Alasdair went into the room next door, Dr. Murray’s wife’s former bedchamber, took off his boots and laid down on a chaise in his shirt, waistcoat, trousers, and went unconscious for twenty-two hours.
He only woke because of a knock.
“Dr. Andrews?”
It was Dr. Murray’s butler, the one who had let him in four days ago and directed him to Dr. Murray’s bedside.
“There is a letter for ye.”
Alasdair sat up and took the letter.
“Shall I bring ye some tea?”
Alasdair peered at the front of the letter. “Aye, please.”
It was addressed to him in Harry’s poor handwriting. The letter was quite fat. He broke the seal and another letter, a smaller one, folded and sealed, fell out of the now-loose pages. The loose pages were addressed to him and dated just three days ago. This letter must have come by some kind of exceedingly rapid express rider. He must make sure that Dr. Murray’s butler was not out money for the letter’s delivery.
Dear Alasdair,the letter ran.I hope this letter finds you et cetera. Tommy tells me that your mentor is ill. Well, if anyone can make him well, it would be you. I am hoping that when your teacher recovers, I could trouble you to deliver a letter to my sister for me.
Upon reading the wordsmy sister, his body was covered in a cold sweat. He picked up the sealed letter that had fallen out of the loose pages.
Miss Arabella Lovelock.
AndThe School for Girlswas written underneath.
And thenDunburn. Dunburn, Scotland.
She was not in the New World at all. She was in Dunburn. And he knew Dunburn. Dunburn was not six or seven miles from Bailebrae. Where his uncle’s farm had been. Where he had grown up until his aunt and uncle had died of typhus within a week of each other.
And he had told Arabella—he knew he had—that he had grown up in Bailebrae. Did she remember that?
No, that was madness.
The miracle that she was here in Scotland must be enough for him. And her own sister had addressed a letter to her as Miss Lovelock. She was not married. And he had a reason to see her, Harry had given him a reason to see her. To deliver a letter.
He went back to his own letter from Harry.
Given my impending confinement and the difficulty of my pregnancy, I very much want both my own physician and my own sister with me. You must deliver the letter yourself and place it in her hand. And you must make her feel the import of my situation and my request. She will not say no to you, I assure you.
You will also impress upon her that she must not make any important decisions, any binding decisions, before leaving Scotland. She should abandon everything immediately and come south with you. Please engage a private carriage and driver at Tommy’s expense. However, once you begin your journey with my sister, there is no reason to hurry, and I hope you will stop and see some sights before making your way to Sommerleigh.
Alasdair thought that this was beyond the normal limits of Harry’s eccentricity. She had surely gone mad. First, she wanted Arabella to rush away and then for her to take a leisurely pleasure trip through Scotland and England with him. Withhim. The whole plan was madness. And highly improper.
Highly. Improper.
And was that why his mouth was so dry? No, surely that was from sleeping with his mouth open for a day. And why was his heart racing? And why did he have the feeling in his roiling stomach that he might regurgitate? Even though he had not eaten in two days?
And then his nuisance of an engorgement at the thought of seeing Arabella.
Not. Now. He had plans to make.
The butler came in with his tea. Alasdair, clutching his precious letters, jumped up from the chaise.
“I need to hire a coach. A coach to go north. To Caithness.”
The butler looked askance at him.
“Now!” Alasdair barked and the butler jumped and spilled the tea.
