An Unwelcome Suitor (Entangled Inheritance Book 4) Page 2
I exhaled with content. I had not seen her so happy in years. I was not acquainted with Mr. Gilbert Robins, but based on Juliana’s description of his character, it was likely I would find him worthy of her, no matter what his financial situation was. “Are you absolutely certain of Gilbert’s affection? He is not a fortune hunter, is he?”
“Oh, heavens no.”
“Does he love you very much?”
Juliana’s cheeks darkened a shade. “I believe so.”
I squeezed her arm. “Then I have no objections to make of him, though I should like to hear him praised as thoroughly as the physician before I believe Gilbert is superior to such a man.”
Juliana snorted. “I will never have Aunt Augusta’s talent for spinning words of flattery, even to one so deserving of it as Gilbert.” Her smile grew, revealing a dimple in her right cheek. “Oh, and Gilbert is deserving of every kind word one could give. He is worthy of Aunt Augusta’s praise more than any other man.”
“Yet she would never give it.” I released her arm, walking several paces ahead before turning to face Juliana. “You know how stubborn she is. Do you think she will ever approve of your affection for Gilbert?”
“Our conversation today gave me hope. She wishes me matched with Dr. Pembroke, and he is not wealthy or titled. Perhaps Gilbert and his little cottage will be enough once she meets him and ascertains his many virtues for herself.” Juliana fiddled with the pink ribbon at her waist, her blue eyes contemplative. “Even if she does not approve, I could never refuse him. His lack of wealth will not matter if we marry, for I will have Brookhaven eventually. He and I will lead the household and you and Martha and his mother and sister will live there comfortably. I do not see any faults in this plan.”
“Nor do I.”
I swept my gaze over the lush, open hills. To the right, I caught sight of Oakley Manor. The red brick facade wore a spread of ivy on its right side, the lawn neat and well cared for by the staff. Its solitary resident, Miss Charity Oakley, walked down the front steps with an enthusiastic wave.
“Juliana! Lizzie!” Her black, glossy hair was curled tightly around her face, her hazel eyes as deceptively innocent as ever.
I groaned inwardly as she approached.
Charity was well-acquainted with every rake in Berkshire and London combined. Credit was due to her ability to hide her sullied reputation, but that did not make her any more respectable.
Her beauty was unmatched, and so was her ability to make her character appear every bit as pristine as her exterior. I had heard countless stories about the roguish men whose company she so often kept. How she managed to appear so sweet and innocent was lost to me. Her flirtations at every card party and soiree were publicly displayed—until she disappeared into the dark hallways or gardens. It was no wonder she was twenty-seven, unmarried, living all alone out in the country. No man would care to marry a woman with such a reputation, but it did not stop the rakes from enjoying her company.
“Charity, how do you do?” Juliana gave her a warm greeting. She knew the rumors as well as I did, but Juliana treated everyone with kindness, no matter their level of propriety.
“I am quite well today. I could not resist the warm weather.” Charity coughed into the crook of her delicate arm. “Pardon me.” She smiled up at the clouds that barely covered the sun. “It has been quite some time since I have ventured outside. Isn’t it lovely?”
“Quite.” I replicated Juliana’s warm smile. “Juliana and I were just going to visit a friend, so we must be on our way.”
“May I come along?” Charity asked. “The exertion of a walk is just what I need today.”
I shared a quick glance with Juliana. “I—I’m afraid not. Our friend is quite ill, and we would hate for you to catch anything.”
“Oh, dear.” Charity nodded. “Thank you for the warning. I shall stay right here.” Her eyelashes fluttered down in masked disappointment. “It was a pleasure to see you both.”
“You as well.” I pulled on Juliana’s arm, urging her to walk faster. It would not be wise for us to be seen entertaining Miss Oakley.
“Eliza.” Juliana’s quiet tone carried a hint of scolding as we walked away. I had grown accustomed to her motherly behaviors. “You mustn’t be so rude to Charity.”
“It is her own fault that she struggles in keeping friends. It is a risk to associate with her.”
Juliana sighed. “It is a pity that such an amiable girl has made such daft decisions.”
“She only acts amiable. If she had her cap set at Gilbert she would fight you with nails and teeth and have not a wisp of mercy.”
“Eliza! You do not know that.”
I shrugged. “Do not be deceived, dear sister. There is a look in her eyes that tells me she is raising some kind of breeze at all times. A pure mischief-maker. Have you not heard the rumors?”
Juliana raised one eyebrow at me. “They could be completely false.”
The conversation faded until Juliana pointed east at a small cottage, not far from Oakley Manor. Her shoulders squared with pride. “See, look. There it is. Gilbert is likely outside at this hour working in his gardens.” She pulled on my hand, urging me to walk faster. “His mother will be inside, no doubt, taking her tea with her daughter.”
The grass grew longer the closer we walked to the cottage, tickling against my ankles as we walked off the path. I had seen the house in passing many times, but had not realized it belonged to Gilbert. From its outward appearance, I would have guessed it to contain two bedrooms, and maybe a sitting room and small kitchen. As Juliana predicted, a man stood outside, squatting over a bed of plants, tossing dirt into a nearby bucket.
“Gilbert!” Juliana called.
He looked over his shoulder, revealing a youthful, handsome face. His mouth immediately broke into a smile. He stood, dusting off his trousers before walking toward her with large strides. I let go of her arm and took a step back, allowing Juliana her greeting.
As Gilbert came closer, I noticed his brown, slightly curled hair and brown eyes, just as Juliana had described him. She had met him on a walk three months before, and she had been quite smitten ever since. By the way Gilbert looked at her, I guessed that he had been too. “If I had known you were coming I might have made myself more presentable.” Gilbert took her hands, pressing his lips to the top of each. His eyes shifted to me, and Juliana pulled me forward.
“This is my sister, Eliza.”
Gilbert gave a friendly smile. “Ah, it is an honor to finally meet you.”
He had a very friendly face. I could think of no man better for Juliana. I had only known him for a mere ten seconds and I already liked him. “I have been quite eager to make your acquaintance. Juliana has spoken highly of you.”
He turned his gaze toward her playfully. “Has she? Well, I am quite glad to hear that I am not alone in speaking highly of myself.”
Juliana snorted. “Why must you put on such pompous airs in all attempts to amuse me?”
“I have little if not my pride.” He winked.
Juliana slid her eyes to me in a look of vexation, though her grin betrayed her amusement. She turned her gaze back to Gilbert. I had never seen Juliana stare so adoringly at anything or anyone. I held back my squeal of delight.
“Please, come inside for tea,” Gilbert said. “My mother and Frederica would love to see you. And meet you, Miss Eliza.”
We followed Gilbert inside. The interior of the cottage was neat and clean, but just as small as I suspected. Mrs. Robins was a lovely woman, as genuine and kind as her son. She seemed to adore Juliana, her opinion unhindered by the difference in her social standing. I had yet to meet a person that did not adore Juliana, so I was not surprised by Mrs. Robins’s approval of the match.
Frederica, Gilbert’s sister, was a quiet girl, but maintained a constant smile, just like her elder brother. Despite their humble living, their family seemed happy. The lines of laughter on Gilbert’s face had not appeared from nothing. Juliana l
aughed more with Gilbert than I had ever seen her laugh, and her usually prim expressions and guarded nature did not exist there within those tiny walls and by Gilbert’s side.
Juliana had never required a lot to be happy. She found happiness in the smallest of places. She did not ask for much. My heart soared all over again at the thought of Gilbert and his family being able to move to Brookhaven, to abandon their cramped cottage and reap the benefits of the estate’s income. Although society might be reluctant to accept them, Frederica would have a greater opportunity to make a respectable match.
After a refreshment of stale tea and ginger biscuits, we bid our farewell and began the walk back to Brookhaven. Martha was likely wondering where we had gone, and Aunt Augusta never napped for long.
“Did you like him? Do be honest.” Juliana’s voice came out quick.
“I liked him very much.” I sighed. “He adores you, there is no question.”
Juliana pressed one hand to her cheek. “Do you think I should tell Aunt Augusta?”
I tapped my chin. “Tell her only once there is an agreement between you. If you are engaged, she will have nothing to do but pout over it rather than convince you to marry Dr. Pembroke instead.’”
“Dr. Pembroke, indeed.” Her eyes rounded. “There has never existed a man of such pure perfection.”
A laugh burst from my throat. “I am still not convinced he is more than a legend.”
Juliana’s eyebrows wiggled. “We shall meet him next week and discover the answer.”
I pulled back on her hands, spinning in a circle. “And by my estimation you will be engaged to Gilbert before summer’s end.”
Juliana’s laughter rang out, warm and free as we spun on the grass. My own lips stretched wide as I laughed, and my cheeks and stomach ached. Of all the aching I had known in my life, that which was caused by laughter was a balm to all the others.
Chapter 3
I might have assumed the Prince Regent was coming to call for all the care Aunt Augusta took in the presentation of the house. In the last week, my great-aunt had taken to spending most of her days in bed. Her health seemed to be declining at a steady rate. With each day that passed her complexion grew paler and her body grew thinner. But that did not stop her from putting the servants to work.
“Pinch Juliana’s cheeks again,” she said to the nearby maid, Isabel. “We cannot have her lacking color when Dr. Pembroke arrives.”
Juliana, Martha, and me sat in Aunt Augusta’s bedchamber, all in a row of chairs beside her bed. Juliana cast me a look of long suffering as Isabel obeyed, stooping over to clasp her cheeks between vice-like fingers.
I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.
Aunt Augusta watched from her reclined position in bed. Sinking into a multitude of pillows, she appeared even smaller than she had the week before. Her face and cap were all that escaped the bed linens. “Pinch Elizabeth’s cheeks too, perchance Dr. Pembroke takes a fancy to her instead.”
My face fell. “What—”
“Do not complain,” Aunt Augusta snapped. “You would be fortunate indeed if he noticed you, and a ghostly complexion will achieve nothing.”
Isabel’s cold fingers pinched at my face until it throbbed.
“Better.” Aunt Augusta rolled to one side. “Let us hope Dr. Pembroke arrives before the color fades, or Isabel will have to repeat the process.”
For the first time, I found myself hoping for the physician’s speedy arrival. Martha giggled beside me, and I chided her with a half-hearted scowl. She only laughed harder. I envied Martha for being the youngest, and for her naturally flushed cheeks.
I eyed Juliana, noting the glow in her complexion that had nothing to do with Isabel’s pinching, but everything to do with her morning visit with Gilbert and his family. She had yet to tell Aunt Augusta of her courtship. Knowing of Aunt Augusta’s stubborn nature, Juliana was wise to keep it a secret for a little longer. If our great-aunt discovered that Juliana was courting another man, not her precious physician, then she might be even more inclined to force the match.
Aunt Augusta squinted at the timepiece on the pillow beside her. “Only ten minutes remain before his arrival at noon.”
I checked the time, frowning. “Noon has passed.”
“Nonsense. The time clearly reads ten minutes to the hour.”
In reality, the time was ten minutes past the hour, but no amount of insisting could convince Aunt Augusta she was incorrect. “It seems your physician lacks punctuality.”
“He lacks nothing.” She glanced at Juliana. “Nothing except a wife.”
Juliana seemed to choke on her own saliva. She cleared her throat, pressing her hand to her chest.
Not a minute later, a knock sounded at the door, calling Aunt Augusta’s full attention. “Do come in.” Her eyes snagged on me. “Sit straight,” she hissed.
I pressed my spine against my chair the moment the door opened.
A footman held the door with one gloved hand, his pale livery and powdered wig in stark contrast to the man behind him. The footman stepped aside, affording the room a full view of Aunt Augusta’s darling. “Dr. Luke Pembroke,” the footman announced.
I craned my neck to see above Martha’s curls. The physician dominated the doorway, a cloak of dark colors from top to bottom—hair, tailcoat, trousers, and boots. He appeared younger than I had imagined him to be, likely new in his profession. He had to be younger than thirty. And he was tall—his hair nearly grazing the top of the doorframe as he entered the room. I continued to study him as he approached Aunt Augusta with authority in each stride.
“Mrs. Cluett, how are you feeling today?” The depth of his voice didn’t surprise me at all. Only such a baritone could belong to a man with his appearance, and Aunt Augusta had compared it with a cup of warm chocolate. But where was the friendly nod? He did not even spare a glance toward my sisters and me.
“I am feeling quite well, Dr. Pembroke.” Aunt Augusta reached a quaking hand out from her blanket, beckoning him closer. “I thank you for arriving a few minutes early.” She batted her sparse lashes. “Your social graces continue to astonish me.”
I glanced at the timepiece. It was now eleven after the hour. He most certainly was not early. I crossed my arms, fixing my gaze on the physician, who stood on the other side of Aunt Augusta’s bed. She had claimed him to be honest. An honest man would deny that he was early and own up to his late arrival.
Dr. Pembroke sat in the chair appointed to him and opened his black bag. “Forgive me, Mrs. Cluett, but I am not early.” He raised his gaze with a slight smile, one that brought out a crease in his left cheek. Quite a handsome face. “I am a few minutes late this afternoon.”
Hmm. I tapped my knee as I observed him. Honest, yes, at least in this moment. But after Aunt Augusta’s extensive list of praises, he still had much to own up to.
“That is no matter.” Aunt Augusta’s tone had taken a much higher pitch, one that was almost flirtatious. “Please, Dr. Pembroke, meet my three great-nieces.”
He stood, offering a bow in our direction.
Coming to our feet, we offered our curtsies. My eyes met his across the bed as I raised my gaze. Were his eyes grey as Aunt Augusta had claimed? I could not discern the color from my distance. His lashes were quite dark, sweeping down to hide his eyes from my view as he examined the contents of his case.
I smirked to myself. I would quite enjoy my new game of determining which of Aunt Augusta’s claims proved correct about the physician. Thus far I knew he was somewhat honest and handsome. His voice was indeed rich, but his greeting had lacked a friendly nod. It was more of a mechanical, stiff one.
Aunt Augusta swept her hand across us, beginning with Juliana. “The eldest, Miss Juliana Watts, Miss Elizabeth, and the youngest, Miss Martha. They have lived with me here at Brookhaven these past six years.”
Dr. Pembroke hardly looked at us, rummaging through his bag again. “What an honor. Your estate is the finest in the county.”
I exchanged a glance with Juliana, whose lips were pinched so tightly they turned white. Her eyes glinted with laughter and her shoulders shook.
“If you wish to offer any praise,” Aunt Augusta said, “it should be offered toward my Juliana. She is a beauty as well as a very accomplished singer.”
I choked. “Aunt Augusta—”
She shot me a berating look. “My Elizabeth is quite outspoken, though I am certain you will find much in her character to admire. Both young women are quite unattached.” The sweet smile that followed did little to take away from the awkwardness in the room. Those advanced in years seemed to forget to practice what they taught their young relatives. I was not half as outspoken as Aunt Augusta.
Dr. Pembroke seemed unphased. He must have encountered many patients lacking their own ‘social graces’. He withdrew a cylinder from his bag that appeared to have been made from a thin stack of bound foolscap. He offered a quick smile in Aunt Augusta’s direction. “I have no reason to doubt that your great-nieces are very admirable indeed.”
Aunt Augusta coughed. I cringed at the rattling sounds within her chest. She gasped for air, still not abandoning her smile. “Oh, Dr. Pembroke, that is very kind of you to say.”
His brow knit together with concern, and he placed one end of the cylinder against her chest, pressing his ear against the other. “Take a deep breath.”
Aunt Augusta breathed deeply, the motion causing her to cough all over again. The physician’s jaw tightened as he listened through the tube.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked.
His eyes flicked up to mine, but he said nothing. He moved the position of the tube to the left side of her chest, taking her wrist in his hand at the same moment. Was he testing her pulse? He felt her forehead, her ribs, and eventually withdrew the cylinder. I recognized the methodical practices of a physician, but it was the man’s worried expression that caused my stomach to twist with dread. The room became cloaked in silence, and I could hardly bear it.