Page 33 of A Daring Pursuit (The Clandestine Sapphire Society #2)

Six Months Later

S tonemare held the fresh strong scent of pine and evergreen as Noah made his way to the dining hall. He entered and found the whole of his family already seated and at different stages of breaking their fast.

A plate laden with kippers, bacon, and a gross amount of eggs sat before Julius. The latest copy of The London Times had Sander largely ignoring his own plate while Verda and Isabelle nibbled on slices of apples and pears.

The only persons missing were Docia, who’d left for London months ago, and Noah’s adorable wife, who’d vacated their bed hours ago. Shocking, as he’d kept her up long after midnight, tasting and savoring every inch of her delectable body. But, alas, he’d made true the vow of creating an office with space and light for her to work to her heart’s content. He’d chosen a large chamber in the west tower. One that could handle the tables required for all the newspapers and broadsheets her many cohorts sent to her that arrived daily.

He kept the fire tended to regularly in the event she dashed from their bed in the night with some urgent idea, as she’d explained in no uncertain terms, that must be taken down immediately “lest the sea steals the thought from my head never to return.”

Of course, Noah had wisely inclined his head at her haughty and bold edict. Such brilliance was not to be contained. He loved her as she was. If and when they were ever blessed with children, he suspected she would have no notion how to raise them. But such worries didn’t concern him.

He glanced at Julius attacking his eggs as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. Yes, Noah knew all about raising an infant.

“Coffee, sir?” Fletcher startled Noah from his musings.

“Thank you.” He took his seat at the table next to the empty chair.

“I don’t think Geneva eats enough, dear,” Verda said.

“She eats when she’s hungry, Aunt,” he said, silently agreeing. His coffee appeared along with Winfield, holding out a salver with two missives. Noah selected the one with his address. It was from Lucius.

The newspaper snapped. “Good God,” Sander said. “Listen to this:

‘ A Consideration of the Gentle Sex in the Field of Medicine

Most recently, this Sapphire was approached with a most curious and progressive notion. The idea that women might not only partake in the healing arts, but indeed excel therein. Such an assertion is sure to raise eyebrows among the more traditionally minded, but this ideal should be considered with earnest reflection: the manifold of the presence of lady physicians. Just think, dear readers, what a service of this nature could offer, particularly to the gentler sex.

Possessing, as women do, their natural tenderness and compassion would bring a degree of patience and attentiveness that is particularly beneficial in the care of the sick to the practice of medicine.

The lady physician, endowed with such qualities, would excel in the gentle arts of nursing and caregiving, fostering an environment conducive to her patient’s recovery.

’Tis unfortunate, however, that the path to becoming a physician is stacked with obstacles for women. The rigorous study of anatomy, the demands of clinical practice, and, mostly, the societal prejudices that persist against women in the learned professions. Yet should a lady succeed, the rewards for herself and for her patients would be considerable indeed.

In conclusion, it is this Sapphire’s belief that her presence in the medical field would prove a great advantage to the ladies of our society. With her unique perspective, compassionate nature, and the potential to ease the delicate sensibilities of her patients, the lady physician may well come to be regarded as an invaluable asset in the noble art of healing.

Yrs. One of the Clandestine Sapphire Society members .’”

Sander laid the newspaper aside and leveled a contemplative, accusatory eye on Noah. “Have you anything to say, son?”

Annoyance struck, with the quick lash of a performer’s whip. “I suppose it bears repeating, Uncle, that I am no longer a child of ten to speak to in that belittling manner.”

Isabelle snatched up the paper. She shoved her plate out of the way and smoothed it on the table, allowing Verda to share as they read the article through. A shimmer of excitement vibrated from his cousin.

Noah met the amused glint in Julius’s eyes and realized at once, his brother was aware of Geneva’s “clandestine” activities.

“I don’t know why you are so annoyed, darling,” Verda told Sander. “This is a wonderful article. This Sapphire, as she refers to herself, has the pulse of a nation influx.”

The doors opened and Geneva entered in one of her old frocks Noah was certain he’d ordered burned. “What the devil are you wearing?” he asked her.

All conversation came to an abrupt halt.

“That dress looks vaguely familiar,” Verda said. “I distinctly remember that brown shade. It hides dust remarkably well.”

“Ink stains as well,” Geneva said, taking her place at the table beside Noah. He would never tire of the burst of orange-blossom fragrance that assailed him with her presence.

Fletcher set a cup of coffee before her and Winfield reappeared with the salver, holding her missive.

“Oh, it’s from Abra.” Geneva broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. “Goodness. She and Baron Ruskin are to be wed. And, to celebrate, she is holding a musicale in March.” Her gaze lifted to Isabelle. “It says here she wishes to have you play.”

A hush fell over the hall. Then a scream worthy of an operatic aria from Isabelle filled the dining hall. “I must practice at once.” She shoved from the table and dashed from the room.

“Oh, dear,” Geneva said. “And it’s only September.”

*

Geneva followed her husband to the west tower into their new abode—the Painted Lady—and fell onto the settee, her eyes tired from the strain of her latest essay to send to Hannah on the lack of social justice due to the circumstances of one’s birth and gender. Such injustices and inequalities truly were abhorrent.

The settee jarred as Noah dropped beside her. He took her hand and used his thumb to stroke the base of her palm. “You woke early, Madame Sapphire.”

Her eyes snapped to his. “What?”

His eyes danced with mirth. “Clandestine Sapphire Society? Makes sense, I suppose. You couldn’t very well call yourselves the Secret Bluestocking Society.”

Brief silence ensued while she gathered her composure, firmly set her jaw back in place. “Er, no, we could not.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “Have you been going through my correspondence, sir?”

“Absolutely not. I’m not even ensuring the maids do their duty in keeping your study free of dust, despite doing my utmost to keep the fire burning. They are under strict orders to not touch a thing.”

“Then how did you know?”

“Your latest article regarding women in the medical field appeared in the Times . Sander read the whole of it just before you walked into the dining room.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all you have to say? ‘Oh’? By the way, Julius appears to know your secrets as well.”

“Yes, yes. I told him months ago. He was suitably shocked… and impressed,” she said, smiling at the recollection.

“You are a menace, Mrs. Oshea. Come here.” He granted her no choice in the matter, scooping her up and straddling her across his lap.

She cupped his jaw in her hands. Ink-stained hands. “Do you regret marrying a woman bent on challenging the established order?”

He drew those ink-stained fingers to his lips. “Never,” he whispered. His hand molded the base of her skull and pulled her to him. His breath heated her lips and the familiar fire ignited at her core.

She tugged up the bothersome skirts and wriggled against the hard length of him, wondering how she had ended up so fortunate in finding this remarkable, broad-minded man, whose love would sustain her throughout the course of eternity.

Within moments, the ugly yet serviceable gown was in shreds. The fire between them converged into an inferno as his hands framed her breasts, suckled her nipples, and surged his member into her. She held hard and fast to his shoulders, moaning. “Oh, Noah, what twist of fate blessed me with you?”

Stars shattered in the blackened skies behind her eyes in gold brilliance.

His climax exploded and his arms tightened around her, stealing the oxygen from her. “I’m the one Divine Providence smiled upon, love.” He panted against her dampened skin.

Geneva laid her head on his shoulder, breathing in the very essence that was now a part of her soul.

A comforting quiet fell over her. “You never said what the earl sent in his note. Is Meredith well?”

He bolted upright. “I cannot believe I let you distract me so.”

“Me!”

His manner had shifted to concern. Easing her to his side, he stood, then strode to a table near the door and picked up the missive.

Her stomach dipped, but she snatched it from his outheld hand and didn’t hesitate in reading it over.

Noah, Felicitations on your recent nuptials.

She raised a brow at Noah. “Recent? It’s been six months.” Shaking her head, she silently read on.

I have every confidence your new wife will keep you firmly in line. I should have written long before now. Apologies. I’ve no idea what Rathbourne was about, Noah. The man is a cur, to be sure. My wife was not with child as he’d so blatantly announced to one and all —

Geneva glanced up, glaring. “Insinuated? The duke without the slightest hesitation accused her of taking a lover other than her husband. Bah! Those of us who know Meredith know she would never step out on her husband, no matter how abhorrent he might be.” She dropped her gaze and continued.

I confronted her, naturally. And, naturally, we had a terrific row, as you can well imagine. But something dire is afoot, Noah, and Father was up to his neck in it, whatever “it” happens to be. Things are different than I initially believed, er, with my wife. Perhaps you and Miss Wimbley, er Mrs. Oshea would consider visiting. I could use your expertise and I’m certain Lady Pender would enjoy a visit with her friend .

The note went on regarding the horrid conditions of Perlsea Keep and the less-than-friendly nature Lucius was finding the Cornish natives.

“I do miss Meredith. She deserves better than Lord Pender.”

Noah returned with a non-committal tone. “You really think so?”

“Certainly. The way he hovered about Docia. Why, it was insulting to my friend, who is his countess .”

“He did mention things were not like he thought.”

A deep sense of longing stole through Geneva. “I would love to visit her. Perhaps when we go to London for Isabelle’s concert?”

“Of course. That is the perfect solution, my love. Will you search for your mother’s relations?”

Geneva’s stomach dropped at the thought and she didn’t answer for a long time. “No,” she said softly. “They tossed her to the curb for losing her heart. My mother was the most gentle person in the world. She didn’t deserve such treatment.”

His hand rubbed circles on her back and she leaned into it. “If you’re satisfied with that, love, then I am as well.”

She spun and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“You can’t possibly love me nearly as much as I love you,” he whispered against her lips.