Page 20 of Saved By the Belle

Belle nodded. It was indeed too bad as that would have been best for everyone. “Did Mrs. Randall deliver her baby?”

“She did,” the doctor said, giving Belle a faint smile. “A healthy boy, though a bit on the small side. He has a healthy set of lungs on him, though.”

“That’s very good news.” She wasn’t sure what else to say, and the tea had not yet steeped long enough to pour it.

“Was it smallpox?” Mayhew asked, indicating the left side of her face. She hadn’t had time to curl the hair she usually styled to cover most of her scars, and the stringy tresses she’d left down were not adequate. Surprisingly, with all that had happened last night and this morning, she’d actually forgotten about her face. Mrs. Tipps and Mrs. Price were used to her and everyone who had stopped in had been far too concerned about the rain to look at her.

Belle resisted the urge to touch the ruined side of her face. “Yes, when I was four, it swept through our house. My father said I almost died.”

“Looks to have been a severe case. Curious that only one side of your face bears the marks.”

Belle might have pointed out one or two pockmarks on her right side. As it was, she wished he would stop staring at her. Finally, the doctor remarked, “Your scars are quite desirable as they indicate you won’t infect anyone else with the disease. You cannot contract it twice.” The doctor nodded his head in approval.

Belle had heard every platitude about her scars a dozen or more times before and didn’t bother to retort that she would have rather people worry she would give them the disease than suffer the unsightly scars. Instead, she poured the tea and handed the doctor a cup. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to see Mr. Arundel. I was just trying to persuade him to drink a bit of water.”

Mayhew seemed surprised that she’d started away so abruptly, but he gathered his teacup and followed her up the stairs and into her bed chamber. “And where is your father?”

“He’s gone to pay the rent,” she said.

“You’ve left the patient alone?” the doctor said.

“I had no choice if I was to answer the door.”

“And why is he all wet?”

Belle sighed. “He wouldn’t swallow the water.”

The doctor shook his head in disappointment. He made no move to do anything to help, however. “Take a cloth and dip it in the water,” he directed. “Then you can squeeze small amounts of water onto his lips and in his mouth.” He sipped the tea, looked at the cup, and sipped again. “This is very good,” he said, sounding surprised.

“I know,” Belle said. “Any other suggestions?” She indicated Arundel in case the doctor had forgotten the reason he was here.

“Keep giving him the laudanum and keep him quiet and still. To be honest, Miss Howard, I do not expect that he will live. But I have seen God work miracles before.” He sipped the tea again. “Really, very excellent tea. I must purchase some before I go.”

As the doctor seemed to have no other advice, save to rely on God, Belle sold him the Earl Grey then showed him out. She looked out the window again, hoping to spot her father, and when she didn’t see him, she locked the door. She turned to go upstairs when she heard a loud thump and a crash.

Belle lifted her skirts and raced up the stairs, burst into the flat, and stared at the man swaying in her bed chamber doorway. How could he possibly be up and out of bed? He’d been lying still and half-dead to the world a moment ago. “Mr. Arundel!” Belle closed the door behind her and cautiously crossed the floor toward him. “You should not be out of bed, sir.”

“I’m fine,” he said, grabbing hold of the door jamb to steady himself. “I only need to find my bearings.”

“You are not fine.” She approached him slowly, holding her hands out. “You have a fever and a knife wound.” She put her hands on his arms and patted him awkwardly. “You need to go back to bed.”

“I will live,” he said, his blue eyes fixing on hers with a clarity she didn’t expect. “I’m not going to die.”

“Oh, no.” He’d heard Doctor Mayhew’s dire predictions. They’d both thought Arundel was asleep, but they should never have assumed. Except she hadn’t assumed. That had all been the doctor.

“I agree,” she said, holding his gaze, though it made her uncomfortable. “You will not die. I have no intention of allowing that to happen. That doctor is an idiot.”

“They usually are.” To her surprise, Arundel grinned. It was a rather roguish grin that made her belly feel fluttery inside. That and the fact that she was still touching his arms. His hard, sinewy, muscled arms...

“He was more interested in the tea I gave him than tending to you.”

“What sort of tea was it?”

An off question, all things considered, but she would humor him. “Earl Grey.”

“Now I’m even more offended.” His tone was light, but it was edged with pain.

“To be fair, it was a very good Earl Grey.” Belle had a sudden inspiration. “Would you like a cup?”

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