Rising, he crossed to her, then bent a knee and took her hand between his. “Hear me out, please. In no way do I diminish the value of this Cairo trip or your writing expertise, and in fact, I heartily applaud both. But there is more to life than a career. There is family.” He squeezed her tiny fingers, taking care not to crush them. “And there is love. While I admit we have had precious little experience with these things, nonetheless, I have come to believe this is what is worth sacrificing for.”
“Oh, Colin.” Fine, white teeth troubled her bottom lip. “Surely you know I would do anything for you.”
“And I for you, but it’s not me I am talking about.”
She cocked her head, one dark curl bobbing with the movement. “Then speak plainly, Brother.”
“Very well, but remember you asked for it.” He inhaled deeply, more unsure than ever of her reaction. He’d tried to broach the topic of love before, but the little vixen was as evasive as a fox. “It would ease my mind if I knew you were well cared for, and such as it is, I desire that you might consider Graham Lambert as a husband.”
Gasping, she pulled her hand from his. “But I don’t need a man to be well cared for! Father left you and me inheritance enough to manage well.”
“This has nothing to do with money, Amelia, and you know it.” He paced in a circle before staring her down. “Unless, of course, I am wrong and you feel nothing for the man? Do you, or do you not, care for Mr. Lambert?”
She blinked, and though she kept all expression from her face, there was no denying the pretty flush creeping over her cheeks. Strong-headed woman! He couldn’t help but smirk at the struggle. If only she’d give in to that emotion, give in to the good doctor.
Averting her gaze, Amelia shoved back her chair. “Perhaps we should retire for the night. We have an early morning tomorrow.”
He stayed her with a touch to her shoulder. “Please, Cairo or not, do not discount what Mr. Lambert has to offer.”
Her throat bobbed, and a lost little girl suddenly stared out of her eyes, one he desperately wished to protect from all the evils of this ugly world.
“What makes you so sure Mr. Lambert will offer for me?”
“Because I believe he loves you as much as I do.” He pulled her into his arms, and it wasn’t long before her shoulders shook and tears dampened his shirt.
“What’s this?” He held her from him. “My plucky older sister weeping on account of a man?”
“Yes, a man. You! You big oaf.” She swatted his arm then swiped away her tears. “I find I am not so very ready to lose you.”
“And so you shall not.” He tipped up her chin with the crook of his finger. “Where is your faith?”
A small smile quivered over her lips. “I appear to have misplaced it.”
“Then allow me to restore it. God’s arm is not shortened that He cannot save, and Heismy salvation, no matter the outcome of tomorrow’s procedure. Therein you should take heart.”
She nodded, the flicker of a new resolution sparking in her gaze. “I will try.”
“I can ask for nothing more.” Bending, he kissed the top of her head. “And with that, I bid you good night.”
“Good night, Brother.”
Her voice followed him out of the room, and though she likely tried to hide the warble in it, an underlying note of worry hovered at the edges—which somehow managed to dampen his own eyes. That she cared for him was apparent, if not dutiful, being he was her only family, yet it moved him deeply. Father had been family too, yet he’d never once shown even a flicker of such love for his only son. How different things might have been had he not been born with such a grotesque visage.
As Colin worked his way to his room, he kept a sharp eye for any sign of Nemo. Since he’d discovered the lad, Nemo had taken to creeping out of the shadows each night and stowing away in his room. The boy had no idea he’d be laid up for the next week or so, and he really ought to explain the matter. Earlier that morn, he’d pulled out his worn copy ofThe Odyssey, thinking to give it to the lad as something to hold on to during his convalescence. Not that the boy could read, but the illustrations might serve to entertain.
He pushed open his bedroom door and lit the lamp inside, but no smudge-faced boy appeared. Even when he shoved up the sash and leaned out the window, scanning the backyard for any sort of boy-shaped movement, still nothing.
With a sigh, Colin backed away, loosening his cravat. The lad was smart, wily enough that he’d not chance being seen when no doubt Amelia would take up residence in this chamber until he recuperated.
He tossed down his neckcloth and padded over to the washstand. After a thorough splashing of water on his face, he grabbed the towel, then dared a peek into the mirror he usually avoided. A monster stared back, the same fiend who always stared back.
Perhaps after tomorrow, if God smiled upon him, that beast would be no more.
TWENTY-THREE
“My heart beat quick; this was the hour and moment of trial which would decide my hopes or realise my fears.”
The last chime of seven o’clock rang in unison with a peal of thunder—and a rap on the front door of Peckwood’s Surgery. Graham smiled as he reached for the knob and ushered in Colin and Amelia Balfour. This was it. The day they’d all been waiting for. Would that God might smile upon the impossibly large man dripping all over the waiting room floor and the wide-eyed beauty at his side.
