Raven (Gentlemen of the Order 2) - Page 69

“I—I glanced out of the window when the rogue started singing and saw a figure at the entrance to the mews. I thought it was Bartholomew. I thought to come outside and confront him.”

She was lying. If she saw a figure, why was she so shocked to find them in the mews? No, the doctor must have seen them and sent Maud outside as a distraction.

Finlay turned to Sloane and D’Angelo. “I suspect the doctor has gone for a midnight stroll whilst we’re talking to Maud. One of you check Crook Lane, the other Upper Thames Street and see if you come across him on your travels. He’s thirty or thereabouts, six foot, brown wavy hair and a patrician nose.” And would be scurrying away like a rodent from the ratcatcher.

His colleagues nodded and set out in search of the medical man.

“So, you know damn well Mr Archer is in London!” Sophia’s temper flared. After years of worry and torment, who could blame her? “You must know of his plans. This is your fault. You’re to blame for Jessica’s accident. You’re to blame for ruining her life.”

“No, my lady! No!” Maud cried and grabbed hold of Sophia’s cloak. “Bartholomew came to an arrangement with your father. They used me for their own gain.”

“Used you?” Sophia batted Maud’s hand away. “My father? What has he to do with this?”

“I—I can explain if you’ll let me.”

This all began when Jessica found Archer tupping the maid. It was the first link in a long chain of events. “I suggest we return to Dr Goodwin’s abode. The truth is like a caged animal and must be set free.”

“Don’t blame the doctor,” Maud pleaded. “Bartholomew can be ruthless and cruel. He’s without conscience and forces everyone to do his bidding.”

But Sophia had the bit between her teeth. One question dominated her thoughts. “Tell me what this has to do with my father?”

This wasn’t a conversation to have in the street.

“Let’s go inside,” Finlay said.

The clip of booted footsteps on the cobblestones preceded the arrival of Sloane. “Is this the fellow?” He thrust the doctor forward whilst gripping the collar of the devil’s coat.

“Indeed.” Finlay grinned. “How strange to find you here, Goodwin, when you have so many needy patients in Godstow.”

The doctor struggled to hold Finlay’s gaze. “If you’re here, then you know I’ve not been to Godstow in years.”

“Just like we know Jessica isn’t ill,” Sophia countered. She hurried forward before Finlay could stop her and prodded Goodwin in the chest. “Just like we know you’ve been administering medicine to keep her subdued.”

Goodwin released an apologetic sigh. “Forgive me. I’m but a man trapped in a tangle of lies. Come inside, and I shall tell you everything.”

D’Angelo rejoined them, and the doctor led them into Number 4.

The house was dark, damp and dusty. No servants came to greet them, to take their outdoor apparel, or await instructions. And so they stripped off their hats and greatcoats and hung them on the coat stand. In the sparsely furnished drawing room, a fire flickered in the grate. Evidently, Maud planned to return after her trip to the mews.

The bolster cushions positioned on the rug near the hearth proved most interesting, as did the empty wine bottle and two glasses left on the floor. A glance at Maud’s gown revealed the absence of stays. Maud had dressed in a hurry. A fact D’Angelo would have noticed the moment the woman removed her cloak.

Anger surfaced.

Finlay should be making love to Sophia before a roaring fire, not chasing the blasted doctor around town.

Gratitude followed.

Because of this rogue’s wicked deeds, Finlay had visited Sophia at Blackborne and opened his heart to the possibility of rekindling their lost love.

While the doctor lit the lamps, D’Angelo picked up a silk stocking and handed it to Maud. “I believe this belongs to you, madam.”

Maud’s cheeks flushed, and she snatched the white hose from D’Angelo’s grasp.

The doctor scooped up the cushions and put them back on the sofa before inviting them to take a seat.

“Do you not employ servants?” Finlay asked, dropping onto the sofa next to Sophia. The usual thrum of awareness penetrated the fabric of his coat, seeped soul-deep.

“I find myself currently low on funds,” the doctor explained as he stoked the fire.

Tags: Adele Clee Gentlemen of the Order Historical
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