The Viscount Made Me Do It by Diana Quincy

Hanna watched helplessly as the blaze spread until it engulfed the entire three-story building.

The residents in the upper apartments had gotten out. But there was no sign of Griff or Rafi. Smoke billowed from the building in thick gray-black clouds. Flames shot out of the windows. Heat radiated from its walls.

Panic welled up inside Hanna, tears gathering in her eyes. How could anyone survive the inferno?

“There they are!” Lucy shouted as Griff emerged, half-dragging, half-carrying Rafi’s limp body. Hanna raced over to them.

“Rafi.” Hanna sank to her knees by her brother. His eyes were closed, his face covered in soot. “Can you hear me?”

Rafi’s eyelids fluttered. “Yalla,” he croaked. “Let’s go home.”

Her laugh came out as a sob of relief. Griff and Rafi were both safe.

“Yalla,” she repeated, tears blurring her vision. “Let’s go home.”

“How is he?” Griff asked Hanna as she closed the door to her brother’s bedchamber an hour later.

“The physician is examining him now.” She appeared utterly exhausted. Although she’d wiped her face, black streaks smeared her chin and by her ear. She’d carelessly pulled most of her hair into a low bun, but some strands fell liberally about her cheeks. There were dark smudges under her eyes. Still, she was the most sublime sight he’d ever beheld.

Hanna gave him a grateful look. “Thank you for sending the Duke of Huntington’s personal doctor.”

“I could hardly send my own. Come and sit.” He guided her to the narrow set of stairs that he assumed led to an attic. “You look as if you’re about to fall over.”

She sank onto the stairs. “It has been quite a day.”

“I am sorry about the loss of the dispensary. I know how important it was to you.”

“I can always return to Papa’s office.”

“I am rather fond of your father’s office. It reminds me of the first time we met. Your fierce competence seduced me in the first five minutes.”

“You didn’t show it. All I saw was your disdain.” She scrubbed a hand down her face. “I am disappointed about the dispensary. But we are alive. You, me and Rafi.” She swiped away a tear. “When you vanished into that building, I thought you weren’t coming out.”

“It would take more than a fire and murderous cousin to keep me from returning your brother to you.” He settled next to her. It was a tight squeeze. They were hip to hip, his body heat intermingling with hers. “Did Norman hurt you?”

“No.” She managed a sly smile that flooded him with warmth. “I hurt him. I dislocated his shoulder before he could . . . do whatever it was he intended to do to me.”

Griff guffawed. “Norman never did realize he was no match for you.”

“He admitted it all, you know, about your parents.”

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. She took his hand. He held on to her, accepting the strength and comfort she offered, despite everything she’d been through. “Tell me.”

“Your father confronted Dr. Pratt about selling corpses to St. Thomas’s. Dr. Pratt begged your father to meet him at Ashby to discuss the matter. But Dr. Pratt never went. He sent Fred Palk to Ashby instead.”

“So that much was true. Fred Palk did kill my parents.”

“Yes. And he did not get in through the door you left unlocked. Dr. Pratt told him about a faulty window.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.” She squeezed his arm. “Truly.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” All of these years, the guilt had been a vise clamped hard around his chest. At last, Griff could draw a full breath.

“Norman keeping me away from my sisters makes perfect sense now,” Griff said. “They were determined to find my parents’ killer, while Norman discouraged me from dwelling on the murders.”

“He must have been afraid of what you would find. Dr. Pratt knew the search would lead straight back to him.”

Memories of Griff’s interactions with Norman came flooding back. “Norman consistently pushed for me to use laudanum to ease the pain in my shoulder. Now I wonder if he did that in hopes of rendering me insensible.”

“I can certainly see Dr. Pratt wanting to keep you dependent on him.”

“But why did Norman go after you this evening?”

“He felt I’d come between the two of you. He also believed he could curry favor with Mansfield and his father by doing away with me.”

“Norman was truly mad.” He knuckled his burning eyes. “How did I never see it?”

“Your father grew up with Dr. Pratt, and he didn’t see it. He was the head physician at one of London’s largest charity hospitals, and no one on the board saw through him.”

“If he had hurt you, I don’t know what I would have done.” He stroked her hand. “Thank goodness I decided to come and see you at the dispensary. I wanted to talk after everything we learned today. I cannot even begin to contemplate a world without you in it.”

Norman was gone. His sisters were back. The mystery of who killed his parents was solved. But the overwhelming emotion in Griff at the moment was profound gratitude that he hadn’t lost Hanna on this night.

He could not bear the thought of ever being deprived of her company again.

“Oh, Griff.” She leaned into him. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “What are we going to do?”

“We will figure it out,” he said resolutely. “I promise.”

“Griffin.” Selina poured her chocolate. “You are unfashionably early. What is so dire that you saw fit to interrupt my morning meal?”

Griff burst in on Selina having breakfast in her private upstairs sitting room. He couldn’t wait a moment longer to put everything to rights—which started here with his old friend.

“I apologize for the intrusion but I could not rest until we settle matters between us.”

Interest blazed in her clear blue eyes. “We agreed not to see each other for six weeks.”

“Actually, we did not. You set those terms. But I did agree to abide by them.”

“What has changed?”

“Everything.” He joined her at the table.

“It is just as well that you are here.” She buttered her toast. “I have made my decision. I will not marry you.”

He stopped short. “Excuse me?”

“I already married one man I didn’t love. I am not keen to make the same decision a second time.” She sipped her chocolate. “That would be boring, don’t you think? And I hate to be boring.”

“Why do I get the distinct impression that you never intended to marry me?”

“You are so stubborn that I insisted on the six-week period to give you enough time to recover your senses.”

“But what if I had still insisted on marrying you after the six weeks?”

“I would have turned you down flat. The first time I obeyed my parents and married to gain a title and wealth.” She set her cup down. “Now that I have both, if I marry again, it will be for love.”

“But you do care for me.”

“Of course. But we love each other as friends. Not lovers.” She picked up her toast. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you are here.”

“I needed to hear your decision.”

“Now that you have, you can pursue your interest in the bonesetter.” She took a bite of toast.

He gaped at her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Perhaps only to your oldest and dearest friends.”

“There was a fire at her dispensary last night. I almost lost her.”

Concern lined her delicate brow. “Is she well?”

“Yes, but her brother was hurt.”

Selina stopped chewing. “Rafi? Erm . . . Mr. Zaydan? What happened?”

“He went in to save his sister but was knocked down by some falling debris. Fortunately, I managed to get him out of the building. He’s going to be fine.”

“That is fortunate.” Selina resumed chewing.

He eased back in his seat, pleased to have Selina returned to him as a friend and confidante rather than a potential wife. “Aren’t you going to tell me what a fool I am for wanting to wed a bonesetter from a family of Arab merchants?”

“Not at all.” She delicately dabbed at the corner of her bow-shaped mouth with a white linen napkin. “I can see the appeal.”

“Last evening, there were a few moments there when I thought I might die. It made me realize what a fool I’ve been not to fight for a future with Hanna. Even though she still might not have me.”

“You’re a viscount. I doubt it will be much of a battle to win your beloved’s favor. Especially now that I am out of the running as a potential bride.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

“It is not every day that a girl in her circumstances is pursued by a wealthy, young and tolerably handsome viscount.”

“Her family does not approve.” He toyed with the silverware on the table. “They want her to marry one of her own kind, an Arab from her community.”

She laughed out loud.

“What is so amusing?”

“That a merchant family would consider you not good enough for their daughter. Meanwhile, fashionable society believes all of London revolves around us.”

“It never occurred to me, before Hanna enlightened me, that her family would be against the match.”

“It is always amusing to see a peer brought down to size. What a rarity.”

He snorted. “You really are enjoying this far too much.”

“Is that possible?”

“Aside from her family, Hanna herself has repeatedly said she never intends to wed. She is devoted to being a bonesetter. But I have reason to believe her position on the subject of marriage might be softening.”

Selina sipped her chocolate. “Do tell, how exactly do you intend to win the woman?”

The idea had come to him that morning. “I will make her an offer that she cannot refuse.”

“How intriguing.”

He came to his feet. It was time to set his plan in motion. “I hope Hanna thinks so, too.”

After the doctor departed just before dawn, Hanna returned to her room to sleep for a few hours. When she woke, it was late morning. She dressed and went directly to check on Rafi.

She found him propped up on a pillow, bare-chested with the white bedclothes tucked neatly around his waist. Lucy had planted herself at his bedside to feed Rafi spoons full of freekeh, a chicken broth-based soup made with cracked green wheat that Citi firmly believed cured all ailments. Since freekeh was delicious, Hanna and her siblings embraced the remedy.

While spooning out soup, Lucy’s starry-eyed gaze drifted over Rafi’s bare chest. He was slender, too slender, but that didn’t keep Lucy from admiring his wiry form.

“I see Lucy is taking good care of you,” she remarked.

“The best.” Rafi winked good-naturedly at Lucy. “That’s enough soup. Thank you.”

“Are you sure, sir? There’s more.” The girl did not hide her disappointment at being dismissed in the midst of enjoying the view.

“I’m certain.”

Lucy dawdled as she reluctantly rose and left the room, soup bowl in hand. Hanna took the chair by Rafi’s bedside.

“You look good.”

“That’s what all the girls say.” His voice was hoarse.

“I see your ego wasn’t injured.”

He laughed. The sound was raw. “I am sorry about your dispensary.”

Hanna swallowed against the rough feeling in her throat. “I’m grateful we’re all alive.”

“Still, you worked so hard, and the dispensary was only open for a few weeks before it burned down.”

“It does feel unfair. Especially after the commission ruled that I could keep the clinic open. But it cannot be helped.” The enormity of that part of her loss was just beginning to sink in. “I can always go back to seeing patients in Baba’s office.” But that felt like such a setback after the heady feeling of running her own dispensary.

“Your viscount was here.”

She nodded. “Yes, last evening. He sent the Duke of Huntington’s doctor to tend to you.”

“He was also here not long ago.”

“Griff was? Here? Today?”

“He left about an hour ago.”

She felt a rush of disappointment at having missed Griff’s visit. “That was good of him to check up on you.”

“He was obviously disappointed not to see you.”

“He saved your life, you know.”

“I am aware. He left a note for you.”

“Griff did? Where?”

“It’s on the dresser.”

“I see.” Hanna forced herself not to bolt across the room to read Griff’s message. “How are you feeling, really?”

“I am fine. I need to rest. Now you can stop pretending you are not dying to see what’s in the note.”

“I’m not dying.” She jumped up. “But I am eager to read it.” She unfolded the paper and read Griff’s note. “He wants me to meet him at the hospital in an hour.”

“For what?” Rafi asked, but the knowing expression on his face suggested he knew exactly what was going on.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“What did I say?”

“Nothing. But that smug expression on your face says it all.”

“Go on, then. Go see your viscount.”

She left him and, on her way out to meet Griff, stopped by the front salon.

“How is your brother?” Citi asked. The early-afternoon light filtered into the room.

“He just finished eating your freekeh soup, so he’ll be dancing the dabke in no time.” Hanna took the seat nearest to her grandmother. Her thoughts were all over the place. The fire had shaken up her perspective on the world. She found herself considering options she would never have entertained before the blaze. Very impractical options.

“The doctor said Rafi will recover fully,” she told her grandmother. “He just needs to rest.”

“Yes.” Citi sucked on her hookah, relief etched in her face. “Thanks be to God.” She peered at Hanna. “You don’t look good.” Citi was always honest.

“I only slept for a few hours. I was up all night with Rafi and the doctor.”

“The hayee is dead?”

“The snake? Oh, you mean Dr. Pratt. Yes, I suppose.”

“Your ajnabi saved Rafi.”

Hanna nodded, her throat swelling. She’d never forget the sight of Griff pulling her brother from the building. She’d also never forget the abject fear she felt when she thought she might never see Griff again.

“About the viscount,” she began. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Citi.”

“Then don’t,” Citi said in Arabic. Having deep and meaningful talks were not Citi’s way. They embarrassed her. As did any show of emotion.

“I’ve begun to reconsider things in my life, the choices I’ve made. Or will make.”

Citidid not ask Hanna what she meant, but Hanna saw understanding flicker in the old woman’s face. She stared at her granddaughter for what seemed to be a long time.

Finally, the old woman shrugged. “Indari,Citi. I don’t know. I am an old woman. In my time, we girls did what our family asked of us.”

“Lord Griffin is the reason Rafi didn’t die in that fire.”

“When someone saves your loved one’s life, he becomes like family. We owe him.” Citi took a long inhale on her hookah. “And you are very old. Much too old to marry a nice Arab boy. Or anyone else. Probably no one else will have you.”

Hanna’s lips quirked. “I’m sure you have the right of it.”

“When I am dead, and your mother is gone, and your brothers are married with families of their own, it is better for you to have someone.”

She rose and went to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Hanna found Griff’s valet waiting for her when she arrived at Margate.

“Good afternoon, miss. If you’ll come this way.” Felix led her to a section of the hospital on the ground floor that she’d never visited before.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they rounded a corner down a short corridor.

“His lordship is waiting for you.” He stopped before a closed door and pushed it open. “Enjoy, miss,” he added before walking away, leaving her standing alone.

She ventured inside to find a vast space, mostly empty except for a few scattered chairs. Like the wards she’d visited at Margate, this room possessed large windows and a hearth that was being lit by someone with a familiar face.

“Mr. Bartlow.” She recognized the hospital worker who’d told them about the body snatchers and St. Thomas’s. “What are you doing here?”

“G’day, miss.” The older man straightened up. He wore clean clothing and had clearly bathed since she last saw him. “I’m working fer ’is lordship. That toff is like ’is Da. Looks after people who are beneath him.”

“What sort of work will you be doing for him?”

He grinned, baring a smile that included several missing teeth. “I cannot say, miss. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Cannot say?” She watched him exit the room. “Why not?”

He smirked a little as he quietly closed the door behind him.

“Griff?” she called out, the sound echoing off the walls.

“In here.” She followed his voice until she found him standing before a closed door. Her nerve endings tingled. He was freshly bathed, clad in a navy tailcoat of superfine wool with brass buttons and pale formfitting pantaloons.

“What was Mr. Bartlow doing here? He says he works for you. For that matter, why are we here?”

He grinned and pushed the door open. “See for yourself.”

She went in. It was an office, freshly painted in the palest green, with a commanding mahogany desk and generous stone-colored window frame. A comfortable chair was by the window and a vase brimming with sunny fresh flowers adorned the side table. Hanna’s gaze went to a drawing of a skeletal figure on the wall behind the desk.

Her eyes rounded. “It’s the Bidloo.” The one she’d so admired in the private collection Griff had taken her to see.

She spun around to face him. “What’s it doing here?”

Behind him, in the corner she spotted a familiar, life-size sculpture that took her breath away. It was the piece she’d appreciated most from the collection. The left half of the woman’s body was a full-color wax skeleton, including muscles and ligaments. The other half was a living woman dressed in fine clothing.

“You remember her?” he asked. “You used her to show me the muscles and joints in my shoulder.”

“Of course I remember her. She’s magnificent.”

He grimaced. “Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. In any case, I hope to have many more hands-on anatomy lessons in my future. Both pieces are yours.”

Her eyes rounded. “They’re for me?”

“Who else? I certainly don’t want them. They’d give me nightmares if I had to stare at them all of the time.”

“I cannot accept such expensive gifts from you.”

“They are part of my wedding gift to you.”

“Wedding gift?”

“If you agree to be my wife, of course. I’ve already spoken to your brother.”

“Wait. What?” She struggled to keep up with the conversation. “You asked Rafi for permission to wed me?”

“Apparently my dragging him out of a burning building softened his stance on the subject. He said any man who would run into an inferno to please a woman should probably be allowed to wed her.”

“Thank you for saving him.”

“And then I had to face your grandmother.”

She winced. “You talked to Citi?”

He nodded. “I believe she said something about you being far too old for any other man to want. Arab or otherwise.” His steel-blue eyes sparkled. “She also intimated that I am a fool to marry a twenty-six-year-old woman when there are plenty of eighteen-year-olds to be had.”

“That sounds like Citi.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If this is a proposal, it’s not exactly the most romantic one I’ve ever heard.”

“You are a practical woman. I thought you’d appreciate a practical proposal.”

“Very well. Let’s address the realities of our situation. I am a bonesetter. Even if my family will grudgingly accept you, your world will never accept me.”

“My world didn’t even accept me until about a week ago. I am well accustomed to being an outcast. I don’t care about fashionable society. I never have.”

“But I don’t even know what a viscountess does. All I know is how to be a bonesetter.”

“And the best one in all of London, at that.”

“So where does that leave us?”

He took her hand and led her to the office door. “Right here.”

She stared at the engraved nameplate affixed to the wood that she hadn’t noticed at first. “What is going on? Why is my name on this door?”

Griff seemed terribly pleased with himself. “Because this is your office.” He strode out to the empty larger space and spread his arms wide. “All of this is yours.”

“What are you talking about? Has the smoke from the fire affected your mind?”

“The fire cleared my mind. And because of that, you are now standing in the middle of what will soon be Margate Hospital’s new dispensary for the treatment of outpatients.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

“Which will be run by you and”—he rolled his eyes—“Bridges, if you so desire. I’ve engaged Bartlow to help keep the place clean, run errands, that sort of thing. He’s familiar with the inner workings of the hospital and could be an asset to you. However, if you’d rather choose your own staff, I’ll find something for Bartlow to do at Haven House.”

“No, it’s fine for him to work here. But the board of governors will never allow me to open a dispensary here.” It was an impossible dream.

“That’s where you are wrong. I’ve already spoken with Brandon. With the two of us in agreement on this project, the rest of the board will go along. Naturally, we shall engage a new lead physician who agrees with our vision for Margate.”

She surveyed the chamber, already imagining where the examining tables would go. “You want me to marry you and run a dispensary out of this space?”

He stepped closer, his loving gaze intent on her face. “I don’t care whether you choose to call yourself Lady Griffin or Lady Bonesetter. As long as I can call you mine, I shall be the happiest man in the world.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Griff.”

“Will you make me the happiest man alive? When I thought I’d lost you, I was in anguish. But more than that, I was angry and furious at myself for wasting time. For even considering letting you go.”

“I felt the same.”

“You healed me. Not just my shoulder. But my heart. You were instrumental in returning me to my home, my sisters, my obligations. I was stumbling around in the dark up until that moment I first saw you in the coffeehouse.”

“Do you truly think we can do this?”

“If I get out of line, you can always dislocate something on me.”

“Never.” She went to him. “I couldn’t hurt you.”

His strong arms closed around her. Their mouths met in a hungry yet tender kiss. “Say yes,” he whispered in her ear. “Please. Don’t ever leave me.”

His humid breath tickled her ear and warmed her blood. “Yes. Oh, yes. I will stay with you. Forever.”

“Thank you.” His voice was full of relief. She felt his muscles relax. She tightened her arms around him, savoring his strength and warmth. Their embrace connected them from their chests, her breasts flat against his hard chest, all the way to their hips, where she could feel his erection pressing into her.

“Now, I’d like to go straight to that anatomy lesson.” He kissed her as he walked her backward into the office and kicked the door shut behind them. “A very long, very slow and very leisurely anatomy lesson where we explore all of the important parts.”

“Right here?” she said against his lips.

“Why not? There’s the desk.” He swung her up in his arms. “And we already know how to make excellent use of desks.”

“We’re in the middle of a hospital full of people,” she said breathlessly as he laid her on the hard, cool surface. His warm hand slid under her skirts, feathering up her thigh. She shivered, goose bumps rising all over her skin. “What if someone walks in on us?”

He kissed her long and slow. “Just tell them the viscount made you do it.”