The Witches of Pitfeldry by Harriet Smart

Author:Harriet Smart [Smart, Harriet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anthemion
Published: 2019-12-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

Augusta agreed to see Felix. As Lord Rothborough had said, she was not comfortable. She was lying on her bed, her complexion pasty and her eyes red. Her little dogs were careering about the room restlessly, and began yapping at Felix’s heels.

“I think they need to go for a walk,” Felix said. “And some fresh air would help you, I think?”

“I can’t go out, I really can’t.”

“Have you eaten?”

She shook her head.

“You should try. Some broth and dry toast, perhaps.”

She made a face at that, and then sank back on her heap of pillows, gazing up at the bed canopy.

“You have a responsibility to your child, you know,” he said.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” she exclaimed, sitting up. “I would not let you in here if I did not know it.”

“Then you should at least attempt to take my advice,” he said.

“I might manage some toast,” she said.

“That would be wise,” he said. He fetched the tray from the table and set it on the bed beside her. She took a glass of barley water and some toast.

“There,” she said, when she had finished.

“You might go down to dinner. It’s often the case that pregnant women cannot eat all day, and then find that in the evening they can.”

She wiped her hands on her napkin and said, “Perhaps I shall attempt it. We shall see.”

“I think it would reassure everyone, if you did. Lord Rothborough is –”

She put up her hand to silence him.

“Yes, yes, I know how he is!” she said. “Really, you are impossible. I think I should be glad that you are not my proper brother. That would be intolerable!” Felix could not help smiling at that. “A second Papa, indeed, that would be something like it.” This train of thought seemed to revive her. “How very odd it must be for you: to be thinking always what might have been.”

“I don’t think of it much,” Felix said.

“But how can you not?” she said.

“Because it is only speculation. Besides, if things had been different, I would have been a different man.”

“But does it not irk you?” she said.

“It has been better for my character to have to make something of myself. I should not have been allowed to study medicine.”

“No, certainly you would not.”

“You sound as if you would not allow your son to do the same,” he ventured.

“No, and I have often wished you had not, you know, Carswell, at least until this week, when it has, I must concede, been useful. But I still think it is too servant-like a profession for a gentleman.”

“Given the burden of confidentiality,” Felix said, “would you not prefer we were all gentlemen? Or gentlewomen, perhaps? I’ve sometimes thought that I have no place in this branch of the profession. It would be better if women were allowed to train as well.”

“That is a horrible notion,” said Augusta. “That is the sort of thing Charlotte talks about.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Felix.

“What do you think of the Prince?” Augusta said.

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