Page 55 of The Not So Perfect Duke

“It very well could. However, the cyst could be pressing against bone and nerve tissue, causing you to become unsteady. I would like to have another doctor look at it. If that is agreeable.”

An alarm bell began to peal deep inside Damon. “What kind of doctor?” he asked warily.

“One who specializes in growths on bone.”

“First, it is a cyst; now it’s a growth. Come, Buchanan, speak plainly. What do you suspect?” Damon demanded.

“Yes, Corbett; what about his specialty?” Althea interjected.

“He specializes in—tumors.”

* * *

Althea’s blood ran cold.

Tumor.

No one wanted to hear that word—especially after her father’s cancer diagnosis. Tumors were often malignant. They spread and leeched the very life from a person until death mercifully took them. As it had her strong, vibrant father.

A buzzing sound took hold in her head, blocking out the voices. A few words drifted through her hearing, like ‘most likely benign’ and ‘must rule it out,’ but otherwise, Althea became lost in a fog. Mustn’t think the worst. But how could she not?

“Althea!”

She started and stared in the direction of the worried voice.

Damon.

He had mentioned months ago that she should see about her stumbling. Why didn’t she listen? Because she could not stand any man telling her what to do? Or because it came from him, an arrogant peer? He didn’t look arrogant now. Damon displayed genuine concern for her. How wrong she had been about him. In so many ways.

“Yes. Bring the doctor tomorrow at Cleveland Street if he’s available. I want Eleanora and Christian to be there. And Sybil.” Her voice sounded flat to her own ears. Althea was stunned, absolutely numb.

“I believe we should leave immediately,” Damon said.

“First, see about Chloe. The poor child took quite a tumble,” Althea said.

Corbett retrieved her boot and handed it to Damon. “I will examine the child and tell the driver we will depart shortly thereafter.”

She was left alone with Damon.

He got down on one knee and slipped on her boot, slowly buttoning it. “So, you do not want me there tomorrow,” he said low enough that only she could hear.

“Just my family.”

“I care about your well-being as much as your family. More so, even.”

Tears welled in her eyes at his serious but heartfelt tone. “It’s probably nothing. There is no need to concern yourself.”

Damon glanced up at her, and Althea could see the shutters come down as he deftly tucked away his emotions. “So be it. We had best depart.” Damon stood. “Take my arm, and I will escort you to the carriage.”

“I can walk to it myself,” she muttered stubbornly.

Oh, why was she acting this way? Althea had no explanation except shock and obstinacy.

Once in the carriage, they were off. No one spoke the entire way to Cleveland Street. Once they arrived, Corbett helped her down.

“I will make arrangements and send word as to the time. Hopefully, Doctor Stevenson will be available,” Corbett said gently.

Althea nodded.