CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
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Archie sank down into the overstuffed wing-backed chair in the small parlor at the back of his shop. “If the good doctor’s goal is to exhaust me with exercise and cold water baths, I’d say he’s doing a fair job of it.”
“I met a few of his patients when I visited Austria, and the water therapy was showing signs of success,” Rathburn said, concealing his amusement when his friend raised a speculative brow. “Although, I’m sure it takes some getting used to. The hospital should be finished by the end of summer, at which point he’ll have the rest of the treatments in place.”
“The torture devices, you mean.” Archie scrubbed a scarred hand over the top of the other. “What was that paste he put on me made of, anyway? Crushed brimstone from Satan’s hearth? Burned like the devil . . .” he muttered and then lifted his arm to get a better look. “But it seems to be doing something. Not sure what just yet.”
In the same moment, Penny walked into the back room and set down a tray of fragrant brown bread, sliced ham, a hunk of cheese, and two pints of ale onto a side table. “You need to give the good doctor your trust, that’s what, Archie Smith,” she scolded, but then ruined her set-down by gently brushing back a lock of hair from her husband’s forehead.
Archie grabbed his wife’s gloved hand and kissed it, gazing up at her adoringly. “I’ll do that, pet, but only if you’re brave enough to come with me next time. Maybe you won’t need these forever,” he said, tugging at the finger of her gloves. Just then, Rathburn noticed something familiar in the embroidery—an ivy-trimmed border in a russet brown.
She let out a flustered sound, as if they’d had this conversation before, and pulled her hand from his grasp. “These are my favorite pair, as you well know. A gift from Miss Danvers—but, no, she’s Lady Rathburn now.”
He’d known for years that Emma came here. While both of them knew of the other’s involvement with the Smiths, they never spoke of it until recently. Yet still, he hadn’t told her how he’d always looked out for her, even before Rafe Danvers had asked him to act as her chaperone in his stead. He didn’t like her coming so close to the rookeries with only an elderly maid as her chaperone. So, he’d arranged for one of his footmen to watch over her. He’d even taken to scheduling his own surreptitious jaunts down the street on the days she’d come here. And not once in all that time, had he ever taken account of his strange, proprietary behavior.
However, now it all made perfect sense.
“And what of her ladyship? How is she faring with her new circumstances?” Penny asked with a smile as she handed him a mug of ale. “I know last Season she’d lamented on ever finding a husband, but I could always tell she held a soft place for you in her heart.”
Stunned, Rathburn stared at her. “You could?”
“Aye. Though she’s reserved in her way, it was always been clear to Archie and me.”
One look at his friend’s easy grin confirmed it.
Huh. Rathburn lifted the mug to his lips and took a hearty swallow. Perhaps he’d been unfair, leaving the way he had this morning. He hated to admit that a degree of selfishness had driven him to this point. It had taken every ounce of control he had, not to cross the room and pull her into his arms. He knew he’d hurt Emma, and felt terrible because of it. However, at the same time, she infuriated him.
All those unspoken words! She hadn’t even demanded to know where he was going. Furthermore, she never once brought up their future. She hadn’t mentioned children since that first day. Yet, she was more than willing to share her body with him, surpassing even the fantasy he’d had of her. In her eyes, he could see the love she felt for him . . . and yet she still held back from telling him.
“All she needed was to have you draw her out, and now look at you.” Penny lit up the small parlor with her smile.
Yes, look at him and Emma. While he had a wife who selflessly gave everything she could, she had a husband who still wanted more. Damn, but he’d been right prig this morning.
Perhaps Penny was right. All he needed was to draw her out.
She’d told him once that she’d be a fool to lose her head over him. But that was exactly what he wanted. Her head. Her heart. He wanted everything Emma kept locked inside. And he was determined to get it.