Page 103 of Blame It on the Earl (The Duke's Estates 3)

“He is in a bad way. These lung fevers weaken the entire constitution.”

“He is very weak.”

The doctor nodded.

“There must be something more that can be done. How can I help?”

“Mrs. Dillon is very capable.” The doctor looked paternal. “You mustn’t worry.”

Sarah didn’t see how he could think that was reassuring. If the nurse was capable, then the earl was doomed, because that was her settled opinion. “Like Atropos cutting the thread,” Sarah murmured.

“I beg your pardon?” The doctor looked bewildered.

“There must be something I cando.”

“You’ve been very kind. I’m sure Lord Trestan appreciates all the time you’ve spent reading to him.” His tone made it sound like the whim of a child. His smile as he departed was condescending.

Fuming, Sarah started back to the earl’s chamber. Then she stopped, considered, gathered all her courage, and strode to Lady Trestan’s private parlor instead. She walked in without knocking, because if she waited, she might lose her nerve. “I think you should consult another doctor about the earl’s condition,” she said as soon as she was inside.

The countess looked up from her perennial mass of papers, with her customary annoyed expression. “Why do you say that?” she asked.

“Someone with a fresh eye might notice something or have other treatments.”

“Dr. Greel is known to be the best in the area. I’m sure he is doing all that can be done.”

“Nobody knows everything.”

“He certainly knows better thanyou,” Lady Trestan said contemptuously.

Sarah’s hands closed into fists at her sides. “You don’t like me,” she replied. “I am well aware of that. But this has nothing to do with our…incompatibility. What harm would there be in consulting another doctor?”

“There is no other competent physician available.” The countess looked down at her work, a gesture of dismissal.

“So you won’t even try?”

“I see no necessity. And I do not appreciate this…melodrama you are enacting.”

“Don’t you care?” Sarah blurted out. “Don’t you love him?”

This brought Lady Trestan’s head up. Her lips thinned. Her eyebrows drew together. “You are impertinent!”

“I am everything you despise. You have made that perfectly clear. So why not impertinent? I don’t care. Not if I can help at all.”

The countess looked surprised and perhaps slightly impressed. She set down her quill. “What do you imagine love is?”

“Greater minds than I have tried to define it,” Sarah answered. She didn’t try to moderate the snap in her voice. She’d lost all patience.

“Indeed. And yet you push forward your opinions.” Lady Trestan straightened the pile of papers before her. “I have given my life to salvaging the legacy of a great family. I’ve provided the skills that are sadly…lacking in its heirs.”

Sarah frowned at this seeming non sequitur. She thought it over. “That is a kind of love, you mean?”

“It is far more valuable than the bleating and whining roused by that word.”

“But a legacy… It sounds so abstract. The people…”

“The land is far more important than any individual. Without land, the aristocracy is mere ghosts of fading glory.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

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