Read Online Enlightened by Joanna Chambers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joanna Chambers
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David’s nerves.
David turned back to look at him, irritated. “Must you order me around like that?” he demanded. “I’m not one of your footmen, and anyway, dinner’s eight hours away.”
Murdo’s jaw was set and belligerent. “I’m not ordering you around, merely asking you to ensure you are back sooner rather than later. After all, I’m setting off for London first thing tomorrow morning.”
And in that moment, David saw what this was really about.
“I promise I’ll be back,” he said. “We’ll have tonight, Murdo.”
Murdo’s gaze slid away, his cheeks pinkening slightly as he turned aside. “All right, I’ll see you later then.”
David was still half smiling over their exchange as he left the townhouse, despite the fact that he hated the cane and that he was dreading what he would find when he reached Chalmers’s house.
He wasn’t long out the door, though, before he wished he’d argued his point about the cane a bit harder. He preferred not to use it when he didn’t need to, and for such a short walk it seemed ridiculous. He hated the tapping noise the silver tip made when it struck the cobbles under his feet, a constant reminder of his disability, as if the ache in his hip and knee wasn’t enough.
When he arrived at Chalmers’s house, though, all thoughts of his own troubles and petty concerns fled. It hadn’t occurred to him that there would be any outward sign of the man who lay dying inside, but of course there was. The pavement and road in front of his friend’s house was strewn with a thick layer of straw to muffle the sounds of passing carriages and horses and the footsteps of pedestrians. It was an outward sign of terrible sickness. Of imminent death. And for the first time, David felt the truth of it—Chalmers really was dying.
He approached the front door slowly, staring at its glossy exterior for a moment before raising his hand to knock. The maidservant who answered was quiet and subdued, keeping her gaze downcast as she stood aside to let David pass.
Inside, the house was as silent as the muffled cobbles outside. David was shown into the drawing room, where he took a seat on a stiff horsehair sofa, balancing his cane beside him. While he waited, he became fascinated by the out-of-time ticking of the two clocks in the room, the deep-toned longcase in the corner and the chirpy ormolu on the mantel. The smaller one ticked an instant after the larger one so that it seemed they kept two times, two sets of twenty-four hours, one running a fraction of a second ahead of the other.
After a while, the door opened and a woman entered. David’s first thought was how relieved he was it wasn’t Mrs. Chalmers, with whom he’d dreaded making stilted conversation. The woman who came in was younger than Mrs. Chalmers, and she was dressed in a sober grey gown, with a white apron and a white lace cap that covered her hair so thoroughly David couldn’t have said what colour it was.
“Mr. Lauriston,” she said, approaching him. Her voice was low and pleasant.
He stood up quickly, making the cane clatter to the floor. The woman had reached him now, and she bent to pick it up at the same moment David did, causing them to bump heads.
“Oh, that was clumsy of me. I do beg your pardon,” David said.
“Not at all.” She laughed, handing the cane over. “My fault entirely. It’s second nature to me to pick things up after people, I’m afraid. I’m Mrs. Jessop, Mr. Chalmers’s nurse.”
David bowed. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
“Mr. Chalmers will be pleased to see you, sir. He’s been asking after you for the last few days. Since Mr. Ferguson said he’d written to ask you to come.”
“How is he?”
Mrs. Jessop’s expression remained serene, but her pale gaze softened with sad sympathy. “Not well, sir. I’m afraid it will not be long now.”
“How long do you think?”
She shook her head. “Impossible to say for certain, but no more
David turned back to look at him, irritated. “Must you order me around like that?” he demanded. “I’m not one of your footmen, and anyway, dinner’s eight hours away.”
Murdo’s jaw was set and belligerent. “I’m not ordering you around, merely asking you to ensure you are back sooner rather than later. After all, I’m setting off for London first thing tomorrow morning.”
And in that moment, David saw what this was really about.
“I promise I’ll be back,” he said. “We’ll have tonight, Murdo.”
Murdo’s gaze slid away, his cheeks pinkening slightly as he turned aside. “All right, I’ll see you later then.”
David was still half smiling over their exchange as he left the townhouse, despite the fact that he hated the cane and that he was dreading what he would find when he reached Chalmers’s house.
He wasn’t long out the door, though, before he wished he’d argued his point about the cane a bit harder. He preferred not to use it when he didn’t need to, and for such a short walk it seemed ridiculous. He hated the tapping noise the silver tip made when it struck the cobbles under his feet, a constant reminder of his disability, as if the ache in his hip and knee wasn’t enough.
When he arrived at Chalmers’s house, though, all thoughts of his own troubles and petty concerns fled. It hadn’t occurred to him that there would be any outward sign of the man who lay dying inside, but of course there was. The pavement and road in front of his friend’s house was strewn with a thick layer of straw to muffle the sounds of passing carriages and horses and the footsteps of pedestrians. It was an outward sign of terrible sickness. Of imminent death. And for the first time, David felt the truth of it—Chalmers really was dying.
He approached the front door slowly, staring at its glossy exterior for a moment before raising his hand to knock. The maidservant who answered was quiet and subdued, keeping her gaze downcast as she stood aside to let David pass.
Inside, the house was as silent as the muffled cobbles outside. David was shown into the drawing room, where he took a seat on a stiff horsehair sofa, balancing his cane beside him. While he waited, he became fascinated by the out-of-time ticking of the two clocks in the room, the deep-toned longcase in the corner and the chirpy ormolu on the mantel. The smaller one ticked an instant after the larger one so that it seemed they kept two times, two sets of twenty-four hours, one running a fraction of a second ahead of the other.
After a while, the door opened and a woman entered. David’s first thought was how relieved he was it wasn’t Mrs. Chalmers, with whom he’d dreaded making stilted conversation. The woman who came in was younger than Mrs. Chalmers, and she was dressed in a sober grey gown, with a white apron and a white lace cap that covered her hair so thoroughly David couldn’t have said what colour it was.
“Mr. Lauriston,” she said, approaching him. Her voice was low and pleasant.
He stood up quickly, making the cane clatter to the floor. The woman had reached him now, and she bent to pick it up at the same moment David did, causing them to bump heads.
“Oh, that was clumsy of me. I do beg your pardon,” David said.
“Not at all.” She laughed, handing the cane over. “My fault entirely. It’s second nature to me to pick things up after people, I’m afraid. I’m Mrs. Jessop, Mr. Chalmers’s nurse.”
David bowed. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
“Mr. Chalmers will be pleased to see you, sir. He’s been asking after you for the last few days. Since Mr. Ferguson said he’d written to ask you to come.”
“How is he?”
Mrs. Jessop’s expression remained serene, but her pale gaze softened with sad sympathy. “Not well, sir. I’m afraid it will not be long now.”
“How long do you think?”
She shook her head. “Impossible to say for certain, but no more
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