Hiding a grimace took all of Amelia’s concentration, but crippled or not, she must go. She would not endanger her father’s final wish no matter what it cost. Besides, as the eldest—and only other—Balfour, it was her duty to see that Colin’s surgery was arranged and performed, and she would do so with head held high. Now, if she could just make it to a chair in the sitting room before the surgeon arrived, no one would be the wiser of her injury, and then she’d prop up her foot for the rest of the day.
With her free hand, she patted her pocket to make sure the Ibis feather hadn’t dislodged in all her gimping about, then tipped her chin at Betsey. “Are you going to help me, or shall I hop about like a lame rabbit? For with or without you, I will attend the meeting with my brother and the surgeon. So what is it to be?”
Heaving a sigh, Betsey shored up Amelia as they limp-stepped from stair to stair. “You’re the one who needs a surgeon,” she muttered under her breath.
“Grumbling about the matter will not change my mind.”
“Pah!” Betsey snorted. “There’s no denying that. You do know your own mind, miss.”
Amelia cocked a brow at her. “As do you.”
“Well,” Betsey chuckled as she maneuvered them off the final step, “we are quite the pair, are we not?”
A terse truth—yet Amelia would have it no other way. Working as a lady’s maid for an independent travel writer was not for the faint of heart, which was why she’d hired the stalwart woman to begin with. Still, even iron-boned Betsey might wither when she laid eyes on Colin.
As they neared the sitting room door, Amelia lowered her voice. “I should tell you that my brother—he…” What to say? He’s a monster? A freak of nature? That perhaps she ought to leave off here and let Amelia hobble in alone?
Betsey glanced at her sidelong, a no-nonsense twist to her lips.
Amelia searched for the right words, carefully gathering them as she might a bouquet of posies. “There is a reason for my brother’s upcoming surgery that I’ve not yet told you. He suffers from a disease that causes uncontrollable and abnormal growth. He is misshapen, overlarge, and to make matters worse, he suffered a horrible burn to the face and upper chest as a young boy. In short, he is hard on the eye, abysmally so, but if you can look past that, a kinder soul you will never meet.”
Deep creases carved into the sides of Betsey’s mouth. “I am no wilting flower, miss.”
“No, you are not. I only thought it fair to prepare you for what you are about to see.”
Yet even with her warning, the second they entered the sitting room and Colin turned from the hearth, Betsey stopped dead in her tracks. Not that Amelia blamed her. Seeing his shocking visage last evening in the dark of night had been bad enough, but with sunshine streaming in the side windows, her brother’s malformation was revealed to be far more advanced than she’d credited. Amelia’s heart squeezed.
Oh, my brother. Would to God the world could see you as I do, could know the tender heart that lives inside such a hideous ruin.
But no one could look past the ape-like face with the impossibly large forehead. His lower jaw was grotesquely enormous, and one of his cheeks was offset from the other, as if bludgeoned by the flat side of a hatchet. Rippled skin pulled tight on the left half of his skull, from temple to nose and on down past his neck. His arms hung long, sporting hands the size of mutton chops, and he stood a full seven feet tall on shoes that had to be specially cobbled. The longer she studied him, the more tears burned Amelia’s eyes. There was not a mortal on this planet who wouldn’t be shocked.
Yet she loved him fiercely, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Good morning, Brother.”
“Not for long.” He shot a pointed glance at the mantel clock, where the hands closed in on noon. “I was beginning to wonder if you were to join me at all.”
“Nothing could keep me from this meeting.” She pulled away from Betsey, but when a white-hot flash of pain shot from foot to thigh, she clutched her maid’s shoulder all the tighter.
Colin frowned. “You should sit before you fall. Shall I help you?”
“No need.” She nodded towards a chair. “Over there, Betsey.”
Her jaw nearly cracked from the strain of keeping in a scream as she limp-hopped over to the chair. Ahh, but it was heaven when she sank into that cloud and Betsey gently rested her foot on a cushioned stool.
Keeping her distance from Colin, Betsey looked at her alone. “Will that be all, miss?”
A disappointing response from the normally unshakeable maid, but undeniably reasonable. “Yes, thank you.”
With her back to the door, Amelia could not watch her retreat, but Colin’s eyes did. “Quite the brave woman,” he murmured. “When Mrs. Kirwin saw me in the breakfast room, she broke into tears, and the poor little maid fainted straightaway after opening my drapes this morn.”
“Oh, Colin.” Sorrow panged sharp in her chest. The raging pain in her foot was nothing compared to the rejection and horror her brother faced on a daily basis. “Soon enough you will no longer have that effect on others. In fact, the sooner, the better. We shall have your surgery scheduled immediately, hopefully tomorrow, and by the end of next week, this will all be behind us.”
“About that…” In two long strides, he crouched at her side. “I know it was Father’s wish for this procedure, but I—”
“The surgeons Mr. Peckwood and Mr. Lambert are here to see you, Miss Amelia, Master Colin.” Mrs. Kirwin’s voice entered the room, along with the thud of heavier footsteps.
Two doctors? Why would that be necessary for a simple scheduling meeting? Amelia angled her head, but the tall and wide chair back prevented so much as a glance over her shoulder.
Colin rose. “Gentlemen, do come in. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
