Rebecca Hagan Lee (20 page)

Leah finished with the dress and grabbed a silver-backed brush from the dresser where she proceeded to brush Cristina's unruly curls into a smooth knot at the back of her head, pinning it into place with sharp, jerky stabs of the hairpins.

"Ouch!" Cristina exclaimed. "Doctor Jameson will have to sew up my scalp if you keep jabbing me with those hairpins. I don't know what is bothering you this morning, Leah, but you don't have to take it out on me."

"You know good and well what's botherin' me this mornin'," Leah reminded Cristina. "You are. You and Lord Lawrence."

"Are you saying you don't like Lord Lawrence?" Cristina asked haughtily.

"I like him," Leah told her. "I just don't like you endin' up in his bed without the benefit of marriage vows. In case you've forgotten, most young ladies don't sleep with men before they marry 'em."

"Most young ladies aren't sold by their mothers as mistresses either. Most young ladies find husbands in the accepted fashion. I don't have that option.

I have Blake instead and maybe one day soon--"

"You're dreamin', Cristina. He may want you now, but..." Leah had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out the reason for Lord Lawrence's present state of bachelorhood. She couldn't really give her blessing to the affair between Cristina and Lord Lawrence, but neither could she condemn them for it.

From what Mackie had told her, Leah could see that Lord Lawrence had had as little happiness as Cristina. Who was she to tell his secret and burst Cristina's bubble? Who was she to destroy their moment of happiness? The love they were building? For Leah could look at her young mistress and see that Cristina was in love with Blake Ashford and she suspected he felt the same way, whether he knew it or not. Weren't all God's creatures entitled to a bit of love from someone? Leah felt in her heart that Lord Lawrence cared deeply for Cristina and that he would never hurt her intentionally, but the truth would hurt and despite her genuine liking for Blake Ashford, Leah felt she must do what she could to keep Cristina from pinning too much hope on the future. What they shared was in the present and Cristina must understand that her happiness would be fleeting. There could be no future in it. "I know you care for Lord Lawrence, child, but you mustn't put too much faith in what a man says in bed. Don't expect too much."

"I won't expect more than he can give."

Leah was merciless. "That's what you say now. What will you say when you're big with his child and he won't marry you?"

"That won't happen."

"It will if you continue to share the man's bed."

Cristina thought for a moment. "Well, I'm sure if it did happen, Blake would marry me."

"Don't be too sure," Leah warned. "The world is full of bastards whose mother believed the gent would marry her." Leah continued to raise obstacles.

"Cristina, Lord Lawrence is a member of the queen's government. He's always travelin'. He don't have time for a family life. He don't need a wife or a family. What he wants is a mistress."

"You're wrong, Leah. He isn't like that."

"He's a man, ain't he? And he got what he wanted, didn't he?"

Angry at Leah for spoiling her beautiful morning, Cristina dismissed her maid. "You've had your say, Leah, so why don't you go tell the doctor to come on up?"

The doctor was a small man with curly red hair several shades brighter than Cristina's. He had sparkling blue eyes and an enormous red mustache that obscured the rest of his features. He was handsome in an unconventional way, and young. Cristina liked him instantly, although he certainly didn't resemble any doctor she could ever remember seeing. And he didn't sound like a doctor, either.

"You don't look ill." Nigel Jameson commented upon entering Cristina's bedroom. "From what Blake said this morning, I expected to find you at death's door. Instead I find you looking radiant and a bit like the cat who's been at the cream. But I suppose a good night's sleep does indeed work wonders." His voice trailed off into meaningless mumbles.

Cristina caught his meaning at once and blushed to the roots of her copper curls. "Blake sent you here? Why?"

"To see you, of course. Blake was afraid you might have suffered a relapse." The doctor's smile widened. "He told me you'd been pale and listless for the past few days and not at all your charming self. I tried to assure him that it might be one of your 'off' times, but he was concerned about you, so he dragged me from my warm bed at an ungodly hour this morning so I could check on you."

"I've never felt better," Cristina assured him.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now let's get down to business, shall we?" The doctor offered his hand to her. "We haven't been formally introduced, Miss Fairfax.

I'm Nigel Jameson and I'm happy to see you awake this morning. As I've already seen you asleep several times." His merry eyes twinkled in amusement and Cristina had the feeling that he was indeed pleased about something, though she wasn't altogether sure it had anything to do with the state of her health.

He stared down at her, studying every nuance of her appearance from head to toe, and Cristina had the feeling he saw a great deal more about her than she was ready to reveal. It was uncanny and a little frightening to know he found her so transparent, but it was impossible to be offended by those sparkling blue eyes.

Cristina returned his smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jameson.

Thank you for coming today and for taking care of me while I was ill. I understand I owe you a great deal."

"Who told you that nonsense? Mackie?" At Cristina's nod, he continued,

"That's ridiculous. I did nothing any other brilliant, self-sacrificing, extraordinarily attractive young physician would have done to save such a lovely patient. And now that we have all the formalities out of the way, let's get down to business and have a look at you. If you would be so kind as to step behind the screen and undress."

Cristina reddened considerably. "Undress? But I thought..."

Nigel gritted his teeth. "You thought I would pull a female doll out of my medical bag and ask you to show me your aches and pains by pointing to the corresponding places on the doll. Right?"

Cristina nodded. It was the accepted practice among ladies in Victorian society. Ladies, especially unmarried ladies, did not undress in the company of a doctor.

"I'm afraid I don't practice medicine according to the dictates of society.

I'm considered to be a radical. You see, after my years at Oxford, I did practical training in Edinburgh and Paris, before becoming a fellow in the Royal College of Surgeons, so I tend to rely on knowledge, experience, skill, and my own observations for my diagnosis. I care more about the health and the life of my patients than I do about their 'delicate sensibilities.' I examined you thoroughly when you were brought here in an unconscious state. But if it will make you feel more comfortable, I'll welcome a chaperon. Shall I call your maid? Lady Wethering? Mackie?"

She stared at him. He was so perceptive. Could he tell? Would he know that she had spent the night making love with Blake Ashford? She had been too ill to be aware of the doctor's scrutiny when she first arrived at Lawrence House, but today she was conscious and had the memories of Blake's caresses, his exciting exploration of her most intimate body regions and the gentle, almost loving way he had bathed the perspiration and the scent of him from her body, washing each inch of her with a damp cloth after their impromptu morning bout of passionate lovemaking. Her memories and Nigel Jameson's too acute gaze made Cristina extremely self-conscious.

"Is there anybody there?" Nigel chuckled as Cristina turned an even brighter shade of embarrassed red and immediately ceased her romantic woolgathering. "Shall I send for Mackie?"

Cristina shook her head. "No. That won't be necessary. I'd rather this remain private."

Nigel nodded his approval as Cristina walked over to the screen standing in the corner of bedchamber, stepped behind it, and began to remove her clothing.

When she reappeared, Cristina wore her chemise and corset. "I couldn't undo my laces," she explained, her face red with embarrassment.

"Quite so," Nigel replied matter-of-factly. "If you'll turn around and allow me."

Cristina did as the doctor asked and Nigel quickly unlaced the constricting corset and tossed it aside. He motioned for Cristina to sit on the bed and once she obliged, Nigel began his examination.

He slipped her chemise off her shoulders and listened to her rapid heartbeat and shallow breathing. "That's quite a collection of bruises you've got there," he commented and Cristina followed his gaze to the yellow-brown and greenish circles marring the flesh of her upper arms.

Cristina shrugged. "I bruise easily."

"You've added to them since I first examined you. Did Lord Lawrence do that to you?"

Cristina thought of the dozens of ways Blake had touched her while he made love with her--sometimes gently and sometimes not so gently. She was bound to have a few black and blue marks. "No, of course not. At least not intentionally."

"Care to tell me about it?" Nigel studied her closely, unfooled by her sudden interest in the lace of her shift. "Miss Fairfax?"

Cristina looked up to find his blue eyes serious and full of concern for her. She wanted to confide in someone who could be impartial and not judge and scold her as Leah often did. She wanted to trust this man who offered her compassion and friendship.

Nigel watched the play of emotions on her face and knew she was struggling to make a decision. "You can trust me, Miss Fairfax. My lips are sealed."

Cristina read the compassion in his eyes and the words suddenly came pouring out of her like water through a leaky dike. She told him everything.

"Maybe I should have let go of the sheets," Cristina concluded.

"If you had, I'd probably be tending your broken arms and legs, if not your neck." Nigel smiled at her. "So you spent the night at Marlborough House in Blake Ashford's bed."

Cristina nodded. "I woke up in the middle of the night and Lord Lawrence was in bed beside me. I tried to pull away but he held on to me. I fought him and hit him in the face. I think he bled a little. I hid until he went back to bed. I must have fallen asleep there, because I was on the floor and very ill when I awoke again. I dressed as best I could and sneaked away. But we shared a bed and well, now I worry about having a baby."

"Did Blake try to make love to you that night? Did he touch you intimately in any way?"

"No."

"Then there's nothing for you to worry about. You're still a virgin."

"But..." Cristina stopped abruptly and flushed red to the roots of her hair as she pierced the doctor with those great green eyes, pleading for him to understand.

"Have you shared a bed with Lord Lawrence since that night?" Nigel suddenly blushed as red as Cristina.

"Yes."

"When?" he asked.

"Last night," she admitted. "And this morning."

"You were bleeding quite heavily when Blake brought you here. Perhaps you'll be safe for now, but we must take preventive measures for the future, and plan for an eventual possibility."

"What kind of measures?" Cristina spoke quietly.

Nigel took several items out of his medical bag and began to explain the different methods of birth control. "I can't do anything about last night," he told her when he finished his explanations. "You might already be with child.

We'll just have to wait and see. It doesn't always happen the first time you make love with a man, but it is a distinct possibility." Cristina's painfully innocent query angered Nigel. The girl had the best education money could buy, had spent the night with a man, and yet she was horribly ignorant of the workings of her own body. It was appalling that in these progressive times, society deemed it necessary to keep young women and even young men ignorant of the functions of their bodies, especially the sexual functions. Why, his grandmother had known more about sex as a young virgin than did many of the married females of his day! It was absolutely incredible and Nigel had made a solemn vow to educate as many young women as he possibly could. His gynecological and obstetrics hospital was dedicated to that purpose and his family and friends generously supported Nigel's charity.

He faced Cristina and reached for her hand as he lowered himself onto the edge of her bed. He sat beside her, and patted her hand comfortingly.

"What will happen if I am with child? What will I do? I have no place to go."

"Go? My dear young woman, you won't need to go anywhere. You'll stay right here at Lawrence House where Blake and Mackie and Lady Wethering and I can take care of you."

Cristina shuddered. After Lady Wethering's frank warning last night, there was no question of her causing a scandal by remaining at Lawrence House or in London. She would have to retire to the country, or better yet leave the country. If worse came to worst she would think of something, but unless Blake offered to marry her, there would be no question of her remaining. "I couldn't stay here. That would be impossible. I would be barred from society. No one would speak to me. And no one would receive me. Or Blake. We'd be outcast."

"London society is that important to you, Cristina?" Nigel's face hardened and his voice was stern.

"I don't care about London society for myself," Cristina replied. "But I do care about Blake and Lady Wethering and the opinions of the people in his household and I care about the welfare of an innocent child. I don't want to be responsible for ruining Blake's good name or damaging my child's future."

Nigel breathed a sigh of relief. "If you're concerned about the welfare of innocent children, then I know I can count on you to be sensible." He thought not only of an unborn child, but of Cristina herself, because despite her recent experiences and her mysterious relationship with Blake, Cristina Fairfax was still a babe in the woods. "I'll know that if you do discover you're with child, you won't be swallowing any more of your maid's concoctions or visiting any Seven Dials midwives or madams. Too many women in this country die from ignorance, poison, and botched surgeries because they're trying to conform to the standards of a hypocritical society."