Page 1 of A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke
Chapter 1
The gloom in the dark chamber could be felt as soon as one stepped into it. One needed not to glance around, to take in the situation before a guess could be made. The discomforting smell of medicine scented in the air, along with blood that had just been bled out, making it obvious that someone in this room, was down with a serious ailment.
The chamber’s glory shone poorly in this state. The tapestries and curtains had been brought down to guard Henry Stamford’s eyes, which now hurt from too much sunlight. Hence, the chamber was cast in a dimness that did little to show off the expensive furnishings of the chamber. The bed, made from the finest wood money could buy, the wooden floors which shone with glory, reflecting the sun’s goodness, the chairs that the Duke had specially ordered to be sent down from Greece, and the vanity from the best wood maker in Italy. Yes, indeed, Henry Stamford was a man of style, and he had this house that was art to many, to show for that. Sadly, here he was, on his sick bed, unable to stand and move around by himself, to admire the work he had taken years to put together and many more years to adore. Even when he did manage to, from his confinement, the beauty was nothing compared to what it was, under the grace of nature’s light. It was one of the things that made his soul weary, as his hope for recovery dwindled daily.
Still, all of these unpleasantries did not hinder his carersfrom making sure he got the necessary attention required. His servants moved around, getting rid of what dirt lay around. By his side, his wife, Elizabeth Stamford, sat, holding his frail hands as they waited for the servants to leave so that the doctor would commence his examination. As soon as it was just them in the room together with his valet, Callaghan, and his doctor, Mr Wimpletton, his examinations began.
He watched as Doctor Wimpletton opened the wooden box that contained his tools and brought out a stethoscope. Henry knew what was to come next –Wimpletton would request for him to be blindfolded, so that the curtains could be raised for better light. Right on cue, Wimpletton spoke.
“Err... If you would please, have His Grace blindfolded so that we may raise the curtain for better lighting.”
Callaghan marched over to him, to cover his eyes with a piece of black cravat. Momentarily blinded, he heightened his other senses so that he could be aware of what was happening around him. Callaghan’s distinctive footfalls sounded, and a few seconds later, the room felt brighter.
Henry felt Wimpletton bend over him and knew that the doctor now had his ears close to his chest to get his heartbeat. It was steady; he would tell Wimpletton that, if only he asked. That was unlikely, for it was common knowledge that the man liked to see and hear things for himself.
“His blood is still dark?”
Elizabeth gave a huge, sad sigh, and his heart ached. He hated seeing her this way.
“A little. It started to look lighter this morning. It worries me so, Mr Wimpletton. Whatever does this mean?”
“I really cannot say, Your Grace. The ailment that befalls the Duke is likened to none I have ever witnessed in my thirteen years of practice. I declare, it really is something to cause a wonder. A thing of befuddlement, I must confess.” He stopped at that and went back to Henry’s upper form.
He was still blindfolded, but he knew Wimpletton was observing him, thanks to the sunlight that now spilled into the room, making that easier to do. Earlier that morning, Elizabeth had told him that he still looked pale with sorrow in her eyes. Still,he felt flushed with the fever that ailed him. His lips were chapped, almost birthing scales, and his hair was starting to thin out. He felt so weak and tired, every day he seemed to wake up with a new pain.
He had to be strong; he knew this. But sometimes, his predicament saddened him so much, that tears filled his eyes. He desperately wished that this strange sickness would be over. That by some stroke of luck, what ailed him would be diagnosed so that appropriate treatment could commence. Unfortunately, wishes were not horses, and even a man of status and enormous wealth like him could not afford to ride.
He remained still as Wimpletton took his hand, held it gently, and then pressed two fingers to the streams of veins on his wrist to take his pulse. The room stayed quiet – no one had any interest indistracting the physician from his work with the slightest noise.
Wimpletton finally released his hands, but not before placing them carefully on the bed, lest they fell with a thud. His voice filled the air as he broke the silence.
“You may release the curtains and remove the blindfold.” At the doctor’s instructions, Callaghan dropped the curtains and walked back to his master to remove the blindfold.
Henry flexed the muscles of his eyes as the cravat came off, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. He finally focussed on Wimpletton who was now at his feet, reaching for the leeches that had been used to suture the cut on his left foot. He held a breath and pressed his lips together, swallowing the pain as Wimpletton yanked the terrible insects off.
The physician seemed to have sensed his agony, for he muttered, “My apologies.” Then as he rose from his bending position,“I have removed the leeches for it seems His Grace has been bled enough for this week. He needs his rest, and I do not want to drain him of all his blood. I shall continue to correspond with my colleagues in the country and overseas, but I must confess, I am not entirely certain about the outcome of this.”
“Mr Wimpletton, I beg you not to mince words with me,”Henry finally spoke, taking great care to do so, for even talking these days, required great energy.
“Is there hope for a recovery? Or shall this be my deathbed? If so, then you must tell me in plain words so I shall begin to put my affairs in order. I might have lived a life not as long as I would have loved to, but I shall not deny it has been a life well lived. If I have to go soon, I do not mind. I only do not want to be taken by surprise.” He needed to know.
Wimpletton said nothing for a while. He seemed to be in great thoughts, and Henry wondered just what it was he was thinking. Perhaps he was considering how best to break the news of his imminent death to him. When he finally spoke, Henry knew he had been right.
“Your Grace. I am deeply sorry and sad to tell you this. You have been on this sickbed for over two months, and I have seen no improvements. From a professional point of view, I do not think you shall overcome this, My Lord. A different case, it would have been, if we could diagnose this ailment, but as it holds, that is yet to happen. I will suggest you do as you have just said. Put your affairs in order and prepare your household. You may be taken from us at any time. Right now, we can only pray. The Lord be with you, My Lord.”
He bowed as he finished speaking and began to gather his things into his wooden toolbox. No one said anything;they were too busy swallowing the implication of the doctor’s words. Henry watched as Callaghan turned away, and he gave a grim smile. There was very little doubt that his dear valet and friend of many years was shedding a tear or two. Beside him, he heard quiet sniffling and adjusted his head so he could look at his wife. Indeed, she too was crying and her tears rolled down her cheeks in un-hushed streams.
It felt like a heavy morsel clogged his throat as he watched those tears flow. Oh, how much he hated to see her so sad, watch her cry over his bed every now and then, hear her sobs when she thought he was asleep. He knew that this was taking a huge toll on her and more for this woman he loved than himself, he prayed hard that he recovered from this. Summoning more strength from within, he swallowed the lump in his throat and reached for her hands. When he took them in his and squeezed, she looked up at him, all the love she felt evident in her eyes. It overwhelmed him.
Realising that he was seeing her cry, she hurriedly dashed away the tears with her kerchief. Then she gave him a small smile. He smiled in return, happy to see the tears gone. Elizabeth was strong. Whatever happened, he had to believe that she would pull through just fine. She covered the hand that held her and cleared her throat as she broke eye contact to look at Wimpletton.
“You said you would contact your colleagues?”
“That is right, madam.”
“In the case that no one can offer a definite answer as regards this, do you think there is any treatment you can administer to my husband, so that he could at least be strong enough to move about for his last days? The season is coming, and I would love for him to enjoy one last season. Do you not share the same thoughts, Henry?”She turned to look at Henry who stared at her in wonder. She was brilliant; he knew this.
“Is this possible, Wimpletton?” he croaked. Why had he not thought of this earlier?
