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Authors: Regina Richards
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Mother. He'll have to come soon. The wedding is tomorrow."
Elizabeth returned to the window and pulled aside the lacy pink curtains. Below, the carriage rolled to a halt before the main entrance. Mr. Fosse stepped out and turned to assist his new bride and mother-in-law while a footman helped the coachman wrestle baggage off the top of the vehicle. Amanda was beaming with happiness. Marriage obviously agreed with her. Mrs. Blakely said something to Mr. Fosse and they all laughed, a family well in charity with one another. Elizabeth's heart lightened. Things had turned out well for the Fosses.
"My girl will be married tomorrow....He will take care of you?" Amelia eyes fluttered as she fought sleep. "Is he wealthy? Handsome?"
"Yes, Mother. Lord Devlin is wealthy and handsome." And absent , Elizabeth thought.
Between the well-sprung carriage, the feather bed, and the doctor's carefully timed doses of medication, Amelia Smith had made the journey from London with surprising ease. By the time they'd reached Heaven's Edge, Elizabeth had been so grateful to Lord Devlin for his care of her mother, she'd almost forgotten his previous neglect. But after a week of waiting at the Duke of Marlbourne's country house with no word from their host or his son, any goodwill she'd felt toward her fiancé was gone.
"But is he...kind? Will he..?" Her mother's words were garbled now.
Elizabeth left the window to tuck the blankets around her fragile form. Tomorrow she was to be married, yet she had no answers for her mother's half-formed questions. She knew next to nothing about the man who would soon be her husband, except that he could by turns be thoughtful and thoughtless. What else he was, well, did it really matter? Wasn't it enough her mother would be cared for now regardless of which of them left this world first?
Guilt stabbed through Elizabeth. She should tell him. Devlin had a right to know he was taking on not one dying woman but two, and that he would likely be a bridegroom and a widower in the same season. But there'd been no opportunity. She'd been in the same room with her betrothed only once since he'd announced their engagement in Mrs. Huntington's parlor. That once had been at the Fosse's wedding and there had been no time for private speech between them. Had he intended it that way? He'd ignored her messages, avoided speaking with her in person, and sent another man to escort her from London. Was he already regretting his choice?
"You should be downstairs greeting your guests."
Elizabeth didn't even start at the sound of the doctor's voice, so accustomed had she become over the last week to the way Doctor Bergen came and went without a sound. She would find him suddenly at her side, as if he had been there for a long time studying her. At first she'd found it unnerving. How was it that a door that creaked when one of the maids entered the room never announced this man's arrival?
"It wouldn't be appropriate," Elizabeth said.
"You will be mistress here tomorrow," the doctor said.
"But today I am a guest like everyone else. If Lord Devlin were here I would stand with him to greet his guests, but to do so alone would be--" Elizabeth shrugged. She gestured toward her mother, changing the subject. "How long?"
"A few days, a month perhaps. It's hard to say. She's a strong woman."
"But not strong enough," Elizabeth said softly.
"Death doesn't always win, but in this case it will." Doctor Bergen moved close behind her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Her mother's face was still and peaceful, her skin the color of fine beeswax candles. If not for the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath the quilts... A shiver ran down Elizabeth's spine. She turned toward the doctor, wanting reassurance. Pale blue eyes gazed down into hers.
He was so like Devlin, she thought. Their eyes were differing shades of blue and the doctor's hair was perhaps a little darker, but it curled in the same wild manner at the
Elizabeth returned to the window and pulled aside the lacy pink curtains. Below, the carriage rolled to a halt before the main entrance. Mr. Fosse stepped out and turned to assist his new bride and mother-in-law while a footman helped the coachman wrestle baggage off the top of the vehicle. Amanda was beaming with happiness. Marriage obviously agreed with her. Mrs. Blakely said something to Mr. Fosse and they all laughed, a family well in charity with one another. Elizabeth's heart lightened. Things had turned out well for the Fosses.
"My girl will be married tomorrow....He will take care of you?" Amelia eyes fluttered as she fought sleep. "Is he wealthy? Handsome?"
"Yes, Mother. Lord Devlin is wealthy and handsome." And absent , Elizabeth thought.
Between the well-sprung carriage, the feather bed, and the doctor's carefully timed doses of medication, Amelia Smith had made the journey from London with surprising ease. By the time they'd reached Heaven's Edge, Elizabeth had been so grateful to Lord Devlin for his care of her mother, she'd almost forgotten his previous neglect. But after a week of waiting at the Duke of Marlbourne's country house with no word from their host or his son, any goodwill she'd felt toward her fiancé was gone.
"But is he...kind? Will he..?" Her mother's words were garbled now.
Elizabeth left the window to tuck the blankets around her fragile form. Tomorrow she was to be married, yet she had no answers for her mother's half-formed questions. She knew next to nothing about the man who would soon be her husband, except that he could by turns be thoughtful and thoughtless. What else he was, well, did it really matter? Wasn't it enough her mother would be cared for now regardless of which of them left this world first?
Guilt stabbed through Elizabeth. She should tell him. Devlin had a right to know he was taking on not one dying woman but two, and that he would likely be a bridegroom and a widower in the same season. But there'd been no opportunity. She'd been in the same room with her betrothed only once since he'd announced their engagement in Mrs. Huntington's parlor. That once had been at the Fosse's wedding and there had been no time for private speech between them. Had he intended it that way? He'd ignored her messages, avoided speaking with her in person, and sent another man to escort her from London. Was he already regretting his choice?
"You should be downstairs greeting your guests."
Elizabeth didn't even start at the sound of the doctor's voice, so accustomed had she become over the last week to the way Doctor Bergen came and went without a sound. She would find him suddenly at her side, as if he had been there for a long time studying her. At first she'd found it unnerving. How was it that a door that creaked when one of the maids entered the room never announced this man's arrival?
"It wouldn't be appropriate," Elizabeth said.
"You will be mistress here tomorrow," the doctor said.
"But today I am a guest like everyone else. If Lord Devlin were here I would stand with him to greet his guests, but to do so alone would be--" Elizabeth shrugged. She gestured toward her mother, changing the subject. "How long?"
"A few days, a month perhaps. It's hard to say. She's a strong woman."
"But not strong enough," Elizabeth said softly.
"Death doesn't always win, but in this case it will." Doctor Bergen moved close behind her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Her mother's face was still and peaceful, her skin the color of fine beeswax candles. If not for the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath the quilts... A shiver ran down Elizabeth's spine. She turned toward the doctor, wanting reassurance. Pale blue eyes gazed down into hers.
He was so like Devlin, she thought. Their eyes were differing shades of blue and the doctor's hair was perhaps a little darker, but it curled in the same wild manner at the
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