Page 19

Just then, William murmured something.

Leaning in, Anthony squeezed his son’s hand tighter. “What did you say, my boy?”

“Want… the broken… heart lady,” William croaked in his delirium.

“Broken heart lady?”

The boy’s brow furrowed as if in terrible pain. “Marina. I… want to see… Marina.”

“Marina? What do you want her for?” Anthony pressed, but William did not speak again, his head turned onto the pillow, his eyes closed, his brow still furrowed in troubled lines.

Blast it…

How could Anthony possibly deny his son’s request, if there was even the smallest chance that Marina’s presence might help? She was no doctor, but maybe she could offer the boy comfort that Anthony did not know how to show.

“Very well,” he said reluctantly, letting go of the boy’s hand. “Very well; I shall send for her.”

And I pray that it helps… and this is not a trick.

He pressed his hand to his son’s brow one last time, just to be sure. Unless the boy had put his forehead right in front of a fire two seconds ago, there was no way that this was another scheme to get his father a wife.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Pardon?” Marina stared at the breathless, unknown man who had intruded on her private reading.

After her conversation with her uncle earlier, she had gone to the townhouse’s library and sought out the works of a few philosophers to compare their opinions of love, both the skeptics and the believers, the analysts and the poets. She was none-the-wiser as to why people fell in love, or the purpose it served.

The man held his ribs. “His Grace has summoned you.”

“His Grace?” Marina blinked. “You mean, the Duke of Knotgill?”

It was not as if she knew any other dukes.

The man nodded. “I have been sent to fetch you.”

“May I ask why?” Marina placed a dried chamomile flower to save her page and slowly closed the book.

“The young master isn’t well,” the man replied, his breath evening out. “A fever.”

Marina was on her feet in an instant. “Well, why did you not say so sooner?”

If it was for the sweet boy, she would not hesitate. Although… now that she thought about, how did the duke know that she could help? Why would he summon her instead of a physician?

It must have been my uncle’s conversation with the dowager.

That explained it. Bernard never missed an opportunity to talk about Marina’s talents for medicine and remedies. Not to mention, she had informed the dowager herself of her interest in such things.

It still seemed absurd that the duke would ask for her instead of a physician, but she was not without her pride. A pride that swelled at that moment, buoyed up by the notion that he had confidence in her abilities.

“I shall not be a moment,” she said to the man, and hurried out of the library, up toward her bedchamber.

Thank goodness I insisted on bringing one of everything with us!

Her heart raced as she packed an array of tonics, tinctures, powders, and a cooling salve, for she had never actually been asked to help heal anyone before. All of her skills were theoretical, but she was sure of them.

Indeed, it rather felt like all of the years of her diligent studying had been for this exact moment.

Once she had everything she needed, stored safely inside the leather medicine bag that her uncle had given her for her last birthday, she practically flew down the stairs. The messenger had managed to catch his breath at last, and he stood waiting for her by the door.