Page 35 of Once a Scoundrel

Her chest ached hollow with misery. “But if I can’t? Do I marry him anyway when my heart is filled with doubts?”

“No,” her mother confirmed with a sigh, “you do not.”

She pulled away and sat back, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders against the chilly fall air. “Then I won’t marry him. And you and Papa can be assured that—”

A clatter went up from the stables, followed by the sounds of shouts and horse hooves on the gravel.

“What on earth...?” Her mother stood, and the two women hurried out of the garden toward the stables.

A messenger dismounted and tossed the reins to one of the stable boys. He exchanged words with a groom, who nodded, then answered by pointing at Faith and her mother. He strode toward them.

“Ma’am.” Removing his hat, he gave a nod to her mother, then one to her. “Miss. I’ve come from Elmhurst Park. I have an urgent message for the Marquess of Dunwich.”

Her mother stiffened. “I’m Katherine Westover, Duchess of Strathmore.

“Your Grace.” The man dropped into a belated bow.

“The marquess is one of our guests. What does this business regard?”

“One of his tenants has taken ill, ma’am. Mrs. Mary Halstead has come down with fever.”

Faith’s heart somersaulted with dread.

“Mrs. Olsen, our housekeeper, sent me to fetch him. If you could tell me, where might I find him?”

“I am afraid that the marquess left Hartsfield this morning for London,” her mother explained. “You’ll need to ride on to Dunwich House in Mayfair. Go inside the stables and talk to Masters, our head groom. Tell him that I have authorized you to be given a fresh horse and a sovereign for your trouble.” She paused to punctuate the importance of her order. “Ride through the night if you can. It’s urgent that you reach the marquess as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With a hurried bow, he strode inside the stables.

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Faith whispered around the knot tightening in her throat, “Fever?”

Her mother nodded, her lips pressing into a troubled line. “And it must be severe if Mrs. Olsen sent a messenger after Stephen.”

“What can we do?” Faith’s chest squeezed with equal parts sympathy and concern, not just for Mary but for Stephen as well. He already blamed himself for her situation. If she were ill, her life in danger...“He’ll be devastated if anything happens to her. We have to help.”

Mama shook her head. “I’ve sent the man on to London.”

“An entire day’s ride away!” If the messenger didn’t catch up with him along the road, two days would pass before Stephen would receive the message and reach Elmhurst. “It might be too late.”

“I know,” Mama whispered with a sense of helplessness, and Faith could see how it tore at her heart not to be able to do anything to help someone in need. “And with Elmhurst only a few hours away.”

“He could have ridden there and back in the time since he left this morning,” Faith finished, feeling the same helplessness as her mother. Worse, because she was also alarmed for Stephen.

“There’s nothing we can do,” her mother said quietly.

But Faith heard that tone in her voice, the one that said Mama wanted to be talked out of believing that. “We can go to Elmhurst ourselves and help her.”

Mama shook her head. “She’s not our concern,.”

“She matters to Stephen, so sheismy concern,” Faith countered. “You can help her, Mama. I know you can.”

She shook her head. “There will be a doctor at Elmhurst to attend her.”

“Only a country doctor, most likely,” Faith said carefully, knowing exactly where to strike to hit her mother’s heart. “Who knows what kind of superstitions he might believe in? He might even make her condition worse.”

Mama hesitated, uncertainly darkening her face.

“She has a child,” she barely breathed the words, afraid to utter her worst fears aloud. “If he should come down with the fever, as well? If he dies?”