a hospital by Doctor McGill.
Upon reaching the end of the tree-lined avenue, they found a young man with dark hair and spectacles sitting beneath a beech tree and reading, a clay pipe sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He looked up at their approach and closed his book, standing.
“Good morning to you. Doctor Frazier McGill at your service, resident consulting surgeon and general practitioner. Can I help you, good folks?”
“I am Seth Redmaine...” Seth began, dismounting.
Charlotte could not bear it. Could not bear to hear him surrender. Not yet.
“The Duke and Duchess of Bellmonte,” she put in for him. “I believe my sister is a patient here?”
Frazier peered at Charlotte for a moment, then his face brightened into a smile.
“Remarkable... I haven’t had too much experience with identical twins. You look exactly alike!”
He appeared to shake himself, turned to put his book and pipe down the seat he had just risen from, and then turned back to Charlotte, bowing deeply.
“Forgive me, Your Graces, for my brusqueness. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I will take you to your sister now.”
Seth inclined his head, glancing at Charlotte.
“Thank you, Doctor McGill. We’ve come a long way.”
McGill led the way into the building and along hallways of bare wooden floors and white painted walls.
“How is she?” Charlotte asked.
She held Seth’s arm, and he squeezed her hand in reassurance. It did little to settle Charlotte, either on the subject of her sister or Seth’s title.
“She was in a frail state when she first arrived here—her body near overwhelmed by this mysterious illness of hers. I won’t lie to ye, she’s not out of the woods yet... But there’s hope,” McGill said with true Scots candor.
