How to Heal the Marquess by Sally Forbes

Chapter Twenty-nine

 

“Hello, Uncle Ambrose,” Daisy said, sighing as she entered her uncle’s shop.

The apothecary appeared from an opening at the back of the store, his smile wide, but after one look at Daisy, his cheer wilted into mild concern.

“Daisy, dear,” he said, walking over to her and kissing her cheek. “You look positively exhausted. Are you all right?”

Daisy nodded, smiling sweetly at her uncle’s alarm.

“I am exhausted,” she admitted. “It has been five rather long days with Lord Berbrook. But besides being tired, I am quite fine.”

Ambrose nodded, appearing relieved.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “How is the duke doing? Your father told me he came very close to death several days ago.”

Daisy nodded, her stomach twisting as she recalled how certain she had been that the duke was, in fact, dying.

“He is slowly recovering,” she said tentatively, as though fearing that speaking the words would undo his progress. “Father has warned everyone not to get their hopes raised.”

Her uncle nodded thoughtfully.

“It is good news, indeed,” he said. “But I understand your father’s words of caution. You never can be too sure about these things.”

Daisy nodded, smiling sadly.

“I am on my way to Berbrook Manor just now,” she said. “I have just come by to pick up a few things first.”

Her uncle held up a finger and smiled. He motioned for her to follow him to the shop’s counter, where he began rummaging for something.

“I imagine that the marquess and dowager marchioness are cautiously optimistic,” he said.

Daisy’s heart fell at the mention of Lord Penwell. She had been trying to remain in good spirits, despite his engagement to Lady Selina. It had officially been announced in the London Times days ago, which meant he was as good as married to her. But along with concern for his grandfather, knowing that the marquess would soon be married made her heartache with heavy melancholy.

She took a deep breath and looked away from her uncle, pretending to be interested in a vial sitting on the countertop.

“Yes,” she said, praying she could trust her voice. “Their love for their family’s patriarch is very much apparent.”

Ambrose nodded, pulling a basket from beneath the counter at last.

“Here, my dear,” he said, holding out the basket to his niece proudly. “I have this already prepared for you.”

Daisy smiled, her heart lightening at the thoughtfulness of her uncle’s gift. Inside the basket, she could see lavender, feverfew, saffron, and a myriad of other herbs. She also spotted several oils and empty vials and bottles for use in her own experiments when she was not with him. She gently placed the basket on the counter before rushing around it and embracing the apothecary.

“Thank you, Uncle,” she said. “I love it!”

Ambrose chuckled, holding his niece tightly.

“I hoped you would, my dear,” he said. “It is my pleasure.” He pulled back from her, touching her chin softly. “Now, you should be off. I imagine Lord Berbrook and his family will be anxiously expecting you.”

Daisy nodded, bidding her uncle farewell and exiting the shop. She was grateful to her uncle for his gift. He had been very generous and helpful to both her and her father since they took on the care of Lord Berbrook.

He always offered his assistance whenever they tended to critically ill patients. But despite her gratitude, she could not help dreading her day at Berbrook Manor as the carriage rolled along. Not because she still feared for the duke’s health. She truly believed he would now survive his illness, even with a slow recovery. It was because of Lord Penwell.

Realistically, she had never considered it possible for her to marry the marquess. She knew that a man of his station would only seek to marry a woman of noble birth. And, while she herself came from a well-respected family in society, she held no claims to nobility.

Still, upon hearing the marquess tell his grandfather of his decision to marry a woman named Lady Selina, her heart had broken just the same.  And once the announcement of their engagement had appeared in the papers, her heart had become inconsolable. She sighed, cursing her foolishness.

She knew she should never have allowed herself to pay any special attention to Lord Penwell in the first place. She had tried to keep her focus on Lord Berbrook, but she had allowed herself to become attached to the marquess as well. Now, he was to marry another woman, which meant he had never seen her in the same way she saw him. Still, as her dream from the night before returned to her mind, the vice around her heart grew a little tighter.

In her dream, she was happily married. At first, there was no man present. Her marriage was made evident by the fact that she was holding a beautiful, tiny baby in her arms. The dream felt so real, she could recall feeling the baby’s small body moving around as she held it closely to her. She was smiling down at the child, marveling at how perfect and lovely it was.

Then, the door to the room she was in, a room she did not recognize but was lavishly decorated, opened, and in stepped a man. Though no words were exchanged and his face was in shadow, Daisy knew him to be her husband.

She turned her smile toward him, straining to see his face. At first, all she could see were his lips, which transformed into their own warm smile. He stood there for a moment, the two of them merely staring at one another.

Daisy’s heart felt full of joy, and she silently willed her mystery husband to come forward and kiss her. Slowly, the man began to approach the bed, where she and the baby lay. As he got closer, more of the shadows fell away from his face, and her excitement grew. When the light finally fully illuminated his face, she had to catch her breath. It was none other than Lord Penwell.

Just as with the dream itself, her recollection of it was abruptly interrupted. Unlike the dream, however, the memory was disrupted by the carriage coming to a halt. Daisy sighed as she exited the coach and gazed up at Berbrook Manor. It would forever be the place which held some of her fondest memories. However, it would also be the place in which her worst heartbreak had occurred.

Seeing to it that Lord Berbrook got well and returned to the healthy man he was before his sickness would bring her pride and gratitude. But in her mind, it would always combat the recollection of Lord Penwell announcing his intention to marry Lady Selina. 

It seemed as though the duke and his family had offered her many firsts of her life and of her career. A bittersweet ending to closing a patient’s case could now be counted among them.

With a sharp exhale, Daisy straightened her shoulders and approached the door of the manor with her usual bright smile. The butler greeted her in kind, warmly ushering her inside.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Daisy,” he said.

Daisy realized she would miss the butler as well as the family when she was no longer needed to care for the duke. She touched his arm gently, giving him a warm smile.

“It is wonderful to see you, too,” she said. “Is the duke ready for me to check in on him?”

The butler nodded knowingly.

“I believe he is,” he said with a strange sparkle in his eye.

Daisy nodded, puzzled, then allowed the butler to lead the way. She knew the way to the duke’s bedchambers well, of course, but she enjoyed exchanging small talk with the butler as they walked.

That day, however, he was oddly silent, and as he left her at the bedchamber door, she thought she saw a sly smile on his face. Shrugging, she entered the room, preparing a bright, chipper greeting for Lord Berbrook. However, the greeting died instantly on her lips.

She gasped, trying to process the sight before her. She had envisioned a few possible scenarios, but what her eyes took in was not one of them. She gasped and stared, temporarily unable to say a word. For a moment, she thought she was still at home, in bed and dreaming. But the ache in her chest indicating she was holding her breath told her she was very much awake. She let out her breath in a rush, and immediately, she spoke.

“Lord Berbrook,” she said, covering her mouth with her hands. “Look at you.”

The duke grinned boyishly at her, having no doubt noticed her utter shock when she entered the room. Though he did not immediately rise, he did not need to for her to see he was fully dressed in a crisp, dark-blue suit. His hair was neatly combed and styled, and in his hand, he held a tall hat. Daisy stepped toward him tentatively, as though she feared that any sudden movement would undo the absolute miracle she saw before her.

“Lord Berbrook,” she said again, joy slowly replacing the disbelief she felt. “Did you get yourself dressed?”

The duke chuckled, and the sound brought Daisy thrills of delight. It was rich and robust, every bit the laugh of a strong nobleman.

“I cannot boast such a victory yet, my dear,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I had a little help.”

Daisy instantly understood, and the butler’s strange behavior suddenly made complete sense to her. Lord Berbrook had asked the butler to help him dress and then to allow him to surprise her with his changed appearance when she arrived. She laughed merrily, putting her hands over her heart and letting her happiness shine in her expression.

“Well, it does my heart a great deal of good to see you looking so much like your old self,” she said.

The duke at last rose, albeit slowly, and only a single step away from his chair. He reached for her hands, which she gladly gave to him, and he pulled her into an embrace that was as strong as his laughter.

“I knew it would, my dear,” he said softly, sincere emotion clear in his voice. “It is the least that I could do for you, for working so hard and diligently to save my life.”

Daisy pulled back from the duke, tears of joy filling her eyes. She laughed again and shook her head, stepping back to examine him and ensure once more that her eyes did not deceive her.

“You certainly seem to be on the downhill side of on the mend,” she said. “But what made you want to dress up as though for a party?”

The duke looked at her with mock horror. He put his hand on his chest and gasped, as she had earlier.

“You did not think I would forget about that walk in the rose garden you promised me, did you?” he asked.

Daisy bit her lip and thought for a moment. Then, she giggled.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “It seems that I am the one who forgot when you took such a sudden bad turn.”

The duke’s expression returned to one of warm affection, and he nodded.

“Of course, my dear,” he said. “But, as you can see, I am well and strong and eager to take you up on the offer of our walk.”

Daisy laughed again and shook her head.

“I believe every bit of it,” she said. “However, we must be absolutely sure that you are well enough to venture outside. We cannot afford another bad spell.”

The duke grinned smugly, walking confidently from his chair to his bed.

“What better way to be sure than to examine me, Dr. Daisy,” he said.

Daisy giggled as she prepared for the examination. First, she placed her hand gently against the duke’s forehead and took a close look at his eyes. He was completely fever-free, and his eyes were no longer dull and faded. In fact, they were bright and sparkling, like those of a strapping young man.

She then noticed his cheeks, and she could not help shaking her head in wonder. Not only did they have plenty of the right shade of pink in them but, just since the night before, they seemed fuller and healthier. She took a step back and looked at his face altogether, and she was overcome with emotion. He was, indeed, at last recovering as he should.

“Oh, Lord Berbrook,” she said, tears spilling from her eyes as she silently thanked the heavens. “I do believe that you are ready for some fresh air today, after all.”

The duke reached for her hands once more and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“It is all because of you that I am here today, Daisy,” he said, his voice cracking, but with emotion this time, rather than sickness. “I would not be alive if it were not for you, and you can rest well assured that I shan’t forget that. You have become part of the family, as far as I am concerned, and I want you to know that you are always welcome to call in here at Berbrook Manor. Always.”

Daisy’s heart overflowed just then, and she laughed through her tears. She embraced the duke again, feeling his own tears against her ear. When she pulled away this time, she wiped his cheeks, rather than her own.

“You do not know how honored I am to receive such kindness,” she said. “I am well and truly humbled, Lord Berbrook.”

The duke shook his head, giving her a fond smile.

“Daisy, dear,” he said. “I insist you call me Bertram.”