O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,166

Do you have many neighbors?”

By the time Lord Turnsley finished a bottle of brandy and stumbled up the stairs, Etta’s head was pounding. The man never stopped talking and had given them quite an education of the ways of London society. The beau monde sounded as decadent and arrogant as her neighbor had warned.

“What do you think of him?” she asked Tia.

Her sister laughed. “He’s a jingle brain with enough tongue for two sets of teeth.”

“Oh, I believe he’s much more than that.” A Captain Shark, a tippler, and a Jack O’ Dandy with the devil playing in his pocket.

Lord help them.

Chapter Two

Mid-December 1813

London, England

“Congratulations. You now have an heir.” Gus held up his glass of cognac. “Mother and son are both doing well. I’ve given your five very anxious daughters strict orders to let them both rest tonight.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wharren, but I’m afraid they’ve already disobeyed. My wife wouldn’t deny them a look at their new little brother.” Nathaniel slapped his sibling on the back. “I must say it’s an advantage to have a physician in the family. Your education was worth every guinea. I may have inherited the earldom, but you, dear brother, have a skill I can only envy.”

It was late, and the room’s only light came from the hearth. The fire crackled and popped as he leaned an elbow against the mantel. “The midwife did most of the work. I didn’t get here until near the end.”

“Just in time. The woman was petrified to turn the babe. Thought she’d be held responsible if mother or son died.”

Gus nodded. “They often are.”

“If I’d lost her…” His brother ran a hand through his dark hair. Fatigue dulled his green eyes. His cravat had been discarded hours ago, leaving his rumpled linen shirt open at the chest. “Charlotte is my world.”

“I find more hopeless cases than happy ones in this profession.” Gus fell into the winged-back chair and soaked in the warmth of the flames. He retied his own shirt at the throat and rolled down his sleeves. “I wonder if I made the right choice.”

“What happened?” Nathaniel joined him and filled both glasses with more of the amber liquid. “Something in particular must have you in the dungeon.”

He let out a long, ragged sigh. “If I wanted to deal with so much death, I’d have joined the army.”

Augustus Wharren, fourth son of an earl, had wanted a profession that would improve people’s lot in life. At first, his clients came from all classes of society. The ton had made him wealthy, but their complaints were often so trivial he held back a laugh. So, he’d taken on pro bono work and took on cases in the rookeries. But the slums of London were often worse than the threat of death. After ten years, Gus still suffered deep depressions when he lost a patient. He wished to leave London and think about another future.

Money was no longer an issue. Besides his lucrative practice, his grandmother had recently left him a generous annual income and a property near the Scottish border.

“You’re a gentle soul, Gus. Perhaps the life of a country squire?” Nathaniel pursed his lips. “A sweet country girl, a stable of horses, some sheep, perhaps.”

“Sounds idyllic, but I need to do something. I’m not a gentleman of leisure.”

Nathaniel snorted. “I would never accuse you of that. Have you considered marriage? A discussion with Charlotte can ease my mind and my conscience.”

“She’s a rare woman. If I ever find one like her, I’d consider getting buckled.”

“Fair enough. Are you hungry? I’ll arrange for a cold repast.”

Gus nodded. “We need to discuss my move to Northumberland.”

“You still want to spend the winter in that drafty old mansion?” Nathaniel chuckled. “I swear our ancestors are still whispering in those dark, shadowy halls.”

“I always felt they watched over us when we visited Grandmama.”

“The portraits in the gallery.” Nathaniel shivered dramatically. “Those painted eyes seemed to follow us.”

Gus managed a laugh. “Perhaps they were. I’ll take a few months and get the place in order. It needs some work.”

“I hope you find your way.”

He held Nathaniel’s emerald gaze, so much like his own. The two could have been twins except for the eight years separating them. He would miss their talks. “I do too, Brother. I do too.”

Gus shrugged into his greatcoat and pulled on his leather gloves. It had taken him less than a week to refer his clients to another physician and shutter his practice for the time being. The