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Authors: Vanessa Kelly

My Favorite Countess (20 page)

BOOK: My Favorite Countess
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Silverton sighed. “As you wish, my love. I'll wait in the library.” He moved to the door and stopped, hand on the doorknob. “And I'll expect to hear from you, Doctor, very shortly.”
Lady Silverton muttered, but John readily agreed. No point in irritating the man any further than he already was. “I'll send the maid to you as soon as I'm finished my examination, my lord.”
“Please don't be offended, Dr. Blackmore,” said Lady Silverton once the door had closed. “My husband is terribly worried. I try not to complain, but he knows how uncomfortable I am.”
“Let's try to alleviate those worries, shall we? For both of you.” He smiled at the maid. “You take care of her ladyship, do you, Grace?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, bobbing respectfully.
“Please sit behind your mistress on the sofa, so that she may lean back on you. That's right,” he encouraged as he guided the two women into position.
John knelt beside the sofa. Now that her husband had left the room, the marchioness began to look anxious. As he took her pulse, he cast about for a way to draw her focus away from his actions.
“How long have you known Lady Randolph?” he asked, moving up from her wrist to check the pulse at her throat.
“I've seen her in company, of course, but I never really talked to her until the other day in Green Park.”
“Ah. That surprises me. Will you open your mouth, my lady?”
She obediently stuck out her tongue, said
ah
, then sat quietly while he raised her eyelids for a look.
“Why does that surprise you?” she asked when he had finished.
“Lady Randolph was insistent that I see you,” he said. “Given her level of concern, I assumed you were old friends.”
She smiled. “She is a very determined woman. I tried to send her on her way once she assisted me to my carriage, but she climbed right in and wouldn't leave until she saw me safely home.”
John could well imagine Bathsheba's high-handed techniques. “She does tend to get what she wants, it seems. My lady, I need to touch your stomach now. Do I have your permission?”
“Of course, Doctor,” she replied, sounding nervous but trying to put a brave face on it.
He slid his hands across her abdomen, gently probing as he searched out the baby's position. She flushed, looking embarrassed, but withstood it well.
“How long have you known Lady Randolph?” she asked brightly. John had the sense she needed to distract herself from the liberties he was taking with her body. He was happy to oblige.
“I met her in Yorkshire some weeks ago while visiting one of my old professors. Lady Randolph was in residence at Compton Manor, the family estate.”
Lady Silverton frowned. “Yes, I'd heard she spent some weeks in the country. Everyone seemed to think that quite odd, since she professes to hate leaving the city.”
He nodded, sliding his hands around her belly, mystified by her enormous size.
“She fell ill with a fever. That delayed her return to London,” he said absently.
He took his hands away and sat back on his heels, running through the possibilities in his head. When he raised his gaze to meet hers, she was studying him with lively curiosity. Something he had said about Bathsheba must have piqued her interest.
“Did you care for her while she was ill?” she asked in a suspiciously innocent tone.
“Yes,” he said, suddenly wishing he had kept his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted to do was set off any gossip that might send Bathsheba running back to the hills.
Lady Silverton gave him a self-satisfied grin, looking as if she had discovered an amusing secret. “I like her. She's . . . different. More direct and honest than most women of the ton.”
He gave a short laugh. “That's one way of describing her. Now, my lady, I'm going to rest a small wooden cylinder on your stomach. It won't hurt, but it will help me detect your baby's heartbeat.”
“And if you can't?” she asked. Her smile vanished. Instantly, she looked so vulnerable, so much like Becky that his heart squeezed with the memory of it.
“You're not to worry. It's more common to not hear the heartbeat, especially depending on the position of the baby. I trust you feel movement, though—the babe kicking inside you?”
She scrunched her nose. “Sometimes it feels like a prizefight going on in there. There's so much thumping and banging it wakes me up at night.” Her round face softened with a sweet glow. “And sometimes my belly moves, as if his little arms and legs are pushing out.”
“Hoping for a boy, are you?”
“A boy would be lovely, but so would a girl. I do, however, have a strong feeling that my baby is a boy.” She made a wry face. “He must be a boy to kick up such a fuss. No girl would dare be so misbehaved.”
He repressed a grin. First-time mothers—especially aristocratic mothers—always thought they were having a boy.
“Grace,” he said, glancing at the long-suffering maid, still propping up her mistress. “You can get up now. Lady Silverton, would you please lie flat on the sofa?”
The maid slid out from under her mistress, gently helping her to recline on the plump cushions of the velvet sofa. The marchioness still looked apprehensive, but there was little John could do about that except give her a reassuring smile and hope his suspicions were correct.
He extracted the cylinder from his medical bag and propped it on the tight drum of her belly. “Just breathe normally, my lady. This won't take long.”
She nodded and blew out a quick breath, then settled. As he positioned his ear to the tube, a soft, almost sacred silence enveloped them. John let his surroundings, all outside distractions fade away, focusing his senses, his knowledge—even his intuition—on the quickening of life in her body. Time slowed to a snail's crawl. Her stomach growled, went quiet, and then . . . then he heard it. A heartbeat. Fast, steady, and strong.
He smiled and shifted over her, moving to the other side of her belly. Again, he listened, longer this time, straining to hear what he suspected was there. Lady Silverton shivered, and he murmured a soft word of comfort. He held his position, waiting for it.
Yes.
There it was. Another heartbeat. Not as loud as the first, but beating out a regular, rapid pulse.
“Is everything well?” Lady Silverton's voice held a thin edge of fear.
John straightened up. “Everything is fine, my lady. Just a little more unpleasantness and we'll be finished. Here, let me help you sit up.”
Grace rushed to assist. When Lady Silverton was sitting up again, John quietly told her what he needed to do next. He explained every one of his actions as he gently reached under her robe and made a quick examination. She had turned a fiery red by the time he was finished, but she bore it with dignity, unlike Grace, who gaped at him, looking twice as shocked as her mistress.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said, rising to his feet. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”
She laughed unsteadily. “I don't know if inconvenience is really the right word, but I must admit that now I'm
very
glad Dr. Steele never examined me in such a fashion.”
John grinned. He knew exactly what she meant. Steele was a pompous, overbearing ass, with a brusque manner. Any woman of sense would run in the opposite direction before allowing him to lay a hand on her body, and Lady Silverton clearly had a great deal of sense.
“My lady, allow me to wash up first, and then I'll be happy to explain the results of my examination to you and your husband.”
“Of course. Grace, show the doctor to the bath, and fetch his lordship from the library.”
After cleaning up in a very modern and luxurious bath, John returned to Lady Silverton's sitting room. He tapped on the door, and Lord Silverton's voice bade him enter.
The marquess sat beside his wife on the sofa, his arm wrapped protectively about her shoulders, talking softly in her ear. When John entered, they both looked up. Lady Silverton smiled, but her husband looked ready to kill. Obviously the marchioness had provided details of her examination.
Lord Silverton came to his feet, looking every inch the powerful aristocrat. John was tempted to laugh. It was little wonder Steele didn't lay a hand on Lady Silverton—her husband had probably terrified him.
“Well, Doctor. What are the results of your examination?” Lord Silverton's voice held a note of challenge, but John could also hear the anxiety in it.
“I'm happy to report that your wife is doing very well, under the circumstances.”
His lordship's eyebrows snapped into a straight line. “What circumstances?”
“Oh, Stephen, for heaven's sake! Let the man speak,” exclaimed Lady Silverton.
“It's quite all right, my lady,” John replied. “By circumstances, I mean that you are pregnant with twins. All your symptoms—your fatigue and nausea, for instance—can be explained by that fact.”
Lady Silverton's beautiful gray eyes popped wide. She fell back against the cushions. Her husband simply looked stunned.
“Twins?” she echoed in a faintly horrified voice. “How can you tell?”
“Aside from your size and your symptoms—which are common with twins—I heard two heartbeats.”
The marquess stared at his wife with a wondering gaze. He sat down very carefully next to her. “Are you quite certain?” he asked, glancing at John.
“Yes, my lord. I heard both heartbeats distinctly. Lady Silverton, I assure you there is nothing wrong with you. Your last several weeks of pregnancy will not be comfortable, but there is no reason to believe you won't be safely delivered of your babies.”
She gave a dazed laugh and leaned against her husband's shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor. I can't tell you how relieved I am.”
Lord Silverton dropped a kiss on her head and hugged her close, but after a moment his brows drew together in a thoughtful frown. “Dr. Blackmore, why did this rather pertinent fact escape the notice of Dr. Steele? The man's been attending my wife for months.”
It shouldn't have.
John bit back the quick retort. If Steele had done a thorough examination on Lady Silverton in the last few weeks, he likely would have got it right. But it was difficult to determine the presence of twins, as he had learned years ago with Becky. His sister had been pregnant with twins, and the local doctor had never guessed—not until it was too late.
“It is difficult to detect twins,” he replied. “Most women and their doctors never know until the babies are actually born.”
“You knew,” replied Silverton. His voice was carefully neutral, but John had the distinct impression from his cold blue gaze that the man was angry. He was also willing to bet Steele was the source of that anger.
“Yes.”
Lady Silverton nudged her husband in the ribs. “I told you Dr. Blackmore was a good doctor. Bathsheba said so.”
“So you did, my love,” said the marquess, wiping all traces of anger from his face. “As always, I should heed your opinion in all things. Dr. Blackmore, my wife and I would be exceedingly grateful if you would take her on as your patient. If you accept, I will inform Dr. Steele that his services are no longer required.”
John felt an intense surge of relief that he didn't have to convince Lord Silverton to allow him to treat his wife. Steele was both arrogant and sometimes incompetent, and the thought of leaving a vulnerable woman—especially one who reminded him so forcibly of Becky—in his blundering hands made the skin crawl on the back of his neck.
“I should be honored to attend to her ladyship's needs. If you so desire, I am also ready to discuss the matter with Dr. Steele.”
Lord Silverton gave him a grim smile. “That won't be necessary. I'll take care of it.”
The marchioness sat up straight, her smooth brow wrinkling with concern. “Dr. Blackmore, I do hope this won't cause any problems for you. With Dr. Steele, I mean.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “I assure you, my lady, I am well able to deal with Dr. Steele. My only concern is your well-being.”
“If you ever have any difficulties with Steele, you will let me know.” Lord Silverton's tone of voice made it clear he was not making a request.
John nodded. “As you wish. Now, my lady,” he said, smiling at his new patient. “You must take very good care of yourself from now on. No more walks in Green Park. If the weather is not too hot, you may take a stroll around Grosvenor Square, on your husband's arm. And I would suggest you curtail any socializing you might still be inclined to do. You may have a few friends visit you at Silverton House, but that is all.”
She gave him a jaundiced look. “You're going to be a tyrant, aren't you?”
BOOK: My Favorite Countess
11.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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