Page 6 of A Touch of Charm
“He’s a doctor,” Stan said, eyeing Mary sternly as the little girl settled into the seat. “Who’s the child?” Stan asked in Romanian, and Thea was sure Mary didn’t understand. She’d been tasked to teach her a little French and a lot of Latin, but her skills did not follow their conversation.
“I’m her governess. It pays for the passage. How would I have a six-year-old daughter in less than a year since you last saw me?”
Stan harumphed and shifted uncomfortably. “So, you did run away?”
“I came to find you.”
Stan sighed. “Why?”
Thea had forgotten how well he knew her. Of all their siblings, Stan was the closest in age, and they’d been inseparable as children until he left for university in Vienna.
“Can’t a sister miss her big brother?”
“Not if she’s supposed to marry the Habsburg prince this year. I’m not your escape, Thea.”
I’ll be the judge of that.
“Well, what I am supposed to do, and want to do, rarely overlap.”
Stan slumped into the seat and rubbed his knuckles. Thea noticed they weren’t bleeding this time; he’d been in worse fights.
“He needs a splint, but he can take us to London.” Andre climbed into the carriage, then sat next to Stan. “I’ll have to take him to the practice first.”
Stan nodded.
Andre’s demeanor had changed, and he seemed entirely in control now. He was enviable, thinking several steps ahead with a calm mind and the poise of a man with a clear path. Even a commoner had more control over his life than Thea ever had.
“Which practice?” she asked in fluent English, which seemed to take Andre by surprise, judging from his eyes that darted in her direction.
“87 Harley Street. London,” he said curtly.
The carriage resumed its journey, the night air cool against Thea’s flushed skin. She remained close to Mary, who’d put her head on Thea’s lap and soon fell asleep.
It was uncanny how Mary could sleep after the night’s excitement, but it was still night, and long past her bedtime. Thea’s heart was still pounding from the shock of the attack. Despite the chaos and fear, Thea felt a strange sense of trust. The road ahead remained uncertain, but one thing was clear—this encounter had changed everything.
She glanced up at Andre, his eyes steady and reassuring. She knew she would do whatever it took to protect Mary and stay close to her brother, but she couldn’t help but wonder about the man who had shielded them with his body.
“Who is he exactly?” Thea asked Stan in Romanian.
“I can speak for myself,” Andre answered in English. There was a sweet lilt to his pronunciation.
“Italian?” she whispered, pressing a hand over Mary’s ear; the other was already against Thea’s thigh.
“Dr. Andre Fernando is from Florence.” Stan said.
Thea shot her brother a glance. “What are you doing colluding with the Florentines?” she reverted to English since there didn’t seem to be a language left the handsome stranger couldn’t understand.
Stan rolled his eyes. “He’s not one of them. He studied in Vienna, and he’s a friend.”
“A commoner,” Thea said and arched a brow and wondered what else there was to the connection between her brother and this doctor. Even in the dim light in the carriage, she could see his intelligent eyes and bright smile, and she’d felt his muscles when Stan thrust her against his chest. Like her brothers, he was strong. Stan, Alex, and the other two had been trained for combat. War. She’d never met a doctor as strong as a warrior.
“What kind of doctor are you?” Thea asked.
“Orthopedist. Bones, and—”
“I know what an orthopedist is.Orthosis Greek for straight or correct, andpaideiameans education.”
“It’s a term coined by the French physician Nicolas Andry. I studied his original treatise.”
