“I’m curious,” Marcus said once he and Lady Louise were once again alone. “What else have you taught yourself to do without using your eyes?” He crossed to the table on which he’d left his supplies and started preparing a couple of fresh compresses. Oddly, as much as he liked Mr. Winterly, he was glad the man had taken his leave and allowed Marcus a chance to be alone with Lady Louise.
“A great many things,” she said, the strain in her voice suggesting she wasn’t nearly as comfortable as her wry grin was no doubt meant to make him believe. Returning to her bedside, he offered her the laudanum once more, but again she refused.
Respecting her wish, Marcus laid the fresh compresses on top of her bedding and leaned in to untie her bandage. Her fragrance, an enticing blend of honey and citrus, assailed his senses, and he paused for a second to breathe her in.
Foolish man.
He shook himself and began unwinding the bandage. His fingertips scraped her temple. An intake of breath hissed over her lips and his gaze instinctively dropped to their tempting lushness – so perfect and…
He tore his gaze away and cursed himself for his impropriety. No doubt her response to his touch was due to surprise. “Like what?”
“When the couching failed me three years ago, I made a public spectacle of myself. Aside from the humiliation, I felt both ridiculous and helpless.” She sucked in a breath yet again when he scraped his knuckles against her cheek.
His stomach clenched as his chest expanded. Was it possible she might be responding to him on a far more basic level? That his touch affected her due to a shared attraction?
Her steady voice when she spoke next dismissed these silly ponderings. “Since then, I’ve spent several hours each day with a blindfold on, teaching myself how to manage without my eyes. I was frightened, you see - afraid the day would come when the couching wouldn’t work. The last thing I wanted was for that to happen without my being prepared.”
“So you taught yourself how to read with your hands,” he said. This woman who’d appeared timid to the point of meekness when he’d first met her was proving to be one of the most remarkable women he’d ever encountered.The bandage came away and for a moment, he stood completely frozen, allowing himself a moment to simply admire her stunning features.
Stop it.
He could not permit himself to desire his patient. It wasn’t right.
Cursing himself, he replaced the compresses, then carefully cradled her head between his hands while reapplying the bandage. She stayed silent while he worked, saying nothing until he was done and had added some distance between them once more.
“I did.” Her voice was breathy and slightly shaky, but before he was able to fully consider the nuance and what it might mean, she said, “Along with how to maneuver about in my bedchamber with ease, how to find items by giving each a specific location, how to eat without making a mess, as long as the food is arranged in a clockwise pattern on my plate and I’m not given something too difficult to manage, like peas. After a great deal of practice, I was able to function more or less normally, provided I was familiar with the space.”
“I must say I’m impressed.” He began putting his tools away in their box. “Your dedication is extraordinary.”
She frowned. “I would think it expected.”
“It’s not.” Having finished tidying up, he returned to the chair by her bed. “I’ve met people who were losing their sight - patients for whom I could lend no assistance.” He tried not to think of their suffering as he crushed their hopes and dreams by informing them he could do nothing to help them. “None put in the effort you’ve just described, though I’m sure they wish they had.”
Lady Louise made a soft sound in acknowledgement of his statement. She hesitated briefly, then said, “The way these books are embossed makes reading a slow and laborious chore. I’ve been trying to think of a way in which to improve upon it, though I’ve yet to come up with a method that can be easily adopted and learned.”
Marcus considered this notion a moment before he asked, “Have you ever heard of night writing?” When she shook her head, he explained, “It was invented by a Frenchman named Charles Barbier. I read about it in medical journals some years ago. Apparently, Barbier’s intention was to create a means of communication for the army so the soldiers could read without the need for light, in order to prevent them from giving away their position to the enemy.”
“Sounds like a practical solution to a problem.”
“One would think so, but the French government showed little interest, so Barbier approached the Royal Academy of Sciences instead. This led to a demonstration of his system at the Royal Institution for Blind Youth in Paris. As it turns out, Barbier’s system was easier than what you have there in that book.”
“How so?”
“He used a series of dots to create a simple pattern for each letter or, in some cases, combination of letters. In addition, he provided the means for the blind to write by creating a supplementary system using a specially crafted board and a tool with which to make the dots.”
Lady Louise gasped. “That’s brilliant.”
“I think so, although there is one caveat.” Marcus thought back on the people he’d watched make attempts at night writing. “The fingertip cannot feel all the dots at once. It has to run over them, so while it may be faster than trying to read an embossed Latin alphabet, it’s still not as efficient as I believe it could be.”
“I’d still like to try it anyway,” Lady Louise said. She paused. A crease appeared above the edge of her bandage. “Do you think it would be possible to acquire an example of night writing for me?”
Marcus nodded, even though she could not see. “Without a doubt once we get back to London. Here, I’m not certain, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Mr. Berkly. I truly would appreciate your making the effort.”
“More tea?” he asked, doing his best to ignore the ridiculous pleasure her words instilled in his heart.
“Please. And then I believe I’d like to rest.”
