Loving Bella (9 page)

“The woman is an event unto herself,” he added with a sardonic grin spreading across his lips.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Bella muttered.

He chuckled. “Miss Silks will grow on you. In time.”

“Grow on me?” Bella shuddered at the thought. “Might I remind you, doctor, that mold, pestilence and all kinds of hideous diseases
grow
on people.”

His lips twitched, but he maintained his composure like the true gentleman he was. “At least the drama has passed for now.”

Bella failed to agree with that inaccurate statement.

In her estimation, the drama had only just begun.

S
unday morning brought cold, icy rain and the perfect reason to sleep in. Unfortunately, Bella could not indulge in such luxury. Beau would expect her to attend church with the rest of the family. He’d probably insist she sit in the front pew with Hannah and Mavis. Which, of course, would bring speculation from the rest of the congregation.

Bella would have to explain her unexpected visit and new position as Dr. Shane’s assistant. All with a pleasant smile on her face.

“Oh, Lord, please. Not yet.” Her heart gave two hard knocks. “I’m not ready.”

Flopping on her back, Bella clasped the locket around her neck with a tight fist and stared at the tiled ceiling. The rain continued its steady scratching against the window in an unbroken knot of gloom and doom.

All the while, one question kept gnawing at her. Why couldn’t she fully repent of her mistake with William and allow God to heal her broken heart?

Sudden tears blurred her vision, making it impossible to decipher the patterns swirling above her.

Bella desperately wanted to become the good Christian woman she’d been before William had entered her life. But she didn’t know how.

Bella yanked the covers over her head and sorted through the bigger dilemma confronting her this morning.

How could she walk into the Lord’s House and face her Heavenly Father knowing sin still lived in her heart?

Familiar guilt came hard and fast. She rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. She’d nearly destroyed a marriage. Not that she’d known at the time. But she should have. All the signs had been there. William’s elusive schedule, for one. Always available at night, never present during the day.

Because she’d wanted to believe in William’s love for her, Bella had stubbornly refused to see the truth. And didn’t that make her as guilty as her viscount? Yes, and thus she wore his necklace as a reminder.

Bella burrowed deeper under the covers and tried to think up a reason to skip church.

Perhaps she could pretend illness.

Sitting up, she tested out a cough, tried for a sniffle.

No good.

Beau would know she was faking and call her bluff, perhaps even summon Dr. Shane. No. Out of the question. Pretending illness was not an option. Shane Bartlett could not think ill of her. Bella would not allow it.

She punched air into the feather pillow. “What to do. What to do.”

Perhaps she could claim she had another engagement.

But where?

And with whom?

It would have to be someone who wouldn’t be attending church this morning. Someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions. A woman with her own hidden secrets. Yes, of course. That was it.

With Lizzie’s pale, thin face in mind, Bella tossed the covers off her legs and quickly dressed for the day. While she was lacing up her boots, a firm knock came at her door.

Beau.

On full alert, Bella set her chin at a stubborn angle and rose. “Come in.”

Smiling, Beau stuck his head into the room. He smiled. Broadly. “Ah, good. You’re up.”

She spun in a circle. “And dressed, too.”

His smile widened. One look at that boyish grin and Bella knew Hannah had told him the news of his impending fatherhood at last. For a moment, Bella simply stared at her brother with wistfulness. At the sight of all that joy, she felt strangely unmoored, disoriented.

Left out.

Now…really…when had she grown so selfish?

Disgusted with the direction of her own thoughts, Bella forced an answering smile across her lips. “You’re certainly happy this morning.” She knew her voice sounded too sharp, too bitter, so she struggled to lighten her tone. “May I ask the cause?”

He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, his gaze
filling with satisfaction. “God has blessed me more than I can fathom.”

She waited for the rest.

“I’m going to be a father.”

With those simple, heartfelt words, Bella’s own concerns faded and she rushed to hug him. “Oh, Beau. I’m so pleased.” And she was. Her brother deserved a happy family of his own. With a wife who adored him.

But now that Bella was sheltered in his arms, a deep sadness warred against her pleasure. With the conflicting emotions battling inside her, she clung a little longer than usual.

“You’ll make a great father,” she whispered, tears slipping along her lashes.

“Ah, Bella.” He pulled back and wiped an errant tear away with his thumb. “I hate to see you so sad.”

Good, solid Beau. He always worried about others first, never himself. Why did he have to be so good?

“I’m happy for you and Hannah,” she said. “Truly. I am.” But the loneliness was too loud in her voice, too thick and obvious for her words to ring true.

“Bella. Bella.” Beau exhaled slowly. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what happened in London.”

“I just needed a break,” she said. “Nothing more.”

“There’s more.” He dropped his gaze over her, shook his head. “But I know you well enough to know you won’t reveal the full story until you’re ready.”

Relieved he wasn’t going to force her to confide her secret, Bella hugged him once again. And tried not to sob into his shirt.

He patted her head like he had when she was little, and then set her at arm’s length. “Church begins in less than an hour. Come eat and we’ll be off.”

Here it was. The moment of truth. “I…I won’t be there.” Her gaze chased around the room, landing everywhere but on Beau. “I have to see a patient this morning.”

His gaze turned direct, making him look like a man who knew when people were lying to him. “Where are you seeing this patient?”

Dropping her gaze to the toe of her boot, Bella bit down on her lip. “Mattie’s.”

“You’re going to a brothel?”

Bella jerked her chin at him. “Yes.”

“Now?”

“No one visits prostitutes on Sunday mornings. It’s time someone did, for all the right reasons.”

She knew she sounded bitter. Well, she
felt
bitter. Memories of William’s indecent proposal poked at her. Women like Lizzie—like Bella—like all of Mattie’s girls—were good enough for an evening’s entertainment, but never good enough for respectable marriage proposals.

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.”

Beau sighed. Heavily. “Then explain it to me, Bella. Help me to understand why you would choose to spend Sunday morning at a brothel rather than in worship.”

Bella lifted a careless shoulder. “Don’t make this more complicated than it is. Lizzie needs me.” She reached to her bedside table. “And look, I’m bringing my Bible.”

Beau’s eyes went dark and turbulent, reminding
Bella that her brother might be a compassionate preacher but he wasn’t stupid. “A very realistic prop, little sister.”

“How dare you.”

“Am I wrong?”

It was her turn to sigh. Heavily. “Not completely. But Lizzie does need me.”

“Fine, Bella. Have it your way.” Annoyance spiked his voice to a lower octave than usual. “I won’t force you to come to church.”

“Thank you.”

“And I suppose some good will come of this.” Beau crossed his arms over his chest and held her gaze. “There’s no better cure for despondency than caring for the sick.”

Disappointment had Bella biting down on her lip. It was obvious Beau didn’t understand her motives for avoiding church. How could he? He’d never veered from the godly path the Lord had set before him. Not once.

How could a man who always made the right decision ever understand Bella’s shame? Her regret?

It would seem her ugly little secret must remain hidden inside her forever. Unfortunately, no peace came with the realization, no triumph. Just bone-weary loneliness. And a strong sense she was making another mistake. This one larger than the first, and far more life altering.

Heavy-hearted, and from a safe distance, Bella watched Lizzie struggle for every breath. With each labored intake, Bella found herself sucking air into her own lungs with the same sporadic rhythm. Before meet
ing this woman, she would never have believed anyone could live through such agony.

How could Shane Bartlett confront such misery, day in and day out, with no end in sight? Because he was strong and good and anointed by God to heal the sick.

Realizing how much she was growing to admire the man, Bella pressed a hand to her throat. Dr. Shane was drawing feelings out of her no one—not even William—had before.

Fear began unfurling in her heart. Oh, no. No, no. Bella would not fall for another man. Not now. Not like this. Not so soon. She had to be careful this time. She had to be smart, and in control.

The first step was to focus on the reason she’d come to Mattie’s in the first place.

Poor, poor Lizzie.

The illness was clearly taking its toll. The woman looked exhausted, her faded green eyes hopeless, as though she’d long ago given up on ever leading a happy, normal life.

Had Lizzie left her dreams behind, or had her dreams failed her somewhere along the way?

Would Bella become this woman one day if she didn’t take care?

After covering her face with a cloth like Dr. Shane had taught her, Bella wrung out a rag from the washbasin and scooted toward the edge of the bed. She placed the wet rag onto Lizzie’s forehead.

“There,” she said. “That should help relieve some of the heat.”

Lizzie relaxed into her pillow and sighed. “Thank you, Miss O’Toole.”

“Call me Bella.”

A hint of a smile crossed the sick woman’s lips. “Thank you, Bella.”

Smiling, Bella picked up the woman’s hand and gripped it between her own. Words of encouragement seemed trite, yet she didn’t know Lizzie well enough to discuss anything of real importance.

Perhaps she should start small. “Does Lizzie stand for Elizabeth?” she asked.

“It does. I…” Lizzie struggled through a breath, and then another before continuing in a stilted tone. “I chose it after my favorite literary character, Elizabeth Bennett.”

Pleasure swamped Bella at the declaration. The Jane Austen story was one of her favorites. Feeling a genuine connection now, she gave Lizzie’s hand an affectionate squeeze and quoted the famous first line from
Pride and Prejudice
. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

Lizzie didn’t actually grin in response, but her eyes crinkled at the edges.

“If I were to find a copy of the book, would you like me to read it to you?” Bella asked.

“I…” Lizzie’s chin trembled. “Oh, yes. Please.”

Heart hammering, Bella felt a rush of excitement. At last, she had found a way to offer comfort to this sad woman. “I will search out a copy this very afternoon.”

Lizzie looked especially pleased, but then her gaze flicked to the doorway and her eyes widened.

Bella looked over her shoulder, caught sight of Mattie Silks standing in the doorway. “Good day, Miss Silks,” she said without moving away from Lizzie.

The madam’s eyebrows lifted at a proud angle. “Good day, Miss O’Toole.”

Sighing, Bella rubbed a finger over her temple and wished she had a quick, pithy remark that would send the disturbing woman on her way.

Seconds ticked by before Mattie sailed into the room and lowered her gaze to Lizzie’s face. The sorrow in the madam’s eyes made her appear less harsh, accessible even. There could be no doubt she cared for this woman.

“I have a copy of
Pride and Prejudice
in my parlor,” she said as she continued to stare at Lizzie’s limp form.

Despite the hostility they’d shared at their first meeting, Bella wasn’t prepared to alienate the madam completely. Not for Lizzie’s sake, at any rate. “Would it be a bother if I asked to borrow the book, Miss Silks?”

Shifting away from the bed, Mattie regarded her with a long, serious expression. She remained silent so long, Bella feared the woman would refuse her request but then she said, “Come with me.”

Bella shared a quick look with Lizzie when Mattie turned on her heels and left the room without a second glance.

“I’ll be right back,” Bella called over her shoulder.

Trotting to catch up, she uncovered her face and fell into step with the madam. A cold draft swept through
the hallway, bringing the oddly pleasant scent of jasmine and musk. She hadn’t expected that. Bella shivered in spite of herself and crossed her arms around her middle.

Mattie chose that moment to break the silence. “I would have expected a preacher’s sister to be in church on a Sunday morning.”

Bella ignored the feminine triumph in the madam’s eyes and pretended grave interest in the crown molding running along the ceiling of the hallway. “I wanted to visit some of my new patients at a more leisurely pace. Sunday morning can be a lonely time if one cannot leave the bed.”

“And yet the doctor feels the need to go to church.”

Bella made a noncommittal sound. Why start an argument when they were getting on so well?

To her credit, the madam continued the rest of their trek without speaking again. In blessed silence, she led Bella down a back stairwell, past the kitchen and inside a small parlor.

As expected, the decor was as gaudy as the rest of the brothel. Yet there was a sense of homeyness here that transcended the tacky red and gold furnishings, as though this room was meant for the madam’s private use only.

Best of all, shelves lined an entire wall and were filled with books from top to bottom.

Who would have thought Mattie Silks was a reader?

She eyed Bella with a speculative glance. “Are you an actress or a singer or both?”

Bella took immediate offense at the blunt question. “You aren’t much for small talk, are you, Miss Silks?”

With unexpected grace, Mattie lowered herself into a wingback chair and crossed her legs at the knees. “You carry yourself with great confidence, Miss O’Toole, especially for one so young. You must have trained all your life.”

Surprised by the compliment, Bella found herself unable to do more than stare at the woman as she tried to understand the odd change in Mattie’s behavior. She was different here, in this room, almost pleasant.