Page 3 of Once Upon a Winter's Tale
“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler said, appearing almost instantly—obviously he had been waiting outside the door.
“Your speed amazes me,” Kendall murmured, shaking his head slightly. “We have visitors.”
The butler nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. They are waiting in the parlor.”
“Chambers, I should like to see them in here. Have the housekeeper ready two rooms and place a cradle in one for the Countess of Wharton.”
“At once, Your Grace.” The butler gave a quick bow before turning to leave.
“And have Cook prepare hearty refreshments, immediately,” Kendall added as an afterthought. “They must be hungry.”
The butler gave another nod and left the room.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and the countess entered, carrying her baby bundled tightly against her, followed by her maid, and a man in an overcoat and beaver hat.
“Thank you for seeing us, Your Grace,” he said, giving a bow. “I am the countess’s delivering physician, Dr. Sprocket, and I traveled here with Lady Wharton. I am counting on your discretion and have anguished over how much to tell you. This has been a most unusual situation, and the countess believes you and your wife could be her only hope.”
“Alaina, please come and warm yourself.” The duchess rushed to her friend’s side, escorting her to a leather-appointed sitting area in front of the blazing fireplace, leaving the doctor to speak with her husband. “Lawrence will help us sort this out, won’t you, dearest?”
“Yes, sweet wife,” Kendall said. “Alaina, please make yourself comfortable while I speak to your doctor.”
He signaled the doctor to follow him to the other side of his study.
Possibly recognizing the opportunity to speak discreetly, the doctor followed the duke.
The sound of the baby’s cry reverberated from across the room and reminded Kendall of his daughter’s birth barely two years ago. Lauren was a younger incarnation of his wife, and he cherished her.
“Can I pour you a drink to help warm you?” the duke asked, walking to the decanter.
“Yes, Your Grace. I would appreciate that. It was a long trip, and I’m just now realizing how thirsty I am.”
Kendall poured them both measures of brandy. “I sensed you wanted to say more. What are you willing to tell me?”
Standing out of earshot of the women, he listened as Sprocket described the Earl of Wharton’s reaction to the birth of his child and the countess’s plea for help. But it was the knowledge that Wharton had kept the poor woman repeatedly pregnant, despite the doctor’s warnings that it courted disaster for both the baby and the mother, that infuriated Kendall.
“The last baby’s death was a blow to Lady Wharton, as it was such a difficult delivery. And, I’ll admit, it surprised me the child did not survive. I came the next day, and it had succumbed,” the doctor said. “As I would for any patient, I invited the countess to reach out to me, should she need additional help. The day following the baby’s birth, her maid found me and delivered a note from the countess asking that I aid her in helping remove her and her daughter to a safe place. Had I not heard the earl’s words and the frightening innuendos in our too-brief conversation, I might have dismissed it. But I recalled the birth of the baby before this one. The child was weak, but not dead. She died after I left that first night, and I never questioned it—and now I regret not having done so, although I do not know what help that would have been. In addition, the earl describes it as having been stillborn and buried it that same day.”
The doctor glanced at the floor before taking a deep breath and looking up at Kendall.
“Understand, I am not accusing anyone of any misdeed. But the earl’s brief conversation following this birth left me extremely uncomfortable, leading me to assist her in leaving.”
“Then you feel the child was in danger,” Kendall said, holding the doctor’s gaze.
It took a moment before the doctor answered; perhaps he was deciding whether he could trust the Duke of Kendall. He nodded. “I believe the earl showed grief, rather than elation, at the successful birth of a daughter and found it disturbing. I felt compelled to assist her.” He described the brief exchanges. “And he asked for laudanum to help calm his wife when I saw no need for it.”
Kendall listened. “Do you believe the child is strong enough to travel if necessary?”
“As long as you keep her warm, I believe she can. The mother is insisting on nursing, which makes it easier in this circumstance.” Sprocket’s face colored slightly as he related this.
Kendall patted the doctor’s back and gave a slight nod. “Perhaps we should join the ladies,” he suggested. The two men walked over to the two women.
His wife was comforting her friend and looking at the baby.
“Upon your arrival, I had rooms prepared, not knowing what was happening. You are welcome to stay the evening and leave tomorrow once you feel refreshed.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I believe I will take you up on your offer.” Sprocket turned to the ladies and executed a bow. “Your Grace, my lady.”
A few minutes after the doctor left for his room, Kendall turned to his guest. “Alaina, I know you are tired, but I believe we should leave quickly, in case Wharton follows you. I know a place where I think you will be safe with your daughter until you decide to return. If you decide not to, you may remain there.”
