“You seem to be interested in medicine,” Ewan asked, eyeing her carefully again.
Thea glanced down at her plate. “I had to be.”
“Why is that?” Ewan took a bite of his mackerel.
Thea dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “When my mother was sick, I read all I could in the medical field to understand what might be wrong with her. Hoping to find something that could help.”
Ewan eyed Thea over the top of his wine glass. Last night he’d realized that he’d misjudged her. Tonight, he realized that he had not only misjudged her, he hadsorelyunderestimated the lady. She was witty and well-read, her closest friend was a maid, and she’d spent her time sewing a nightrail for one of his servants as a thank-you gift. This was all in addition to what he already knew, which was that she’d spent some of the most important years of her life caring for her invalid mother when she could have easily left that task to servants.
Far from her temperament being the reason she was a spinster, as he’d so uncharitably guessed when he met her, Thea had given up her marriage prospects to care for her ailing mother. Thea was far from the spoiled pampered princess he’d assumed to her be when she’d refused to stop sneaking into his stables.
Ewan drained his glass. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so wrong about someone. The fact that Thea’s mother had had a brain injury and Thea had tended to her for months was certainly a revelation as well. She obviously had patience and was caring if she was able to do that. Phillip’s injury was quite similar. In addition to being shot, he’d been thrown from his horse and hit his head.
For the first time since Thea had arrived, Ewan began to wonder if he could actually share his secret with her. Would she be willing to help? Could he trust her to tell her about Phillip?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Please, Maggie, open the door. I need your help.” Thea sat in her wheelchair directly in front of her bedchamber door the next morning, staring at the thing as if it were an immovable boulder. It was the only thing that sat between herself and freedom. With the help of Maggie and Giles, she’d got into her wheelchair and propped up her leg. Now she wanted out of the room to go exploring. For one purpose and one purpose only. To find out who Clayton was hiding down the hall.
Dinner last night had been even more revealing than the night before. Specifically, Lord Clayton had revealed himself to be a man who did not believe that women knew much about medicine, that was for certain. Thea could almost laugh at the thought if it weren’t so aggravating. She’d demonstrated just how much she’d known, however, during their discussion of Edward Jenner. She could tell by the look on Ewan’s face that he’d been impressed with her knowledge.
As for whatshe’drevealed last night, somehow the blasted viscount had got her to talk even more openly about her mother. Other than Maggie and Anthony, who knew everything, Ewan was the only person Thea had ever told about her mother’s sadness.
The truth was that the doctors had believed her mother could have made a full recovery. But Thea knew something the doctors didn’t. Mama had been out riding Helena in the rain the morning of her accident because Father had left again for London, and his mistress.
Thea would never forget her mother’s words to her the night before. Wearing her nightrail, Thea had gone to Mama’s bedchamber to kiss her cheek and say goodnight as she always did.
Mama had looked so sad and pale. Her eyes were swollen, and she’d obviously been crying. Mama had recently told sixteen-year-old Thea the story of how Papa had a mistress in London. She’d had to explain to her what a mistress was. Thea had been aghast. She had little doubt that’s why Mama was crying.
“Did Papa make you cry again?” Thea had asked, placing a hand on her mother’s thin shoulder.
Mama had turned to Thea and grabbed her hand. “Listen to me, Thea. Don’t ever marry a man who doesn’t love you back. It’s pure torture.”
Thea had nodded at her mother, her eyes wide. Her throat had been too dry to reply. She hated seeing her mother that way, but she didn’t know what to say to comfort her.
“I mean it, Thea,” Mama had continued. “I’ve seen to it that you’ll have enough money to live on should you need it without marrying. You mustn’t be forced into it. Your father is leaving again tonight. To go back to London. Back toher. You won’t have to live a life like I’ve had to. You must marry a man who loves you undeniably.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Thea had nodded, kissed her mother, and left the room. Thea remembered seeing her father coming out of the adjoining bedchamber, two footmen scurrying in front of him carrying his trunks.
She glared at her father.
“Take care of your mother, Theodora,” the man had had the audacity to say.
Thea had lifted her chin. She understood precisely where her father was going and why. “I take better care of her than you do,” Thea had whispered.
Her father had merely continued on his way.
The next morning, Mama had gone out in the rain to ride Helena hell-for-leather across the pastures. She’d taken a path she normally didn’t take and attempted a jump she normally wouldn’t have attempted. She’d nearly broken her neck.
Upon hearing the news that his wife had been so grievously injured, Father hadn’t even bothered to return to Devon to check on her. Instead, he’d written a letter to Thea, asking her to give herhis best.
From that day forward, Thea had treated her father like a stranger. She’d seen him briefly from time to time in the nearly two years her mother was sick, but he always left for London as soon as he’d finished any business at home.
He visited mother sparingly and hadn’t bothered to see her at all the last time he left before she died. According to the doctors, Mama had died of a lingering brain injury resulting from the fall from her horse two years earlier. But Thea knew better. Her Mama had died from a broken heart.
“I refuse to encourage you in sneaking about this house, putting your nose into affairs that have nothing to do with you,” Maggie said, pulling Thea from her unhappy memories.
Maggie was across the room, folding some of Thea’s garments and placing them in the wardrobe. Thea turned her head toward the maid with an impatient sigh. “Don’t you want to know who Lord Clayton is hiding down the hall?”
