Not Quite Darcy by Terri Meeker Read Free Book Online Page B

ideally in the company of an expert anthropologist. He opened his mouth to inquire about her interest in them, but when he saw her blinking nervously at him, he closed it again. Though her determination to have an American maid had been odd, he had no good reason to cause her discomfort by questioning her further.
    â€œI’m so relieved that you’ll be free to return to your club,” she said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “A young man shouldn’t be cooped up in a sick room, but out maintaining social connections.”
    â€œSpending time with you is no chore, Mother—I assure you. And with Bessie so newly arrived, I don’t mind staying at home. At least until she’s established.”
    â€œNonsense.” His mother waved a pale hand in the air. It would have been a more convincing gesture of dismissal if her hand hadn’t trembled quite so much. “She comes highly recommended, as you’ve said. Besides, Dora and Mrs. McLaughlin will be about should the new girl have any trouble.” Her voice dissolved into a series of ugly, rattling coughs. William stood back, biting his bottom lip.
    He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Shall I prepare some powder, Mother?”
    She sighed. “No, son. It makes me so sleepy. I’ll wait for Dora to bring breakfast. Surely I can hold out for that long.”
    â€œHow about I read some Jane Austen to you in the meanwhile? She would be charming company until your meal arrives, don’t you think?”
    â€œThat would be lovely, William. You’re such a dear.”
    As he reached over to her bedside table to pick up the well-worn book, he heard the sound of Mrs. McLaughlin stomping up the back stairs, then pounding, likely on the new maid’s door. The woman had the grace of a bull on a good day—and this morning sounded like a very bad day indeed.
    William opened the book where the marker lay and began to read.
    Dora delivered a breakfast of buttered muffins and eggs with diced ham. His mother only picked at it. Consumption had reduced her appetite to that of a hummingbird. After breakfast, Mother requested a dose of Dover’s Powder, which William prepared by mixing the concoction with a cup of hot tea. As expected, the medicine eased her coughing and also sedated her. She spent the morning napping. Leaving his door open, in case she should need him, William went back to bed, grateful when sleep claimed him at last.
    Mother woke shortly after noon, and he settled into his usual chair at her bedside. During her morning slumber, her braid had come slightly undone. In the absence of Fanny, Dora had done her best, but ladies’ hairstyles were not her forte. He hoped that Bessie was competent when it came to such things. Appearance was of tantamount important to his mother. She might be ill, but would see that as no excuse for being unkempt.
    Footsteps approached the door. Instead of two taps, as he expected, there was instead a very long pause. He and his mother exchanged a puzzled glance. He stood and walked toward the door to see what was going on, when three loud raps sounded on wood.
    He lifted the latch to find not Dora, but Bessie. Her eyes were wide, the green completely surrounded by white. She gripped the silver lunch tray tightly, and her left hand now wore a white bandage, which covered her knuckles.
    â€œGood afternoon, Bessie. Are you quite all right?”
    â€œYes.” She dropped her gaze to the lunch tray. “Sir,” she added at last. “I’m here with breakfast…no, lunch, for your mom…no, mother.”
    Oh dear. This unsteady creature was such a different person from the confident, lively woman he’d spoken with in the library just last night. Her transformation was astounding and a little disheartening. Perhaps he’d underestimated Mrs. McLaughlin.
    He lingered a moment, his back to his mother, until Bessie glanced up again. He gave