Surrender of Trust (First Volume of the Surrender Series) (2 page)

Dr. Willets placed his hands on Lucien's
chest and began to unbutton Lucien's bloodied shirt. He stopped and
said, "I need to examine him. All of him." Dr. Willets stared at
Lucy. "If any of this is going to offend your sensibilities, Ms.
Goodwin, then I suggest you leave now. If not, I could use your
help, and this man's help." He nodded at Alistair.

Wordlessly, Lucy and Alistair stepped forward
to assist Dr. Willets in his examination of Lucien. Dr. Willets
checked Lucien's pulse. He then waved a candle before Lucien's
eyes. The pupils reacted to the light, and relief washed over Lucy.
Dr. Willets pricked the skin of Lucien's arm with a sharp pin and
the arm jerked. Lucy expelled her pent-up breath and the block of
ice in the pit of her stomach began to thaw.

His examination concluded, Dr. Willets
administered a draft of laudanum to Lucien and turned to Lucy,
motioning for her to sit. "I think you understand Lucien is lucky
to be alive. You should also understand there is no guarantee he
will live. He may be bleeding inside. If he is, I may not be able
to help him. Time will provide the answer, not me."

The brave front crumpled and Lucy stifled the
impulse to wail. Instead, she drew from an inner well of strength
and stood up, drawing in her breath and straightening herself,
refusing to fall apart. "What do I need to do?"

"You must keep him sedated as much as
possible. I will give you some laudanum. When he wakes, give him
the laudanum in wine. If he seems hungry, feed him as much as you
can. Eating will help keep his strength up. After Lucien eats,
assuming you can entice him to do, dose him with the laudanum and
wine again. He'll need to be sponged regularly and have his bed
clothes changed as frequently as possible. Keep him clean and give
him a chamber pot in bed. I want him sleeping and immobile as much
as possible. His left leg might be broken, or maybe it's just
fractured. I can't tell yet, but I've wrapped it. It's all I can do
for now. The rest is up to him, and God."

Dr. Willets regarded Lucy steadily for a
moment before continuing, "You need to keep his spirits as high as
you can. Don't let him become upset or worried about anything. I
think mental health is as important to his recovery as his physical
health. I'll stop back by in a few days to check on him. If he
takes a turn for the worse, send one of your servants to collect
me."

Gathering his bag, Dr. Willets departed from
the room without another word. Lucy followed him and sagged against
the bedroom door. She bit her lip to stop the trembling. Emotions
finally overwhelmed her and shattered her composure. Her shoulders
shook beyond her control and she brushed at her cheeks to wipe away
the tears which flowed. She couldn't lose Lucien. She couldn't even
bear to think of the possibility.
So why was she allowing
herself to think in this vein?

Of course, Lucien would get better. She would
see to it. She would do whatever was necessary to ensure he
remained healthy. At the moment that meant caring for his business
too. Lucien's recovery couldn't be jeopardized by worrying about
his business. Not to mention, his business provided them both with
a place to live and an income.

Operating the business would present a
genuine problem since Lucy had no legal or social standing to do
so. She would have to lie to the outside world to ensure his health
and their security. She would do whatever was necessary, lie,
cheat, even steal to save her brother, their good name, and their
livelihood.
Whatever it takes
, Lucy vowed. Resolved, Lucy
lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. She would not fail.

Lucy considered what she needed to do first.
It wouldn't do to panic the servants. Lucy wiped her eyes and
smoothed her gown before she took the stairs in a measured pace,
one step at a time to the first floor.

Lucy found Alistair speaking with Cook about
a household matter. Taking him aside, Lucy said, "I'm sure you know
I need you to tend to Lucien. That is to be your primary duty
now."

Lucy peered at Alistair. The gentle, loyal
man had been her father's valet first, and now Lucien's. She could
depend on him to care for Lucien as if he were his own son. "We're
going to have our hands full."

Alistair stared very directly into her eyes,
"Yes, I daresay we will."

"I ran out without instructing the stable
boys. I need to return to the stables to ensure the horses have
been cared for. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Lucy left the house and picked her way along
the same path she had run along earlier. She pondered their
predicament. Their fates rested on her shoulders and abilities.
There could be no failure.

The crisp morning air refreshed Chalifour.
His Stable Master, John Carroll, kept pace with him as their horses
trotted through the wet grass covered by dew.

"Yes, My Lord, I have segregated the mares
from the stallions as you requested." Carroll chuckled, "It seems
neither the mares nor the stallions are very happy with this new
arrangement."

Chalifour smiled inwardly. He could well
imagine his horses weren't very happy with their new circumstances,
but he was. Unfortunately for the horses, segregation was a
necessity. He mentally apologized to his stallions for ruining
their Spring rut.

The long-awaited meeting with Lucien Goodwin
to complete their business arrangements was at hand. After nearly
nine months of negotiations and correspondence with Lucien,
Chalifour’s dream, or at least a part of it, was on the cusp of
coming to fruition. He had contacted Lucien not long after leaving
Town at the end of Season last year after his chance meeting with
Lucien’s sister at Glenhurst Hall. He smiled at the thought of
Lucy.

His plan was close to materializing.
Excitement rose within Chalifour reminiscent of the time he stole
his first kiss at twelve years old. The wave of giddiness which
rippled through him was an unfamiliar feeling. In fact, he doubted
anyone had ever used the word
giddy
to describe him. The
prospect of seeing Lucy again was enticing too. With a grin,
Chalifour turned to his Stable Master.

"Good man, John. I have no doubt you've done
an admirable job segregating the horses. You always do excellent
work."

John beamed. "Thank you, My Lord. Do you know
when we'll be moving the mares?"

"Not exactly, though I'll be meeting with
Lucien Goodwin the day after tomorrow to finalize matters. How long
do you think it will take you to actually transport the mares to
the Goodwin stables once we’re ready?"

"So as not to stress the girls, let's say
three, maybe four days."

"Excellent. I'd like feedback from Lucien on
the mares before we move them. I expect that will entail him making
a trip here beforehand to help select them. I'm sure you wouldn't
mind a chance to meet him." Chalifour glanced at his Stable Master,
awaiting his reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.

John's face lit up and a wide smile split his
face. "I see! Well then, that's wonderful! I'll be looking forward
to meeting Mr. Goodwin and getting his measure on the mares. Maybe
he could give me a few pointers on riding as well. He's the best
jockey I've ever seen! And I've seen some good ones. Anytime he's
racing, I always place my wager on him."

"You and half of England!" Chalifour laughed
and John joined in.

"I daresay he's one of the most honest too,"
John said.

"Yes, I would agree his reputation is solid.
Aside from the fact I believe his blood horses are some of the
finest in England, his reputation is another reason I sought to
align my business interests with him as opposed to some of the
other owners."

"I know ethics are important to you, My Lord.
It does my heart good to see you've worked so diligently to elevate
the sport. Your efforts at eliminating corruption and cheating have
made a difference. Maybe one day the King's Sport will really
deserve that moniker."

Chalifour smiled. "I hope so."

Leaving John at the stable, Chalifour
returned to the mansion to sift through his correspondence. His
recent neglect had transformed the small pile of paper into a large
stack. Chalifour should have been resigned to tackling the
desultory task, instead, a whistle escaped his lips. After all
these years, his dream of breeding the finest thoroughbreds in
England, or anywhere else for that matter, was close to becoming a
reality.

The image of his mother's face entered
Chalifour’s mind. She would have been thrilled. They had shared
this dream, but she would not see its fulfillment. Melancholy
abruptly swept through him, choking off his whistle.
I'll make
this happen, Mother. Thoroughbred racing will continue to become
more respected without any taint of corruption and our horses will
set the standard.

Dawn's light peeked through the drapes the
following morning and Lucy hurriedly dressed in her customary
black, holding fast to a tenuous hope Lucien had improved during
the night. Lucy entered Lucien's bedchamber clinging to her fragile
hope and encountered Alistair sponging her brother's forehead.
Lucien showed no discernible reaction to the man’s gentle
ministrations and her hopes faded.

A soft tap sounded on Lucien's door. "Miss
Goodwin?"

"Yes? Come in."

Cedric entered the room and presented a
silver and calling card to her. "Ms. Goodwin, the Viscount of
Perdan is here to see Mr. Goodwin. What should I tell him?"

She and Alistair glanced at each other. Lucy
said, "Show him to the salon and let him know he will be received.
Don't say anything else."

"Yes, Miss Goodwin."

Lucy eyed Cedric. "Did Lord Perdan happen to
state the reason for his call?"

"No, only that he was here to call on Mr.
Goodwin."

"Thank you. I'll be down shortly. Remember,
tell him only that he will be received, nothing else. I don't want
him to know just yet that it is I who will be receiving him instead
of Mr. Goodwin. And send Millie to me immediately. I need help
dressing."

Lucy scurried to her room. Her jumbled
thoughts clanged around in her head. She wished her dearest friend,
Lady Monique Cathdon, sister to Lord William Cathdon, Duke of
Glenhurst, was here to help her think things through. It had been
nearly ten months since she last saw her friend in Town. Lucy was
certain of only one thing. She couldn't let anyone know how serious
her brother's injuries truly were. That could prove disastrous if
she intended to run the business while Lucien convalesced.

Lucy stared into the mirror and grimaced. She
reached up to touch the pale skin. Her usual rosy bloom was
missing. A dreadful shade of red tinged her green eyes. Perhaps she
should wear something other than black to lessen her paleness. It
certainly couldn't hurt! In fact, Lucy doubted anything could make
her appear any less attractive than the image staring back at
her.

Lucy was nearing the end of her mourning
period. Surely no one would think it inappropriate to dispense with
the black attire she wore in honor of her father? The image of her
father's face floated appeared briefly before her and her hand flew
to her chest to massage the area around her heart. No, a change in
her wardrobe may improve her appearance, but it would not ease the
pain.

Rifling through the contents of her armoire,
Lucy settled on a simple white muslin gown crammed into the back.
She pulled the dress out and held its pale fabric up to the light.
While she fretted over the suitability of the dress, Millie entered
her room without knocking.

"Cedric said there was a caller and you
needed me." Looking her up and down, Millie said "Cedric was right.
You do need me. You're a fright."

"Well, then, don't stand there, Millie. Help
me get dressed! I don't want to keep Lord Perdan waiting!"

Lucy donned her chemise and petticoat. Millie
helped her into the gown, fastening the buttons and adjusting the
lacy chemisette over Lucy’s bosom. Millie then attacked Lucy’s
unruly curls with the hairbrush and hairpins to make her hair at
least somewhat presentable.

Finished, Millie stood back, looked at her
appraisingly, and said, "I can't do anything about the redness of
your eyes, but I can fix the paleness." She leaned forward, reached
out with both hands and pinched Lucy's cheeks.

"Ouch!" Lucy yelped, rubbing one cheek with
her hand.

"Well, it might have hurt a little. But at
least you don't look like a cadaver now."

Lucy glared at her. "You might have warned
me."

Millie shrugged. "Best get downstairs
now."

One last glance in the mirror assured Lucy it
was the best she could hope for on short notice. Millie could work
wonders, but she couldn't work miracles. "Thank you, Millie." She
turned and walked from the room and descended the staircase.

Lucy stood outside the salon door, inhaled
and counted to ten before exhaling. She smoothed her skirt, squared
her shoulders, and swept into the salon, closing the door behind
her.

"Lord Perdan, what an unexpected pleasure. My
brother is currently indisposed and unable to greet you himself, so
I felt it only proper I greet you in his stead."

Cedric tapped on the salon door and
interrupted their conversation. He opened the door and walked into
the room carrying a tea trey. After setting the trey on a table in
the corner, Cedric turned and asked, "May I pour for you?"

Lucy didn't lock her tea in a tea caddy as
most households did so Cedric had prepared tea for their guest. The
Goodwins always treated their servants well and trusted them
implicitly. Their father had often reminded them of their own
humble beginnings in the servant class.