This was her home, where she’d returned every night after performing appropriate widowhood for people who had no idea what her life actually looked like.
Henry climbed out and strode to the door.
It wasn’t locked, so he pushed it open and stepped inside far enough to close the door so the heat didn’t escape. Firewood was expensive.
The scene that greeted him made his chest tighten. In the small sitting room, a fire crackled cheerfully in the grate—the only source of warmth and light. An elderly man slumped in a chair, face slack on one side, breathing labored. A young girl—maybe ten—hovered with a blanket, while a teenage girl wrung her hands. A boy who must be Matthew stood nearby, white-faced and terrified.
Margaret knelt on the floor beside the old man’s chair, still in her ballgown. Her hair had fallen down from her coiffure, and her pale face appeared fearful.
She looked up when he entered, and shock flashed across her face. Then something that looked like shame. “Your Grace.” She scrambled to her feet. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Every protective instinct he had roared to life. She thought he’d judge this. Judge her. Judge the poverty and the cramped cottage and the desperate circumstances? She had no idea.
“The footman informed me there is a medical emergency.” He kept his voice steady and calm. “How can I help?”
Her siblings stared at him like he’d grown a second head. A duke. In their cottage.
Margaret opened her mouth, closed it, clearly trying to find words that wouldn’t come.
Henry looked at the three young faces watching him. The young girl with Margaret’s eyes. The boy, maybe fourteen, tryinghard to be the man of the house. The youngest, a girl of perhaps ten, clutching a crochet blanket like a lifeline. They were terrified. Not of the medical emergency—though that was bad enough—but of him. Of what a duke’s presence in their home might mean.
He crouched down. Made himself smaller. Less intimidating. “I’m Henry.” Not Your Grace. Not the Duke. Just Henry. “I’m a friend of your sister’s. And I’m here to help. Will you let me?”
The youngest girl blinked at him. “You’re really a duke?”
“Unfortunately, yes. It’s very inconvenient. I keep getting lost in my new castle.” He glanced at the old man in the chair, then back at them. “But I’m quite good at finding doctors. And carrying things. And doing whatever needs doing.” His gaze locked with Maragaret’s. “So if you’ll tell me what to do, I promise I’ll do it.”
The tension in the room shifted slightly.
Margaret’s throat worked. “We need a doctor. But Dr. Bromwell isn’t home and?—”
“I’ll find someone.” Henry rose and looked at Matthew. “Will you come with me? Show me where to look?”
The boy straightened, surprised at being asked, at being treated like he mattered. “I already checked his house. And Mrs. Manley’s.”
“Then we’ll check everywhere else. Between the two of us, we’ll track him down.” Henry moved toward the door, then paused and looked back at Margaret to let her see what was in his eyes.I’m not judging this. I’m not judging you. I’m here.“I’ll bring help. I promise.”
The boy’s eyes went wide. “Me?”
“You know where the doctor lives. You’ve already checked his house. You can show me where else to look.” Henry was already moving toward the door. “We’ll find him.”
He caught Margaret’s eye as he left. Saw the fear there. The exhaustion. The bone-deep weariness of carrying everything alone. Not anymore, he wanted to tell her. You’re not alone anymore. But there was no time.
“Is there another doctor?”
“Dr. Fernando won’t come,” Margaret said, her voice tight. “He’s from Harley Street but I heard he’s visiting. He has a royal warrant. He doesn’t treat—” She stopped. Swallowed. “People like us.”
“I’ll find him,” Henry said.
“Your Grace, he’s expensive. We can’t afford?—”
“I’ll bring him here.” He looked at Matthew. “Do you know where he might be tonight?”
The boy’s face became even whiter. “There’s a house party at Silvercroft Manor. All the fancy doctors go there.”
A house party. Of course.
Henry and Matthew took the carriage. It flew through the darkening countryside, leaving the cramped streets behind.
