Page 44 of Tutoring a Lady into Sin
“I am fine,” Uncle Felton interrupted. “I wish to focus on one problem at a time, my boy, and right now, you and your affections for Lady Christianna present the most pressing issues.”
“Very well,” Phineas replied, but he was unable to settle back into his seat properly. He kept his eyes trained on Felton, watching the way his chest heaved as he breathed, seeing how his eyes continued to water, but he did not shed a single tear.
“This family is only being held together right now by a very loose piece of thread,” Uncle Felton said quietly. “You know the troubles your brother has gotten into most recently, and if I am not mistaken, you promised to do all you could to help alleviate some of the tension.”
“I did say as much…”
“So, why are you going back on your word now?” Uncle Felton questioned in an accusatory fashion. “You promised Percival, just yesterday, that you would endeavour to help him. But now, after spending one night with his betrothed, you have determined you care not for your brother at all.
You know this union between you and Christianna will cause a rift between the family, and that is to say nothing of your mother’s feelings. Should you and Christianna decide to run away together, how will she, or any other member of this household, be able to look upon the marriage with a kind eye?” He paused and coughed so harshly that Phineas could see his entire body shake with the effort.
“Felton,” Phineas said as he lurched forward, no longer able to stay in his seat. “You are overwrought. You must calm yourself.”
“No,” Felton rasped as he barked a loud cough. “You must consider the consequences of…of….”
“Please,” Phineas said as he laid a hand on Felton’s shoulder. “We can discuss this sensibly. We can work our way through—”
“But you do not understand—” Felton nearly choked on his words. A torrent of coughs exploded from his lips, and he fell forward, bending at the waist.
“Felton!” Phineas cried. He had seen many people taken ill during his tenure as a physician, but never had he cared for his patients or been as wholly connected to them as he was his friend who was struggling to gasp for air in front of him. Phineas positioned himself so he could rub Felton’s back soothingly, not wanting to jar him too greatly but also wanting to help loosen the phlegm that sounded like it was clogging his throat.
The door to the library swung open, and Phineas’ mother stood there. “Oh, Heaven forfend!” She hitched up her skirts and raced into the room. The mauve-coloured fabric swirled as the dowager duchess sank to her knees next to her son. “Help him, Phineas. Do something, my son!”
Phineas heard his mother’s entreaties but knew there was nothing he could do. He listened to the rattle in Felton’s chest as the older man wheezed. “He must catch his breath first. I must discern his medical history and—”
“He has been ailing for months,” Phineas’ mother quickly explained. “We kept it from you…from everyone because he did not wish to be a burden. Oh!” she wailed. “You know him. Felton, dear!” She scooted forward and placed her hands between his shoulder blades, very near to where Phineas already held his own. She began rubbing the spot, massaging in a quick, desperate motion.
“For months?” Phineas asked as he stared at his mother. “Felton has kept this secret from me. But I am a physician. I could have been administering to him this whole time and—”
“My boy,” Felton croaked as he gave one last violent cough, then raised his head slowly, “I could not tell you. I just…could not.”
“But…but…” Phineas spluttered, “we must—”
“We must get him to bed at once,” his mother ordered. She stood and crossed the room, picking up the little bell that sat on the corner of the desk and ringing it. “Did you bring your medicine bag with you, Phineas?”
Phineas nodded stiffly. “I always carry it with me, wherever I go.”
“Then fetch it at once,” his mother commanded. “I fear we have not a moment to lose.”
“But what about…?” A weak protest rose to Phineas’ lips, but then he glanced from his mother to his sick friend. “Never mind. I shall meet you in Felton’s bedchambers immediately. I hope you have not concealed this ailment so long that I cannot be of any assistance.”
“Phineas,” Felton whispered, “Even if the worst should come, do not—”
“No!” the dowager duchess shrieked. “Do not say such things. Do not even think about them. Just…Phineas,” she paused and looked at him with a beseeching stare. “Please hurry. We need your help and cannot delay matters any longer.”
Chapter 19
“Miss Scriven,” Christianna said as she wound her way through the parlour and found the dowager duchess’ lady’s maid sitting there doing some sewing, “have you perhaps seen His Grace or even Doctor Radcliff this morning?”
The young woman tipped her head to the side thoughtfully and gave the quandary an exceedingly tremendous amount of consideration. “Have you asked Miss Fitzroy?”
“Do you thinkmyMiss Fitzroy has somehow encountered either of the gentlemen?” Christianna returned in a slightly bewildered fashion. She had spent the last twenty minutes scouting around the manor for Phineas, and she would not have even thought to ask Miss Scriven for her assistance with the matter had she not happened upon her. But the lady’s maid’s curious reply had Christianna wondering if she was perhaps missing a trick.
“My lady, I always say it is prudent to be thorough,” Miss Scriven said quietly as she bowed her head and continued with her work. Christianna felt oddly as though she had just been dismissed by the woman, and as she backed out of the parlour, she tried to make sense of this encounter.
Have I somehow offended Miss Scriven? Is there a reason the dowager’s lady’s maid would be so…
But even in her thoughts, it was difficult to describe the mannerisms fully. Miss Scriven had not been rude, nor had she shown any signs of condescension.
