Page 53 of A Rogue to Ruin
Selina surveyed the room. “I’m nervous.”
“I am too.”
A woman emerged from the same doorway where the maid had disappeared. Her dark hair was almost completely covered by a cap, and her features were drawn tight as if she was nervous too.
“Lord Stone?” she asked tentatively, her gaze flicking toward Selina. “Lady Selina?”
“Yes,” Selina answered. “You are Mrs. Gill?”
The woman, who was perhaps ten years older than Rafe, nodded. “How can I be of assistance to you?” She clasped her hands in front of her narrow waist.
“I’ll get straight to the reason for our visit,” Rafe said. “We’re looking for your sister, Pauline Blaylock. Do you know where we can find her?”
“It’s imperative we speak with her,” Selina added.
The flesh around Mrs. Gill’s mouth tightened and paled. “She’s here. She’s quite ill, however. Indeed, she isn’t expected to survive much longer.”
Rafe and Selina exchanged a panicked look. If they’d delayed the trip another day… Thankfully, they hadn’t. “May we speak with her? As my sister said, it’s incredibly important.” Rafe asked.
Mrs. Gill cocked her head to the side. “She worked for the Earl of Stone, but that can’t have been you. That was years ago. I was a child when she left to take the position.”
“She was our nurse,” Selina said, sounding a trifle impatient. “May we see her?” She took a breath and smiled, perhaps realizing she seemed anxious. “She used to sing to me. I don’t recall much from when I was young, but I remember that.”
“Her voice was from the angels,” Mrs. Gill said with a nostalgic smile that quickly faded. “She hasn’t been able to sing for some time now. Come, I’ll take you to her room.”
The innkeeper’s wife led them back through the doorway from whence she’d come. Rafe followed behind Selina, his body thrumming with anticipation.
They moved down a narrow corridor to a room at the end. Mrs. Gill opened the door and invited them inside. A figure formed a small lump in the bedclothes. The smell of sickness permeated the space.
“Polly,” Mrs. Gill called softly as she approached the bed. “You have a pair of guests. I think they may make you smile. Let me help you sit up.” She propped the pillows against the headboard and lifted the figure higher in the bed.
Now visible, Pauline Blaylock looked much older than her probable age, which was likely not yet fifty. Her gray hair was gathered back from her face, but strands clung to her sunken cheeks. Her dark eyes seemed faded, as if she’d stared at the sun too long. She appeared a woman without much time, her pallor grayish and her body withered. If Rafe had come upon her, there would have been no recognition from him.
“Who are they?” Pauline asked her sister, her expression confused.
“This is Lord Stone and Lady Selina Sheffield. They said you were their nurse.”
Rafe went rigid. Selina clasped his fingers briefly.
Pauline’s eyes widened, and she let out a terrible sound that was part sob and part shriek. “It can’t be you.”
Swallowing a cruel retort, Rafe moved closer to the bed. Mrs. Gill stepped out of the way. “It is.” He bent low so she could see his eye. “You recognize me, don’t you?”
“Lord Sandon,” she breathed. Then her gaze drifted past him, fixing on Selina. “My precious girl.”
“She is not and was neveryourgirl,” Rafe said coldly. He had absolutely no sympathy for this woman on her deathbed. She’d stolen them from their life.
Pauline looked back to Rafe, her body seeming to shrink beneath his stare. “No. I am glad to see you both looking so well. You are Lord Stone now?”
The serving maid came to the room, interrupting them. Mrs. Gill excused herself, closing the door after she left.
Selina moved to the bed. “Yes, he is Lord Stone. I am Lady Selina Sheffield. My husband is the son of the Earl of Aylesbury.”
“As it should be,” Pauline said softly as tears pooled in her eyes. “As it should be. I am glad I am alive to see it. To see you both well.”
Rafe chafed at her apparent joy. “We have only recently learned who we truly are. We have spent our lives wondering about our origins as we fought to survive. We have many questions, and you owe it to us to answer them to the best of your ability.”
Pauline’s dry lips parted. She licked them as she looked toward Selina, perhaps hoping she would be less demanding than Rafe.
