Page 83 of Desperate Proposals
“Oh,” said the doctor, with a slight initial consternation that immediately melted away as his natural affability brought forth an easy smile. “Of course, Hartley. Only say the word.”
“By the by, many thanks for the recommendation of the Birmingham doctor. Seemed an awfully sharp fellow.”
Collier nodded, reaching up to adjust his own spectacles.
“And I cannot begin to express my gratitude for handling the whole… charity business while I was in Lancashire.” Marcus glanced about, but the other occupants of the parlor paid them no mind. Even so, it was best to be circumspect.
“Not at all,” Collier began, dipping his head. But then he grimaced ever so slightly. “My housekeeper is up in arms over the whole thing. Never thought her the sanctimonious type, but… well. She’s not touched my study since I started the whole thing; it’s a right mess. Everything at sixes and sevens; I can barely locate books or journals.”
Marcus grimaced as well, but in anticipation.
Collier laughed, a low, pleasant chuckle that carried across the room, turning a few heads in their direction.
“At any rate, I’m glad to put that all to rest; it’s quite unseemly, having women at your door at all hours. I haven’t the foggiest of how you manage it! Is your mother aware, do you reckon?”
Suddenly it seemed as though every other conversation within the parlor had dropped out, making the doctor’s words sound louder than expected.
Collier’s face reddened; clearly he sensed it as well.
After a silence that felt much longer than it probably was, the gentle din of conversation picked up once more.
“Never mind all that,” Marcus said, his voice lower now. “You’re a doctor, man! Any individual might be at your door at any hour, whether lady or gentleman. And you did an excellent job in the management of the whole thing for nigh on a month.”
Collier appeared placated by the praise, nodding along slowly even as his ears were still slightly pink.
“Which is why I need you to take it on again,” Marcus said.
“What?!”
“Come now, it would only be for a few more months.”
“But what if I’ve matters outside of London—”
“You never leave London,” Marcus said, cocking an eyebrow. “Unless you’re coming to visit me.” In fact, that had been the catalyst for their friendship, once introduced; neither man had the time or inclination to leave their work in the city.
Until now.
Collier frowned. “I’d been…” the doctor began, then shook his head as if he did not wish to explain himself.
“Say no more,” Marcus held up a hand. “I presumed too much. This is not your cause, but mine.”
“It’s not… I am of the same mind as you. The problem of bastardy is not just one of morality, but of health. But there’s… well. I mean to spend some time in the countryside this winter.”
“Really?” Marcus regarded his friend with interest.
“My family wishes to see me,” Collier said, looking away, a clear evasion if there ever was one. The doctor, apparently, would not be forthcoming about whatever mysterious reason he wished to return to his place of origin in the Midlands.
Taking pity on his friend, Marcus turned the conversation on himself. “Alas, I must be in Lancashire as well,” he started, all too aware of the letter in his pocket.
“You?” Collier forgot his discomfort, staring at Marcus, taken aback. “But youtrulynever leave… you said your wife wished you gone?”
“Not my exact words, but it’s true that she does not mind my absence.” Marcus felt a stab of irritation. “Until now, that is,” he added, glancing around the parlor. It was garishly done in the style of ten years prior. Hell, why did Collier even bother with these people?
“Until now?” the doctor said with interest, his attention now focused on Marcus, scrutinizing him as closely as he could without a loupe held before his face.
Evelyn’s words echoed in Marcus’s head.Each day I find myself aware of your absence, and wonder what to tell Mrs. Gill regarding your return.Marcus swallowed. He’d never expected to experience this kind of feeling, this overpowering affection, this… yearning. Let alone for someone like her, a baron’s daughter. Arusticbaron’s daughter.
“She’s written me,” he said through the thickening of his throat. “Said she’s… aware of my absence.” He waved a hand, feeling the heat of embarrassment upon the back of his neck. “Pah, it’s ridiculous; pay it no mind. She certainly meant nothing by it.”
