Page 16 of Elixir of a Duchess' Passion
“Oh? Quite so soon?” one of the ladies said with an edge of protest in her voice.
“But it is still so early,” the second added, looking just as disappointed as the first.
With gritted teeth and seeing the look Harold’s face, Elijah thought that no matter what he was feeling, he could not drag his cousin away just yet.
“Have no fear, Harold. I can see myself home and have the carriage returned for you,” he assured him, clapping him firmly on the back of his shoulder in a gesture of goodwill. He leaned over and whispered into his cousin’s ear, “Do not do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Harold smirked back at him at that and whispered in return, “That is very little, is it not, cousin?”
Together, they laughed, and Elijah quickly said a polite farewell to the two ladies, who appeared eager to return to their conversation. Then, with a curt bow, he exited, hoping he could make it to the carriage before another bout of coughing overwhelmed him.
Though the pain in his stomach was not growing steadily, he was all too aware it had the potential to, and the last thing he wanted was to be felled in the middle of a room full of high society’s most elite members. His father would swoop in to find out the truth at a moment’s notice, and all his secrecy would have been for nothing.
So much for having fun in my last few months,Elijah thought grimly. That time was fast coming to a bitter end.
Chapter 11
Melissa had had just about enough of the ball. If not for Daisy, she might have left a long while ago. The dancing and merriment was all very good, but she was growing increasingly tired of the looks and the whispered comments being passed about, especially by those who fancied themselves men of medicine, the doctors who so often caused more harm than good. Though she had promised herself she would stay away from them, it was next to impossible to avoid them entirely, especially the doctors who served the high-society crowd that attended such gatherings. They were so well connected that over half the guest list appeared to have it out for her.
Before too long, Melissa slipped into the entryway, hoping to have five minutes to herself. Leaving the ballroom, she headed a little down the hall to look at some of the art hanging on the walls. The place was grand, as anyone would expect, and the art was fine. The paintings caught her eye with their boldness and beauty, and she might have been able to lose herself in them if not for the clearing of the throat she heard coming from behind her.
For just a second, she was hopeful. But the moment she turned to find the man standing behind her, she felt her heart drop. Mr Spurnrose stood with his head held high, a clearly disgruntled expression upon his face.
“Lady Belmont, I have been meaning to have a word with you all evening,” he announced, and from the tone of his voice, Melissa guessed she already knew well what was coming.She had seen the expression many times over on the faces of almost every man in the ballroom.
“I have not been hiding, Mr Spurnrose. What did you wish to speak with me about?” Melissa said firmly yet politely with her head held high. There was no way she would allow him to get away with his already threatening demeanor without at least offering her own confidence back. She could already see from how his face twisted that he did not like it.
“Do not think I do not know your game, Lady Belmont,” Mr Spurnrose said, glowering at her in such a way she would have liked to swipe the look right off his face with a lashing of her hand. It was only her good manners and self-confidence that prevented her from doing so.
“I am not at all sure what you mean, Mr Spurnrose.” As she spoke, she kept her gaze level with his, blinking sparingly not to miss a hint upon his face. She knew the likes of him well, though every so often, one of them might actually surprise her with something new.
“The vile potion you have concocted for my cousin.” Mr Spurnrose spat the words at her as though they tasted foul upon his tongue. In a way, he reminded her of a dog that had licked a nettle. “Do not believe I have not seen it.”
“It was a housewarming gift offered to your cousin,” Melissa said calmly, still looking him in the eye. Though her nerves were always rattled whenever someone tried to back her into a corner or threaten her about her practise, she would never allow a single one of them the satisfaction of seeing it. And Mr Spurnrose was by far one of the weakest characters to have ever attempted such a feat. “Something to help ease his suffering.”
At that, Mr Spurnrose looked like he was going to spit fire. Melissa clasped her hands before her and waited patiently for him to explode. The men of thetonso easily did so when threatened by a woman, as if they felt the need to keep all things serious for themselves and couldn’t possibly handle any feminine rivalry.
“Mycousin does not suffer,” Mr Spurnrose insisted, shaking his head, and when he met Melissa’s gaze again, she could see uncertainty in his eyes. “And if he did, he would not needyouto help him. There are any number of fine doctors he might call upon.”
Like my husband,Melissa thought, struggling not to cringe. Her husband had been a good man, using all manner of things to treat every illness. And she was certain if Thomas had given Lord Spurnrose the vial of medicine, he and Mr Spurnrose would not be having this confrontation right now.
“Mr Spurnrose,” Melissa sighed deeply and straightened her back, never breaking eye contact. “Were I a man and a doctor, would you still have come to me in this way?”
Her words gave him pause, telling Melissa all she needed to know. Though he would never admit it aloud, she could see the answer written plainly on his face.
“Stay away from my cousin, Lady Belmont; do you hear me?” His face twisted further, and Melissa knew she had already got under his skin. In fact, she believed she had done that even before meeting his cousin. Some seemed to take an instant disliking of her the moment they heard her name. Likely because it had been mentioned so often throughout London and the rest of the country, as though she was on some social pariah list, as though there was some unspoken law against having anything to do with her.
It didn’t matter much to Melissa. She enjoyed her quiet, isolated life. Though she knew the impact it had on her patients, those who were desperate and had nowhere else to go. She tried not to think of how many people had likely gone untreated and uncured over the years because they were too scared to come to her when all else failed. The women whose traumatic labours had been attended by uncaring and dispassionate men, the servants who were afraid their employers might find out, and the estate workers who could not afford proper treatment for their ailments but were too scared or reluctant to ask for her help. All these people and more she might have helped if not for men like Mr Spurnrose spewing hatred and distrust wherever they went.
“I hear you, Mr Spurnrose, though I cannot say whether I shall adhere to your request,” Melissa said coolly. She blinked only once, taking her time to do so before she added, “I have never and will never refuse to help where I believe I can be of service. Especially when someone is seeking my help. If your cousin decides to seek me out, I shall not prevent him.”
That was when Mr Spurnrose seemed to lose his temper. Melissa felt as though she could see the red mist building behind his eyes. They darkened as he took a threatening step towards her. Though he was thin and wiry, Mr Spurnrose was also quite tall, and that was the only thing about him that gave her pause to worry when he did step up and lean down to whisper in her ear, “Heed my warning, Lady Belmont. Were those in London to hear more of your witchery, that you were targeting perfectly healthy noblemen and making them quite ill, you might have a mob on your hands.”
Bile rose in the back of Melissa’s throat, and a cold shiver ran down the length of her spine, but she kept it straight and did not move so much as a muscle.
“I pity your cousin, Mr Spurnrose,” she announced. “Especially if the rest of his family are anything like you.”
As if he were surprised by her response, maybe even shocked that she had been brave enough to respond, Mr Spurnrose stepped back to look down at her once more.
