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“I am ready,” Marina said with a breath.

For you, sweet William, I shall not fail.

The white townhouse gleamed in the late afternoon sunshine, bright, welcoming flowers blooming in window-boxes at every floor. Marina did not know what she had expected, but she had assumed that a mighty duke would be in possession of one of the grander, manor-like properties that occupied certain corners of Mayfair.

The footman ushered her inside, where she was immediately set upon by an enthusiastic dog.

“Oh, you darling thing, I am afraid I am not a veterinarian,” she cooed, briefly stooping to scratch the wagging creature between its floppy ears. “I am here for William.”

The dog cocked its head and took off up the stairs as if it had understood her and was trying to lead her to the boy.

But a rather austere man with thinning gray hair and a permanent frown blocked her path, steering her toward the drawing room instead.

“If you would just wait here for His Grace,” he said, before pulling the door closed.

A few moments later, she heard scratching on the door and the telltale whine of a distressed dog.

Well, I cannot let it ruin the wood.

She walked to the door and opened it, the spaniel shooting inside. The animal pawed at her skirts and stared up at her with beautiful brown eyes, no doubt thinking her an idiot for not being able to follow its simple instruction of ‘follow me’.

“I wanted to, dear thing, but that butler put me in here,” she explained, as she crouched down to pet the spaniel some more.

She had always adored dogs, though Bernard had never permitted her to have one. He claimed that they made him wheeze, and she had not yet come up with a way to cure him. It was the same reason that he did not ride horses, for they brought him out in hives.

The dog sat and thumped its tail, content to enjoy the attention.

A short while later, Anthony came marching into the room, his eyes wild and his breaths uneven.

“I apologize for summoning you like this,” he said, clawing a hand through his wavy, dark hair.

Marina shook her head and stood up. “Not at all, Your Grace. I am happy to be of assistance.” She awkwardly raised her medicine bag. “All I need is the patient.”

“What?” He frowned. “Yes… yes, of course. That is precisely why I called you here, for your… um… medical knowledge. My grandmother spoke of it and though I am sure it is nothing but a fever, it would be… good of you to look in on him. My son, I mean.”

Marina did not know what was wrong with the duke, why he was fumbling over his words so much, but she imagined it was a symptom of his concern. She could not fathom the panic of seeing one’s child unwell, but she would do her best to alleviate his worry.

“I have everything I need to help him,” she said confidently. “Please, lead the way.”

Anthony turned on his heel and headed out of the room, with the clear expectation that Marina would follow. She did, the dog sticking close to her, probably glad that she had finally understood him.

Upon reaching the boy’s bedchamber, Marina went directly to William.

He already had a damp compress on his brow, which was good, but she needed to assess the fever first.

“William?” she said, figuring it would be alright to use his name in this context. “William, can you hear me?”

She removed the damp cloth and pressed her palm to his brow, chewing her lip in consternation as she felt the intense heat. Next, she checked the back of his neck and found the same warmth there.

“How long has he been like this?” she asked the duke, as she began searching William’s feverish little body for any signs of a rash or discoloration.

“Half an hour, perhaps,” the duke replied, watching her intently from the other side of the bed.

“You did not notice him ailing?”

The duke’s eyes flashed with something she could not decipher. “No, I am afraid I did not.” He paused. “What are you doing?”

“Searching for anything nefarious,” she answered. “If he has a rash, he might have scarlet fever or chickenpox or smallpox… though I am pleased to say that I do not see a rash. His glands are very swollen, which is to be expected, and…” she opened his mouth and took a look inside “… there is some redness there. Inflammation.”