Page 77 of The Not So Perfect Duke

Doctor Stevenson held up his hand. When the excitement died down, he said, “It is good news, but the tumor should be removed in a timely manner. Miss Althea, you may have to use a cane for several months after the operation. And there is a slight chance you may have to use one for the rest of your life. But I doubt it will come to that. We will know more after. My guess is several months.”

A knot of disappointment settled inside her, and Althea struggled not to outwardly show it. Again, so many other people have had worse news than this.

“My Thea. The news is good. More than good. There is no cancer,” Damon urged.

He knew what she was thinking, and Damon was right. Relief washed over her, and she turned and threw her arms about Damon’s neck, and he held her close.

“All is well, my Thea,” he whispered.

“Doctor Stevenson, why not join us?” Christian asked. “I am sure there is enough food. Mrs. Bartle?”

The housekeeper dabbed the corner of her eye with the hem of her apron. “That there is. More than enough.”

The doctor placed his hat on his head. “The invitation is tempting, and I thank you. But I have other appointments tonight. Enjoy your dinner. The diagnosis is to be celebrated. I will be in touch soon.” Doctor Stevenson gave Althea a warm smile, then Mrs. Bartle escorted him to the front door.

“And celebrate it, we shall.” Christian stood and raised his glass. “To Althea, the best possible news. And to Sybil and Corbett, all the happiness for your future.” Everyone toasted.

“Now, Mrs. Bartle,” Eleanora said, coming from behind the table as soon as the housekeeper reappeared. “You are to join us for this meal. Sybil and I will assist in the serving. As you can see, there is an empty chair next to Archie. It is for you. We planned it that way.”

Mrs. Bartle looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Because you are part of the family, Susan,” Uncle Reece stated. “And have been for years, in case you didn’t know. The Galways are not the most outwardly demonstrative people, but we feel things deeply.”

“Why, Reece. You’re an old softie,” Mrs. Bartle laughed merrily. Althea had never heard her uncle and Mrs. Bartle refer to themselves by their first names. They must do so when alone.

Eleanora and Sybil followed the housekeeper into the kitchen, and soon everyone was served. Mrs. Bartle removed her apron and sat next to Archie. She gave the lad an affectionate smile and squeezed his hand. “Thank you for including me.”

“How could we not?” Althea replied. “We are all family.”

The meal was delicious, and everyone made short work of the food in between overlapping conversations and laughter. Afterward, Althea took Damon’s arm and walked to the front door, where she assisted him in slipping on his long coat.

“We are alone,” he murmured. Damon pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. “Until Friday night. We have much to discuss.” And with that, he opened the door and rushed to his waiting carriage.

“Embrace all life has to offer. If this complicated duke makes your heart beat faster, don’t deny your feelings. Live and love, Althea.”

Her uncle was correct on all fronts. It was time she tossed away any remaining doubts about Damon—and her feelings.

Live and love.

Chapter 23

The horses’ hooves clattered against the cobblestones as the carriage made its way toward Cleveland Street. Damon felt surprisingly calm, and his deep-seated ego must have caused this burst of confidence.

He had never eaten at the Savoy Hotel, let alone accompanied a woman to a meal. As he relayed to Althea, he usually ate alone at a pub or musical hall. This was a first.

The carriage pulled up in front of Althea’s house, and Damon waited until Dawson pulled down the metal steps. Damon exited the carriage and rang the bell, and mere moments later, the door opened, and a vision of loveliness stood before him. The copper and brown gown suited Althea perfectly, showcasing her beautiful dark brown hair and eyes.

“You are stunning, my Thea.” He took her arm and assisted her into the carriage. Then sat on the bench opposite.

“I hope I am not too overdressed for The Grill Room.” She laid a medium-sized case at her feet.

“Not at all. You will turn every head there, I promise you. Be prepared for a plethora of meat dishes, as it caters mostly to men. There is no fuss or frills. And the bar is equipped with female bartenders.”

“This sounds like a men’s club. Do they bring slabs of meat to the middle of the restaurant and grill it on large braziers?” Althea teased.

“How humorous. The place is frequented by theatergoers, different classes of folk alike, and men of business, so there is quite the eclectic mix. I thought you would thrive in such surroundings. Was I correct?”

Althea smiled. “Yes. Absolutely. I cannot abide formal dining, although I have only been to one, and I felt so out of place, regardless of who had accompanied me. Eleanora claims she will hold a formal dinner this Christmas, so I must brush up on the cutlery and goblet rules.”