An American Duchess. Sharon Page
had lost Richmond, but she wondered: What was it like to lose someone and know they were having a happy life without you?
It must hurt deeply.
Then Julia gave a bright, ecstatic smile. She was gazing at something over Zoe’s shoulder. Zoe turned. A young man was walking through a gate in a low stone wall. A sign hung by the gate. Brideswell Charitable Hospital.
Julia brought her bubbly smile under control. Now she looked composed and ladylike as she made the introductions. But her voice lifted with soft excitement on his name: Dougal Campbell. “Mr. Campbell has just joined the hospital,” she explained to Zoe. “He studied surgery at the famous Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh. He is working with Dr. Drury at Brideswell’s hospital.”
Zoe held out her hand. Auburn-haired Campbell shook her hand, his grip firm but not crushing. He had an admirable handshake. A surgeon’s touch, she guessed. She would feel assured if he were her doctor, with his earnest eyes and handsome face.
Dr. Campbell fell into step with them, walking at Julia’s side. He spoke of cases he was working on while keeping the name of his patients a secret.
Julia said breathlessly, “Dr. Campbell saved the leg of a ten-year-old boy last winter. He was run over by a car’s wheel. It was believed the leg would have to be removed, that the break was too bad for it to be saved. But Dr. Campbell performed a miracle.”
The doctor blushed. When he looked at Julia, his brown eyes softened and he caught his breath. “You are too generous, my lady. I cannot work miracles. I do the best that I can. And I’m fortunate to be here. Your family is very generous in your patronage of the hospital.”
A shadow touched Julia’s face. Then she masked it and said brightly, “We are honored to be able to benefit such a worthwhile cause and such noble men as you and Dr. Drury.”
Were the Hazelton’s financial troubles the reason for Julia’s look of sadness? Zoe thought of her settlement—she had thought of her money as just keeping the family from having to sell the house. But Langford obviously was the major patron of the hospital. The entire village relied on the great house. It was a large responsibility. It had to say something that Langford didn’t want Sebastian to marry her, even for money.
After, as she and Julia walked back to Brideswell, Zoe said, “I think you like him.”
Julia glanced down demurely. “I admire him very much.”
“I think you might be falling in love.”
Julia looked up. “I don’t know. Not yet.” But she smiled.
Julia looked happy. Zoe was so pleased Julia was opening her heart to life and to love. “He seems a noble, wonderful man. Dedicated. Heroic. And very handsome,” Zoe said.
Julia blushed. “It would be a terrible shock to the family, though, if I wanted to be a doctor’s wife.”
“Julia, you have to marry for love. I won’t allow you to accept anything less,” Zoe vowed. “No matter what your family thinks.”
* * *
On Sunday, Zoe and the Hazeltons walked to church. She watched Langford walk with his mother into the churchyard before the service. His slender mother, who always walked ramrod straight because of her corset, leaned heavily on his arm. He led her to a white stone mausoleum. The duchess carried a bouquet of spring flowers and they disappeared inside. For Langford’s young brother? Zoe wondered. When they came out and walked back toward the church, the duchess was pale. She didn’t cry, but she looked older. And filled with sorrow.
After the service, Langford walked with his mother on the return to Brideswell. Sebastian was supposed to walk with her, but he’d begged off. She saw him slip into the village pub, furtively looking around before he went in.
Since the day was beautiful, Zoe strolled around the house. She was just about to go into the drawing room by the terrace doors when her mother’s voice reached her from inside.
“It should be a mother’s job to help arrange her own daughter’s engagement party,” Mother complained.
“But we do want an occasion befitting Brideswell, not an amusement park,” the dowager snapped. “I have handled several engagement balls and each one has been elegant and a success.”
“Well, I know what my Zoe would want. And I want to see my daughter happy.”
Oh, God. An engagement ball. As to her happiness, Mother rarely asked her what she wanted. After Billy’s death, Mother became more determined to guide Zoe’s life than ever.
She walked away from the drawing room. She had no intention of getting into the middle of that. Bathed in sunlight, the water on the lake sparkled in the distance. New leaves glimmered on the trees. The formal gardens glowed with new color. She walked toward the folly, a stone temple built on a hill.
She’d have to go through with an engagement ball. But the thought of lying so publicly made her stomach ache. She might be bold, but she was not thoughtless or without a conscience.
As she walked along the path that wound up the hill, she saw Langford standing by the door of another small stone building with a steep roof, delicate stained-glass windows and a pointed door. A cross hung above the door. It was a little chapel.
Zoe walked up to it, and Langford saw her from the end of the vestry. He came up to her.
“Your own chapel? It’s lovely.” She saw inside to an altar, with a red-and-gold cloth laid on it. Jewel-colored light spilled in from the stained-glass windows. Langford’s mother was on her knees before the altar, her head bowed.
“My father had it built for my mother, so she could come here and pray. Sometimes she has a priest come and give her mass. On Sunday, she comes in and says prayers for us all. Today, she is probably saying prayers for you, too.”
“She is very devoted to her faith.”
“She relied on it when my father made her unhappy.” Langford bent toward her and Zoe lost her breath. He was close enough to kiss her. She wanted it, even here in a chapel.
His lips almost brushed her ear. “I won’t let her be hurt.”
“I don’t want to hurt her,” Zoe said. And she turned and left. Before she did something sinful and kissed her fiancé’s brother in front of a house of God.
* * *
All the chandeliers blazed and hundreds of people filled Brideswell’s huge ballroom.
Zoe fanned herself. She wore a light dress in soft pink, with small straps and a short skirt, but she was still melting, at her own engagement party. Mother had spent a week crowing that it was the most anticipated event in England.
Zoe had doubted it, but as she stood on the receiving line with Sebastian, she could tell quite a few members of the British peerage were here out of curiosity.
After the long line of guests were inside, Sebastian made the formal announcement of his engagement, kissed her hand, and the orchestra started up. Sebastian swirled her into a waltz. He hadn’t attempted to woo her for days. A friend of his had arrived at Brideswell—a young former army captain, John Ransome. Captain Ransome was a beautiful man with high cheekbones, large brown eyes and full lips. And Zoe had noticed that the two men spent a lot of time together.
As the music faded after the first dance, Sebastian bowed to her. Then he disappeared. She saw him and Ransome near the terrace door. Ransome went out first, and then Sebastian followed.
She wouldn’t mind fleeing this thing, too. Zoe snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing footman. She gave one to Julia, who had come up to her side.
“Typical Sebastian, making himself scarce at his own party,” Julia said. “And he’s taken Captain Ransome. Isobel has been staring at Captain Ransome all night. I think she has a crush.”
Конец