Page 3 of Mending the Baron's Sins
“Be warned, Orla.” Colm placed her bag down on the bed for her. “The sun does not shine particularly often here.”
She looked around at him, raising her eyebrows, but he didn’t say anymore.
“I’ll leave you to get settled. We can share dinner later and discuss the baron’s condition.” He hovered in the doorway, glancing back at her with one of those easy and warm expressions she had come to love over the years.
When her parents had been wary of her pursuing a career in medicine, Colm was the one who had encouraged her. At one point, it had seemed she was on the verge of entering a midwifery career in London when another party put a stop to it. She had much to thank Colm for, when others had told her this life was not possible.
“I am glad you are here,” he said softly. Momentarily, she heard the Irish lilt in his voice, then it was gone as he wished her well and left.
Orla hurried to unpack her things. She paid particular attention to the medicinal equipment she had brought with her, and her bottles of herbs and tonics, devoting an entire chest of drawers to these contents.
“Knock, knock.” These words were accompanied by a tapping sound on the open door.
Orla put down her things and turned to see one of the maids who had been staring at her from the top of the stairs poking her face through the gap.
“Only me,” she said self-deprecatingly with a humble smile. “I thought I should introduce myself. I’m Esther.” She curtsied, and Orla hurried to mirror her. Esther pushed back one loose curl of blonde hair that had escaped out of her coif, tucking it back under the white muslin. “I am sorry we were all staring at you just now. We were eager to see you.” She smiled and quickly quelled it. “There aren’t many who would take on the care of Lord De Rees.”
“No?” Orla said with curiosity, but Esther didn’t elaborate. “Well, I am glad to meet you.”
“As I am you. Any help in this house is greatly appreciated. I do the fires and the laundry, but you can ask for my help with anything if you need it. Can I help you unpack?” She gestured to what was left in the portmanteau.
Orla was usually wary of new people, but there was something in Esther’s humble manner and the pinkness of her cheeks as she took the courage to introduce herself that made Orla like the maid before her.
“Thank you. That’s most kind.” Orla returned to her unpacking as Esther passed her things out of the portmanteau.
“You’re Irish?” Esther asked. “I love your accent. Far nicer than mine.” She giggled.
“Thank you. Aye, Irish by blood, but raised in Manchester.”
“How was your journey?” Esther picked up a small leather bag out of the portmanteau and passed it to her. Unfortunately, the bag was unbuttoned, and a small silver ring fell out of the pouch. It rolled across the floor, in danger of tucking itself under one of the chests of drawers. “Oops, I am sorry.” Esther ran after it, managing to catch it narrowly before it disappeared. She picked it up, turned and passed it back to Orla.
With her heart hammering in her chest, Orla took the ring. It was cold and unyielding beneath her fingers. For a second, she just stood there, feeling the fluttering of her heart as she waited for Esther to ask about the ring, but fortunately, Esther did no such thing. She turned to help Orla with the rest of her things. Breathing a sigh of relief, Orla returned to the drawers.
“The journey was fine, but I am happy to be here. If I can make a difference… If I can help the baron…”
“The baron needs much help.” Esther giggled, blushed red, then held a quieting hand over her lips. “I should not speak so. Forgive me, Miss Byrne, but I give you one warning about the baron. I do not mean it to be unkind. I just wish to put you on your guard.”
“What do you mean?” Orla asked, fixing her whole attention on the maid as she took a stack of gowns from Esther.
“I mean…” Esther paused and chewed her lip, seeming hesitant about giving her full opinion. “Suffice it to say that healing the baron may be a fool’s errand. Something beyond reach.” She tucked that disobeying loose lock of blond hair beneath her coif again and shifted her focus to the medicinal kit in the open drawers. Fascinated, with her eyes lighting up, she gestured to the many glass vials. “Enough somberness for one day. This looks exciting. Would you tell me all about it? I’ve only ever been a maid. Cannot imagine being a nurse for a living.”
Orla struggled to reply. Her mind was still dwelling on Esther’s warning.
Why is healing the baron a fool’s errand?
Chapter 2
Horace stared at the shattered glass at his feet. For a moment, those broken shards blurred together. They glistened more like a viscous liquid than what they were, lethal and sharp. He blinked, recognizing the prickling feeling of tears in his eyes. He forced them away and roused his body.
Breaking every glass in his chamber was hardly going to help now, even if each one of Walter’s visits these days seemed to leave him even more frustrated and angry than before he arrived.
Horace glanced around the empty chamber, wiping his eyes and stopping any further falling of tears. The room was full of medicines and empty glass bottles left on nearby tables and bureaus. He supposed the maids had been warned not to come in so often these days, in case he threw any more glasses around the room.
“Damn body,” he muttered in anger, and moved to his knees before the shattered glass. As he did so, the dizziness swirled in his mind. He braced a hand against a nearby timber beam and bowed his head, urging the sickness to stop.
This is not me. What happened to me? What happened to the athleticism and strength of my youth?
He turned his head and glanced at a looking glass propped up against a nearby wall. In this position, he could just see the side of his body and his hand braced against the timber. There was gauntness in his cheeks, the cheekbones more pronounced than they ever were in his youth, and not in a handsome way, but an ill way. His whole body was thinner than it once was, no longer strong with muscle, still lithe, but also…
