The Viscount Made Me Do It by Diana Quincy

“Your viscount could be behind it all,” Evan pointed out.

“I don’t have the energy to argue with you.” Hanna finished wiping down the examining tables as she and Evan prepared to close up for the night. “I know you dislike him.”

“And you don’t seem to be able to see him for what he is.”

“Yes, I know you suspect he’s a killer.”

“He might be. I obviously cannot say for sure. But in this case, Dr. Pratt is practically a father to Griffin,” Evan pointed out. “The viscount readily admits that he came to see you under false pretenses.”

“But then I cured him.”

“Why did he come to see you in the first place, if not to expose you as a fraud?” Evan straightened the waiting-area chairs as he talked. “Why else would he seek you out when his guardian has a serious aversion to bonesetters?”

Hanna debated how much to tell Evan. “He came to see me on a totally unrelated matter.”

Evan straightened. “What matter?”

“Unknowingly, I had a stolen necklace that belonged to his mother. Griff saw me wearing it. He found out who I was and came to see me in the hopes of discovering where I’d gotten the necklace.”

“Where did you get it?”

“From my father. Sometimes his patients paid in jewelry and other goods.” Hanna felt completely drained. She just wanted to go home and curl up in bed under a blanket. She called for Lucy, who was sweeping the back office. “It’s been a long and trying day. I’m going home.”

“Keep in mind what I have said about Griffin.”

“How can I not?” She pulled the front door open. “I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to.”

Griff returned the following day. “I’m hosting a fundraiser for the hospital. You should come.”

Hanna shut the drawer to the commode by the examining table. “Is that a jest?”

“No.” Pacing away from her, Griff glanced at the servant girl cleaning the floor. “Where is your intolerable associate?”

“Dr. Bridges? He is paying a house call to an elderly patient.”

Griff was relieved the man wasn’t around. “Attending the fundraiser would advance your cause.”

“In what way? The purpose of the event is to help your former guardian’s hospital. If you’ll recall, the man hates me.”

“He detests what you represent.”

“What is that, exactly?”

“The future of medicine. He’s not ready for that. Norman is very tied to the old ways in his approach to medical care. He’ll come around.”

“By the time he does, it shall be too late for me. I am about to lose my right to practice bonesetting in London. I’ll have to return to Manchester and see patients there.”

His gut twisted at the thought. He wanted Hanna here. Where he could see her. Where he could be with her. “That is why you must attend. Waiting until the commission hearing to advance your cause will be too late.”

Hanna gathered up some patient records and headed for the back office. “How does attending your charity event change anything?”

“Some of the commission members will be there.” He followed her. “I’ll make the introductions and tell them how you repaired my arm.”

“How do you know who is on the commission?”

“I’ve made some inquiries. Most are physicians. Others are men of influence.”

“Men of privilege such as yourself. Peers.”

“Yes.”

“Men like Viscount Payton, Mansfield’s father. He’ll be as strong a detractor as you are an advocate. And people will make certain assumptions as to why you are supporting me. Dr. Pratt believes you have very personal reasons for coming to my defense.”

“I am speaking up for you because you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“That’s not exactly true. I did put out Mansfield’s wrist.”

“He provoked you.”

“But will your commission of nobles and respected doctors see it that way? Or will they see a common woman, the swarthy daughter of immigrant merchants, who has the audacity to stand up for herself? Will they scorn a member of the laboring class who doesn’t properly respect her betters?”

Griff made a sound of frustration. “I will make them see the truth.”

“They will never take the word of a bonesetter over a viscount and his son.”

He rubbed two fingers between his brows. “God, what a mess.”

“If the men who run London want to be rid of me, then I am done for.”

“It is unfair.”

“The world is an unjust place for many.”

“It shouldn’t be.” He forced himself to unclench his jaw. “Please don’t abandon all hope without a fight.”

“Oh, I am not giving up. I intend to make my case before the commission. I will fight for my right to work in London. But I am also realistic. I am prepared for the panel to rule against me.”

“You say you intend to fight. Then, fight,” he implored. “Start by attending the fundraiser. Your attendance conveys respectability. If the commission members meet and talk with you, they will see that you are not a charlatan.”

“It won’t make a difference.” She placed the records on the desk. “That sort sticks together.”

“I don’t. I stick by you.”

She gave him a soft smile that made him light-headed. “You are special.”

“As are you. You must launch your own offensive. Make the commission members see you as you wish to be viewed. Not as the fraud Payton or Mansfield or any of the others wish to paint you.”

She made a face. “I don’t know the first thing about attending fine parties.”

“You won’t be the only outcast there.” He paused. He needed to be completely honest with her. No matter how difficult it was. “Society doesn’t fully accept me, either. Because of what happened to my parents.”

She settled her hips back against the desk. “You don’t have to do this.”

His chest hurt. He slid into a seat. “You don’t understand.” Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look up at her. “Half of society assumes I did it. That I killed them.” He braced himself and waited for the inevitable reaction. Condemnation. Revulsion. Fear.

Instead of pulling away, Hanna leaned forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I know you are not capable of something so terrible.”

Relief swamped him. He turned his head to plant a kiss at her wrist. He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to contain his emotions. She slipped into his lap, putting her arms around his neck. “I don’t require any explanations.” She kissed his forehead. “I know you.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“I just am.”

“You should know that my standing by you might not necessarily help.” He swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat. “Because of what people believe. Those old rumors.”

“Perhaps you do have the right of it.” She straightened and lifted her chin. “I should meet those toffs and snobbish physicians. I shall be at your fundraiser. And I shall be proud to have you by my side showing your support.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.” Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “Now that we’ve settled that issue, you will notice that we are alone.”

“And?”

“I quite enjoy kissing you. And would like to experience that again. But we must hurry because Lucy could come back here at any minute.”

He grinned. “I am always happy to be of service.”

“Which is very fortunate for me.” Her face came down to meet his. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her long and slow, taking his time to savor her. She stroked her tongue along his, tasting him, a bit hesitantly at first but then more boldly. Sliding one hand up to cup her breast through her gown, Griff fondled her while allowing her to control the kiss.

“Miss?” Lucy’s voice called from out on the dispensary floor.

Hanna broke away. “Coming,” she called out while staring straight into Griff’s eyes. Her breathing was heavy, her cheeks flushed. “I must go.”

“We were just getting to the good part.” Griff’s body was heated and primed. He seemed destined to forever be left wanting when it came to Hanna.

“You really are an excellent teacher.” Planting one last kiss on his lips, Hanna came to her feet. Her radiant expression made his heart thump hard. And then she was off to see what the girl needed.

Hanna stared up at the delicate plasterwork adorning the sitting room. The Duke of Huntington’s butler had put her there while he went to inform his mistress that she had a visitor. Sometimes Hanna forgot how grandly her cousin lived. Although she shouldn’t. Leela had grown up in a different world. Her mother had married a marquess, and Leela was now wed to a duke.

Hanna couldn’t envision ever being at home in this world. The landscape on the wall was probably worth more money than Hanna would earn in her lifetime.

“Hanna, this is a pleasant surprise.” Leela crossed the room to embrace her cousin. She pulled back so she could see Hanna’s face, her lovely, luminous eyes filled with curiosity. “Is Citi well? You haven’t come with bad news, have you?”

“No, not at all. I’m sorry to intrude.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m thrilled to see you. Come and sit.” Hanna wasn’t surprised that the duchess received her in a faded dressing gown, with her long curly waves haphazardly secured in a low bun. Her splendid cousin didn’t care what society thought of her. Ever since causing a minor scandal when they’d wed last year, Leela and her duke did as they pleased. “I could use a respite. Hughes is fetching us something to eat.”

Hanna settled on the sofa with Leela. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m starved, and I insist that you eat with me. I was writing and lost track of time.” Leela scripted travelogues. Her first three volumes, Travels in Arabia, were a London sensation. Her most recent release detailed her and the duke’s marriage trip to Morocco. “Your visit could not come at a better time. Hunt and I sail for Athens the day after tomorrow. I am eager to write about Greece.”

“You live such an adventurous life.”

“It wasn’t always so. When I started to follow my heart, rather than society’s rules, my life truly began. Enough about me.” She patted Hanna’s knee. “Now, tell me why you’ve come.”

“I am in need of advice.” Hanna bit her lower lip. She hoped she wasn’t overstepping. Although Leela was welcoming, Hanna did not know her well. During their childhood, Leela’s mother never brought her children—Leela and her brother, Alexander, the heir to the marquessate—to visit their mother’s side of the family. But Leela had recently sought out her Arab relatives and seemed keen on becoming better acquainted.

The duchess tucked her legs beneath her and laid an arm across the back edge of the sofa. “I don’t know what I’m qualified to advise you about, but I’m happy to try.”

“I am attending an event, a fundraiser for a hospital at the home of a viscount. I am hoping you can give me a few tips on etiquette. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“You could never make a fool of yourself.”

“I know you must be accustomed to society affairs. But I have never attended one. And it is very important that I make a favorable impression.”

Leela tilted her head. “Is there a particular someone you wish to impress?”

An image of Griff flashed in Hanna’s mind. “I am fighting for my professional survival.”

She was about to explain when a footman came in with tea and a food tray. To Hanna’s surprise, the duchess served her black tea Arabic-style, with mint and plenty of sugar. And an unexpected food was nestled among the delicate cakes and sandwiches.

“Is that za’atar menaeesh?”

“Indeed.” Leela reached for the freshly baked flatbread topped with a zesty thyme and olive oil mixture. “It’s one of my absolute favorites, so Cook learned to prepare it. Now, what is all this about fighting for your survival?”

“You might not be aware,” Hanna hesitated, bracing for the usual skepticism about her craft, “that I am a bonesetter.”

“I have heard.” Leela nodded encouragingly. “Citi says you are very good. That you learned from your father. I am sorry I never met him.”

Hanna’s mouth dropped open. “Citi told you that I am a gifted bonesetter?”

“Yes, but she also said it would be better if you married.”

“Now, that sounds more like Citi.” She grew more serious. “I am six-and-twenty, far too old to marry. All I want is to do my work.” She explained her current predicament, starting with the Mansfield incident at the coffeehouse.

“You purposely put out Mansfield’s wrist?” Amusement twinkled in Leela’s eyes.

“It isn’t a laughing matter. I lost my temper.” She told Leela about the commission that would decide her fate. “Now I could lose everything. That is why the event hosted by Lord Griffin—”

“Griffin?”

“Yes, do you know him?”

“Not terribly well, but he is a particular friend of my husband’s. Wait a moment.” Comprehension washed over her lovely face. “You are the bonesetter who cured the viscount’s war injury?”

Hanna felt a flush of pride. “Yes, that was me.”

“Hunt says it’s nothing short of a miracle.” Leela regarded her with amazement. “Lord Griffin suffered for years, and no physicians could provide him any relief.”

“His shoulder, elbow and wrist were all put out. I simply had to put them back in. It’s a skill most physicians are not trained in.”

“You must be extraordinarily talented.” Leela’s expression was thoughtful. “Have you formed an attachment to Lord Griffin?”

“Of course not. That would be the height of foolishness.” Hanna’s cheeks broiled. “He’s a viscount, and I am a bonesetter, the daughter of merchants. Besides, you know if I ever wed, my family expects me to marry an Arab. I don’t have the same freedom to choose a mate as you did. Your father was an English peer.”

“What would you choose if you had the freedom?”

“I have already chosen bonesetting. No man, Arab or English, will wed a woman who touches strange men on a regular basis. Practicing my craft is the life I’ve carved out for myself. But now the commission could stop me from treating patients.”

Leela’s expression hardened. “Payton is being a bully of the very worst sort. He’s a hamar. That donkey is used to getting his way without a care for any lives they ruin. Hunt and I must postpone our journey to Greece in order to attend Griff’s fundraiser and show our support.”

“Absolutely not.” Hanna firmed her lips. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You are not asking. I am offering. The next ship to Athens leaves in a few weeks. We could book passage then.”

“A few weeks! Absolutely not. Organizing such a journey requires months of planning. I won’t let you delay on my account.”

“You are very stubborn.”

“It must run in the family.” She relaxed back against the cushions, tea in hand. “Honestly, all I require is advice on how to comport myself. I am not accustomed to the manners of the ton. Members of the commission will be in attendance at the party. It is imperative that I make a favorable impression. My future is in their hands.”

Leela assessed her. “You already carry yourself like a princess. With the right dress and hair, you shall have them eating out of your hand.”

“My best dress will have to do.” She sipped sweet nana tea. “I don’t have any gowns worthy of a true ton party.”

“But I do. And you shall have your pick.”

Hanna’s mouth fell open. “Oh no!” She set her tea down. “I would never impose on your generosity.”

“That is what family is for. I have rather too many gowns, and you are in need of one. We’ll find just the right dress. Then my maid will alter it for you. Hasna is a magician with a needle.”

“Still, I don’t think—”

“Yalla. Let’s go.” Leela rose and reached for Hanna’s hand. “We’ve much work to do.”

Hanna came to her feet. Her cousin was a force of nature who swept you along by the sheer force of her considerable charisma. “Let’s go shopping in the chamber that holds my gowns.”

“You need an entire chamber for your gowns?” Hanna owned a total of six dresses, and they all fit easily in her wardrobe.

“For my ball gowns and other evening gowns. Naturally, my day dresses are in a separate chamber.”

“Naturally,” Hanna said before her cousin whisked her up the grand marble staircase.