“I fear Mrs. Morrit is correct. She suffers from catarrh of the head and throat. I see no sign of lung fever but—”
Uncle Ludlow sighed deeply. “Yes, yes, always a danger. Mrs. Morrit said Dr. Gratis ordered that she couldn’t be moved if she worsened. Do you concur?”
Mia furrowed her brow and captured her lower lip in her teeth. “It does appear to be the best approach.”
“And you refused a second visit from the physician?” he asked.
“It is my experience that bleeding only brings on weakness and worsens the condition. It is what he would try to do.” They both knew the result of the quack’s determination to bleed Aunt Harriet repeatedly. They had both been left to watch her fade away.
Uncle waved her words away. “Yes, yes, incompetent butchers, the lot of them. You know that more than most.” His respect pleased as much as it startled. She had nursed her parents and then Aunt Harriet. Uncle Ludlow had left her to it but had never before indicated he thought well of her skills.
She let out a breath in relief. “Will you bring her home?”
“I thought you said it was not recommended.”
“It isn’t, but—”
“I fear I have no choice but to leave you here to care for my little girl, Euphemia. I cannot leave her here unprotected.”
She couldn’t account for the degree to which that pleased her. She was puzzled by her own motivations and complete lack of desire to leave.
“I am profoundly sorry to put you in this position.” The viscount glanced at something in the far corner of the room.
“A wise decision, my lord.” Mr. Kendrick’s voice sent Mia’s heart racing. She hadn’t seen him. He stood with one arm on the ornate marble mantelpiece, casual yet confident. “Miss Euphemia Selwyn will see to Miss Selina Selwyn’s illness with great care and ease your mind about the matter.”
“It appears I owe you a debt, Mr.—Kendrick, is it? Marshall was horrified at the treatment our girls received in the hands of that Mrs. Morrit creature.” Uncle Ludlow’s lips pinched as if the words were forced out of him with great reluctance.
Mia’s mind ran in circles. She was glad they would stay. Of course she cared about Selina, but more, she realized. She was to be free of her dreary existence at Selwyn Court and out of the path of Eustace and his horrid friends. She would be able to explore this magnificent house that she had long wondered about and perhaps even meet the would-be heir everyone spoke about.
“The problem has been resolved, I believe. Miss Selwyn, is all to your comfort now?” Mr. Kendrick asked.
A blush touched her cheek when she gazed at Mr. Kendrick. “Yes, sir, thanks to your intervention. The room is comfortable, and the servants are…”
“Respectful?” He raised one brow.
“I was going to say helpful,” Mia responded.
Mr. Kendrick’s slow smile made her toes curl. “That’s all we can ask,” he said.
She admitted to herself that the mysterious Mr. Kendrick intrigued her most of all. He was nothing like what people said about him, yet secrets lurked in his face and behavior. Curiosity was Mia’s besetting sin, and this man brought it out in her more than was perhaps appropriate. What was it about him? Perhaps in time she’d figure it out.
Uncle Ludlow cleared his throat. “Take me to Selina, Euphemia, and then I’ll take my leave.” He made shooing gestures with his hands when Mia didn’t move fast enough to suit him, and offered no polite nothings to Mr. Kendrick.
Mia led the way up the formal stairs. As they reached the floor and turned to the guest room, her uncle paused.
“A word of warning, Euphemia. I admit that man has better manners and speech than I expected, but he is not to be trusted.”
“Mr. Kendrick has behaved as a perfect gentleman, Uncle. I have no fear.”
“Don’t be foolish, girl. Appearances can deceive. Too much has been said—by his own father, for one—for me to trust the man. Keep your distance from him. And bar Selina’s door at night. Lock it if you have to step out briefly. Go to Marshall if you have fears.”
“Yes, Uncle.”Could he be right?Mia didn’t think so. Still, caution wouldn’t hurt.
*
Gideon waited untilthey were gone before he lowered his left arm from the mantelpiece, groaned, and cursed his pride. Something about the viscount made him want to stand straighter. While the gesture brought his left shoulder even with his right, now it felt like the devil.Stupid vanity. What was it about Clavering?
He remembered Viscount Clavering as a man who’d fawned on his ducal neighbor, ever impressed by both the title and the house when invited to attend an event. Gideon did not recall that the viscount had ever attended Glenmoor’s more private events, the dissolute ones that descended into debauchery of the worst kind, and that was to the man’s credit. Clavering had tended toward awe where the duke was concerned, inclined to assume the title brought with it honor and character. He’d been blind to the duke’s depravity, but he’d easily believed every word that dripped from Glenmoor’s mouth, including the vile lies about Gideon himself.More fool he.
