Duke of a Gilded Age (33 page)

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Authors: S.G. Rogers

BOOK: Duke of a Gilded Age
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“I’m done.”

“Oh, dear. Perhaps we should’ve taken breakfast in your cabin.”

“I would have, but I didn’t want to bother Cavendish. After what he did for me last night, I thought he should be able to sleep in.”

“The man deserves a raise.”

The Stengers and Egermanns arrived just then, and clustered around his table with yet more questions. Lady Frederic intervened. “Wesley, why don’t you go check on Mr. Oakhurst? I’ll fill your friends in for you.”

Wesley gave his mother a grateful look, excused himself, and limped from the saloon. He made his way to Mr. Vane’s office, and was pleasantly surprised to discover Mr. Oakhurst was awake and propped up in bed. His right arm was in a sling, and his chest was heavily bandaged.

“Good morning, Mr. Oakhurst!” Wesley exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”

“As if I’ve been stomped on the chest by a bull elephant, thanks,” he replied. “Mr. Vane informs me, however, I was lucky. Since the bullet missed my lungs and vital organs, it could’ve been far worse.”

“I’m so relieved. Mr. Oakhurst, you pushed me out of harm’s way last night, and I can’t help but feel responsible for your injuries. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’d say I was just doing my job, but that wouldn’t be the entire truth. Annabelle and I have both grown quite fond of you.”

At that, Wesley’s throat closed up, and he had to clear it several times before he could speak. “Thank you, Mr. Oakhurst. I almost look upon you as a father.” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “If your daughter wasn’t already engaged, I would be in mind to pursue her.”

“If you’re asking for my blessing in that regard, you have it, but you’re fighting an uphill battle, I’m afraid.”

“Then you approve of her fiancé?”

“Not at all. The whole point of bringing Annabelle on this trip was to separate her from the man.”

“Is she that much in love with him?”

“No. I suspect her affection for Errol has waned considerably.”

“Well, then, I’ll convince her to end the engagement as soon as possible.”

“It won’t be easy. Annabelle has a high regard for keeping her word.”

“Nevertheless, I’ll do everything in my power as a gentleman to sway her opinion,” Wesley said.

“Best of luck, young man. Just between us, I hope you succeed.”

Mr. Vane strode into the room just then, carrying a tray with tea and toast.

“No visitors at present,” he said, glowering.

Wesley raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m leaving.” He gave Mr. Oakhurst one last smile. “I’ll let Annabelle know you are doing better.”

“Out,” Mr. Vane said.

Wesley slipped past the stewardess’s cabin to knock on Belle’s cabin door. Almost before he could put his hand down, she jerked the door open. Her red-rimmed eyes were wide and fearful.

“Your father’s all right,” he said quickly. “I just spoke with him.”

The frightened expression on her face eased slightly.

“The surgeon doesn’t believe any vital organs were damaged,” Wesley said.

Barefooted, Belle started forward into the empty corridor. “I must see him.”

Wesley caught her around the waist. “Not yet, Belle. Your father is resting comfortably and Mr. Vane does not want him disturbed. In fact, he threw me out.”

Belle’s muscles tensed, as if she wanted to argue.

“You don’t want to make things worse, do you?” Wesley asked.

Slowly, Belle shook her head from side to side. “I suppose not.”

Wesley helped her return to her darkened cabin, where she collapsed onto the bed like a rag doll. Worried, he snapped on the light and sat next to her. Belle’s hair had fallen from its careful arrangement, but hairpins were still entangled in the long brown strands. As gently as possible, Wesley took the pins out and put them on the dressing table. Belle’s hand crept into his.

“Thank you.”

He shivered with pleasure at her smooth, warm skin.
Now isn’t the time to dwell on her touch, Wesley!

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “It’s past breakfast, but I can order something sent to your cabin.”

Her head moved slightly.
No.
He sighed.

“How about a cup of tea?”

Again,
no
.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked.

“I’ve been too frightened.” Her voice sounded hoarse and raspy. “First I nearly lost you, and then my father. I can’t take much more.”

Her eyelids drooped.

“You’ve nothing else to fear,” Wesley said. “Perhaps you can rest now?”

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

His fingers smoothed her hair and stroked her brow. “I can do that.”

Under his ministrations, Belle managed to close her eyes. Wesley waited by her side until her hand relaxed in his. Even when her breathing became deep and regular, he didn’t leave right away for fear of waking her. The pulse on her neck was visible. As it fluttered, Wesley couldn’t imagine feeling more protective of anyone or anything. He watched her sleep for a little while longer, marveling at the angles of her face and sweet curve of her lips.
She’s like an exquisite orchid or a Calla lily…and I’m just a Yankee from Brooklyn.

A sigh escaped Belle’s lips. Wesley released her hand, turned off the light, and checked the corridor outside to make sure it was still empty. Unobserved, he left Belle’s cabin and closed the door as quietly as possible.
Sleep well, my love.

Cavendish looked up from his knitting as Wesley entered the deck cabin. Exhaustion was written on the valet’s face, but he gave his employer a smile nevertheless.

“Thank you for allowing me to sleep this morning,” he said. “I’m quite grateful.”

“We were all up late, worrying, but it seems Mr. Oakhurst has pulled through.” Wesley passed a weary hand over his eyes. “I remember how I felt after my father’s accident. I was stunned and scared out of my wits, but at least I had my mother. Belle has no one except for a grandfather who has never shown any interest in her.”

“Fortunately, Miss Oakhurst has very good friends.”

“I’m trying to do what I can.” Wesley studied Cavendish for a moment. “I never thanked you properly for intervening last night. That makes twice you’ve saved my life.”

“You’re quite welcome, Your Grace. I trust there won’t be any need for a third occasion?”

“Let’s hope not.”

Cavendish resumed his knitting while Wesley settled into a chair and put his ankle up on a footrest. With the steady click of knitting needles in the background, Wesley closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

A sound startled Belle awake, and she instinctively reached for Wesley. With a sense of disappointment, she realized he’d gone.
Did I only dream he was here?
When a knock sounded on the door again, fear clutched her heart.
Father!
She wrenched the door open to find Louise, Eva, and Stacy waiting in the corridor. Belle gripped the door in relief.

“I thought you were Mr. Vane with bad news,” she said.

Louise gave her an appraising look. “The only bad news is your appearance.”

“We’re here to help,” Eva added.

The three girls filed into Belle’s cabin.

“First off, I’m taking you down the hall to the bath,” Louise said. “You’ll feel a lot better when you’re clean.”

“While you’re bathing, we’ll tidy your room and lay out something fresh for you to wear,” Eva said.

“We’ve also ordered lunch sent down. You’re going to eat, Annabelle,” Stacy said, firmly. “You simply must.”

Belle allowed her friends to bathe her, wash and comb her hair, and dress her as if she were a doll. As Stacy promised, lunch was delivered to the cabin. While Louise, Eva, and Stacy ate and chatted about inconsequentialities, Belle managed to eat a few bites of chicken cutlets. Although she didn’t participate in the conversation overmuch, she appreciated the sense of normalcy the small talk imparted.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “You are all being so kind to me and I can’t figure out why, especially after I misled you so.”

“We
like
you, Annabelle,” Eva said. “We need no more reason than that.”

“Before you and Louise came along, Eva and I thought we’d pull our hair out with boredom,” Stacy said. “It’s you we should thank.”

“And I know why you mentioned your grandfather,” Louise said. “It was because I was carrying on and on about royalty, like an idiotic goose. You probably thought it would hush me up.”

“You can’t shield me from my transgression as easily as that, Louise,” Belle said. “But I thank you for the effort.” She gave her friend a hug.

“Before we forget, let’s do exchange addresses,” Eva said.

Belle passed around sheets of the ship’s stationery.

“Mama, Stephen, and I are staying at the Savoy Hotel while we’re in London,” Louise said as she scribbled her home address. “Do you know it, Annabelle?”

“I haven’t visited the Savoy, but I hear it’s a splendid hotel,” Belle said. “It was built by Richard D’Oyly Carte and opened just last year.”

“The Gilbert and Sullivan man?” Louise asked.

“The very same. I hope you will write to me,” Belle said.

“I hope I can do better than write,” Louise said. “I’d love to come visit you.”

“Stacy and I will come too, if we can find a way to slip out from under Grandmama’s nose,” Eva said.

“Wouldn’t that be splendid? Although someone will have to show me where Mansbury is on a map,” Stacy said.

“I’ll miss the three of you very much,” Belle said.

She embraced Louise, Eva, and Stacy in turn, and then her smile turned mischievous. “I wonder…should we have one last meeting of the dance club this afternoon? I promised to teach you the polka after all.”

Louise squealed with delight. “I was hoping you’d feel like going on with it. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. It will take my mind off my troubles, and the captain did offer us the saloon. We can’t insult him by refusing, can we?”

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