Read Online Definitely Not Mr. Darcy by Karen Doornebos - Free Book Online Page B

away.
    â€œMr. Wrightman did not bleed you, my dear. Look at your arm. Do you see any open wounds?”
    She checked both arms. “No.”
    Fiona swung open the wardrobe doors and hung a yellow gown, then a green one, and then another white, each one more exquisite than the last.
    Chloe bit her lip and stared at the leeches, slurping and slithering in blood, gorged and happy as caffeine addicts after a few triple espressos.
    â€œWhose blood is that, then?” she asked as politely as possible as she slid to the side of the bed farthest from the jar.
    â€œIt’s pig’s blood,” said Mr. Wrightman. He picked up the jar of leeches as if it were a glass of red wine. “I’ll take them away.”
    â€œWhy did you tie my arm, then?”
    â€œIt’s what any apothecary would do when a lady who didn’t faint pushes away the smelling salts. But luckily, it wasn’t necessary to do a bleeding. This time.” He winked at her.
    She clenched her fists. The pug was now in the bed with her, nudging her arm with his slimy nose to get her to pet him.
    Mr. Wrightman held up the jar to the camera. “Don’t you find it fascinating, Miss Parker, how leeches cure everything from melancholy to deadly fevers?”
    â€œI find it fascinating you diagnosed me with a fainting spell when in fact it may have been something much more serious, considering the gunfire. And what am I, some sort of guinea pig? How could you even pretend to bleed me with leeches? As if I’m part of some kind of experiment here?”
    Mrs. Crescent rubbed her pregnant belly and whispered to Chloe. “Mr. Wrightman is a doctor at the finest hospital in London, dear. Truly, you were never in any danger.”
    The piano downstairs stopped.
    Chloe looked over at him leaning against the doorjamb. “Oh,” she said.
    He put the leeches into his medicine bag. “The carriage ran into a rock and the wheel broke at the very moment that Lady Grace happened to fire her pistol—in the opposite direction.”
    Chloe wanted to believe him.
    He bowed. “If you will excuse me, Miss Parker, you seem to be quite recovered. All that’s required now is a bit of rest. If you need leeching, or any other medical assistance, I’m happy to oblige. Pleasure meeting you, welcome to Bridesbridge.” His coattails swished behind him.
    Something sank inside her when he swooshed out the door. She hadn’t even thanked him. Worse, she implied that he was incompetent. Worse yet, she didn’t even let him know how happy she was to be here, despite the gunfire and leeches. But come on, he feigned bleeding her with leeches.
    A woman laughed in the hallway. “Really, Mr. Wrightman, you flatter me.” Grace sauntered into Chloe’s room without knocking, chin in the air. “He’s such a good man,” she said. “So observant. So intelligent. So kind of him to even notice, much less compliment, my pianoforte playing while he has a patient in the house.”
    Fiona and Mrs. Crescent curtsied while Chloe glared.
    â€œDon’t bother curtsying on my account, Miss Parker,” Grace said. “Are we feeling better?”
    Chloe looked at the camera. “Infinitely. Much obliged that her ladyship would inquire.”
    â€œYou do look rather piqued. Fiona, do get us some tea and a proper meal. I’m starved. And no doubt Miss Parker and Mrs. Crescent are, too.”
    True, Chloe was famished.
    Fiona waited until Chloe nodded in approval.
    Grace lounged on Chloe’s settee in front of the window. “With all this fuss over you, Miss Parker, it seems the staff entirely forgot our breakfast.”
    â€œThe audacity. Perhaps they’ll whip up a bullet pudding in your honor for dessert tonight.”
    Grace looked confused and her blond sausage curls bounced as she slid the turban off her head.
    Chloe smiled. Grace didn’t get the obscure reference to the festive