Page 4 of A Touch of Charm (Miracles on Harley Street #3)

London, later that night…

I t was nearly two o’clock when the carriage finally pulled up before the practice when Andre hopped off, his boots landing softly on the cobblestones. Harley Street was dark, and the lights inside the other white houses in Marylebone were off. He approached the driver, whose arm hung at an awkward angle. Stan gave Andre a nod; he’d escort Thea and Mary inside, so Andre could tend to the driver.

“I’d like to take a better look at you now,” Andre said, his tone firm but kind. He offered the man a supportive arm and guided him toward the door of 87 Harley Street, where his practice was located.

The house, usually bustling with activity, stood oddly silent tonight. The others were still at the wedding, leaving Andre as the sole occupant of the practice. He unlocked the door and flicked on the gas lights, the warm glow casting familiar shadows in the hallway.

Leading the injured driver past the door marked Apothecary, Andre paused at the second door on the right. He turned on the light and helped the man onto the examination table.

“Stay here. I’ll get something to clean your wounds,” Andre said, his voice steady despite the unusual quiet around them. The practice was usually bustling with activity.

He stepped into the hallway and froze. Stan stood there, having already brought in the luggage, and beside him was Thea, cradling the sleeping little girl in her arms. The unexpected sight tugged at something deep within him.

“I need to tend to him.” Andre’s upbringing required that he’d set the table and be a perfect host but his impulse was to tend to the injured driver.

“I’ll take the horses to the back.”

“You’ll what?” Thea asked Stan with a quirked brow.

“I can do it later,” Andre said. It really wasn’t a job for a prince.

“No. It’s different here, Thea. Everyone’s the same and pulls their weight.” With these words, Stan went back outside.

“He’s good with horses, don’t worry. I just never expected him to show it—” Thea said with a smile as she shifted under the girl’s weight in her arms. They were an odd sibling pair, not at all haughty or arrogant like many aristocrats of Andre’s acquaintance. They were nice.

Well, Thea was more than nice, and Andre had tried not to dwell on that thought for the last two hours in the carriage. He hadn’t dwelled on her faint violet scent, the shimmering light of the moon, and the orange glow of the lantern reflected in her curly blonde hair. No, he didn’t dwell on any of those aspects, not even the slight bobbing of her chest— No! None of it.

She was a princess. Stan’s sister.

“Here, let’s bring the child to Wendy’s old room. She can sleep there. There’s a connecting door to Nick’s room, where you can sleep.” Andre closed the distance to Thea and bent over her to lift the girl out of her arms. “Nick’s the oculist here but remained at the wedding ball. Wendy is the nurse. They’ve moved out but their rooms are still there, safe and warm.”

Andre gently carried the little girl upstairs, and Thea followed him. When they arrived in Wendy’s room, Thea noticed the furniture was modest, but everything was clean, and the bed looked invitingly soft. Andre set Mary onto the bed and pulled the covers over her. Without needing to say anything, Thea fluffed the pillow and Andre lifted Mary’s feet. They understood each other without the need to speak. Thea had removed Mary’s shoes before Andre lifted her onto the bed. Just when Andre wanted to unfold the knitted throw and lay it over the child, Thea swept in and gently took it from him, laying it over Mary with the warmth of a mother. But she wasn’t a mother; she was a royal of the Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen family. Stan’s sister was beyond his reach, and yet she was so close that he could smell the violet in her clean soapy scent.

He wasn’t sure how, but they were moving in harmony as if they were of one mind.

“How can I help?” Thea asked when Mary was curled up comfortably.

“Your room is here,” Andre pointed to the door that led to Nick’s old bed chamber. He couldn’t go in there knowing that the beautiful princess would sleep there that night. It wasn’t proper.

Thus, once Mary was safely tucked in, Andre walked back downstairs to his treatment room, where the coachman waited, beads of sweat on his forehead betraying his pain.

As Thea moved to follow Andre, he thought he ought to tell her not to. Witnessing the driver’s injury was not a matter for princesses.

But he didn’t say a word.

And before Andre could make sense of why he wanted to impress the princess, since he shouldn’t wish to dwell on any of her qualities, not even her beauty, he heard a groan.

The driver waited, his face pale but resolute on the treatment bed. Andre rolled up his sleeves and prepared to tend to the man’s injuries, grateful for the familiar tasks that gave his hands purpose—and kept his mind from wandering too far.

Not that his thoughts needed to go very far—Thea was right behind him.

*

The streets outside were silent save for the occasional clatter of a distant carriage, and Thea felt like a thief in the middle of the night. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much excitement in one night.

Despite the late hour, the doctor’s treatment room was brightly lit with the gas lamp in the ceiling. A doctor needs light, Thea thought, even though this type of lamp was a rare luxury. His patients must either be very rich and pay him well, or he was that committed to his work that he refused to do it under candlelight. He needed to see well, regardless of the time of day, Thea decided. It was dark outside, and Andre left the curtain closed.

At first, Thea stood in the doorway, watching Andre guide the coachman, wincing in pain, to sit up for his examination. Andre’s hands were steady and sure as he supported the man who still cradled his injured arm with a grimace on his weather-beaten face. She watched the doctor’s steady hands and composed expression, her heart pounding and hands trembling in stark contrast.

“Can you sit here, please?” Andre instructed, his voice gently commanding. He helped the coachman into a special position on the table so that Andre was supporting his arm at all times. Thea noted the unnatural angle of the man’s arm. “They’ve landed quite a blow.”

Thea stepped further into the room, feeling a warmth spread over her in what should be a cold, clinical space. Andre glanced up, their eyes locking briefly before he focused on the task at hand.

“What can I do to help?” Thea asked. Andre hesitated momentarily, but she gave him a soft smile and removed her gloves. She set them on the desk, which she assumed was his. “I’m ready.”

“This is not a task for a p—”

Thea put her index finger on her mouth. “I’m just Mary’s governess and eager to make myself useful.” I am not just a princess with a trophy title. I can be useful.

Andre paused and sucked his cheeks in.

Thea gave a reassuring nod.

He sighed. “Could you, please?” He inhaled sharply as if struggling to give a princess order. So she waited, gave a submissive smile that she’d practiced in conversations with Mary’s parents, and folded her hands in front of her stomach.

“I’d like to help. He brought us to safety.” Thea gave the driver a grateful look, and Andre seemed to notice. The driver, however, winced in pain, and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.

“Please fetch me the bandages and splint from the cabinet,” Andre requested, finally putting the patient before the rank that stood between him and Thea. His tone softened when he addressed her as he glanced over his shoulder at a walnut cabinet the size of a door leaning against the wall.

She nodded, her skirts rustling as she moved across the room. Her fingers traced the rows of neatly arranged medical supplies before she found what he needed and brought them over. Their fingers grazed, the lightest contact, as she passed the tools into his waiting hand. A shiver started at her fingertips and shot up her arm, sending a warm, electric pulse straight to her core.

Her eyes lingered on the veins running along the back of his hand, and she marveled at their strength and precision.

“Thank you,” he murmured, setting to work. He gently palpated the coachman’s arm, trailing his fingers over the bruise and carefully moving it except where it couldn’t move. He felt for the break, narrowing down the exact spot. The coachman grimaced, yet kept his composure, as even more sweat dotted his forehead.

“The radius is broken cleanly,” Andre said, his tone clinical as he reached for the bandages. “We’ll need to set it and apply a brace to stabilize the radius and the ulna. This will help minimize movement while it heals. It will take time, but you’ll recover.”

Emotions coursed through her—admiration, longing, and frustration. She yearned to contribute more, to match his expertise with her own. The difference in their abilities pressed heavily on her chest. As she watched him move with seamless proficiency, her eagerness to help felt like a pale shadow. Yet, when their hands brushed, she felt a connection that bridged their skill gap.

“You will be alright,” Andre assured him. “But you must avoid using this arm until you are better.”

Thea watched as Andre positioned his hands on the coachman’s lower arm, his movements confident and precise. The room fell into a tense silence, punctuated only by the coachman’s ragged breaths. Andre leaned in close, his ear almost touching the patient’s skin as if he could hear the fracture whispering its secrets.

“Would you like to step out for a moment?” Andre asked Thea, his voice calm but charged with an undertone of intensity. “I’m going to set it now.”

The driver gasped and seemed to hold his breath.

Thea shook her head, her resolve firm despite the unease twisting in her stomach. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Andre’s face, the concentration etched in every line on his forehead.

Andre nodded once, then turned his full attention back to the broken limb. His fingers moved with deliberate care, probing the area around the break. Thea marveled at his focus, noticing how his jaw tightened as he assessed the damage. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and manipulated the bone.

The sound that followed was a sickening crunch, like the crack of a hard nut underfoot. Thea nearly convulsed, but she was too captivated to even breathe. The coachman let out a cry, his body tensing with the sharp pain, but Andre’s grip remained steady. Sweat trickled down the patient’s temples, but Andre’s eyes never wavered from the task. Thea’s heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the moment’s urgency.

Andre’s fingers worked meticulously, nudging the bone fragments into alignment. She saw the exact moment when the pieces slid into place, a subtle shift that seemed monumental. Andre’s face showed a flicker of relief. He pressed down a bit more, ensuring the alignment was perfect.

“There,” he whispered, his voice barely breaking the tension in the air. “It’s set.”

It had been no more than a second, perhaps two, but Thea felt as though she’d been through so much more while watching Andre work.

Fascinated, she didn’t want to leave his side.

Without pausing, Andre reached for the splints and bandages she’d brought him. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, snugly wrapping the bandages around the arm. The coachman’s grimace softened slightly as the support took hold, and the pain eased from his face.

Thea stepped closer, and she admired Andre more with each passing second. She handed him the final strip of cloth, their fingers brushing again. The touch rooted her in the moment, a silent acknowledgment of the skill she was witnessing. And this time, Andre held her gaze. Just for an instant—a meaningful moment in time—Thea felt seen as a valuable person in an important moment, not merely glanced over as a princess who didn’t live up to her purpose in life.

There, in the treatment room with the doctor with deep, dark eyes, her existence mattered in a way that she’d never felt before.

And she wanted to matter even more.

I want to matter to him.

Andre tied off the last bandage, his movements precise and sure. He looked up at the coachman, offering a reassuring nod. “You’ll need help. Is there anyone waiting for you at home?”

“Yes, I will go home to my wife.” The man looked down at the brace. “But I can’t work like this.”

Thea barely had time to consider how quickly fortunes could turn when a dark cry echoed through the hallway. Thea’s eyes widened in alarm, and without a word, they both rushed to the source of the sound.

In the hallway, Stan stood, clutching his shoulder, his face contorted in pain. A heavy piece of luggage lay at his feet, evidence of his ill-advised attempt to carry it despite what seemed to be a grave injury.

“Stan!” Thea exclaimed, rushing to her brother’s side. “You shouldn’t have!”

Andre was at Stan’s other side in an instant, his hands already assessing the damage. “Your shoulder is bleeding,” he said grimly. “Come in here.” Stan gritted his teeth, nodding his consent.

Andre guided him to Nick’s treatment room since the driver was still in his. He lit the lamp on and indicated where Stan should lie. Thea froze for a moment, taking the room in. There were cupboards similar to Andre’s room, two desks, one with a stand and a prism on a small velvet cloth.

“This is Nick’s room, the eye surgeon and oculist.” Andre tended to Stan but must have seen Thea’s momentary confusion when she looked at how different this treatment seemed compared to Andre’s.

Thea’s heart raced as she watched Andre’s firm but careful movements, examining Stan’s arm with unerring focus.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were bleeding?” Andre asked.

“It hurt, but I’ve been wearing the black evening coat and—” Stan winced. “Ah! I didn’t realize how bad it was until I carried the trunks in and saw some blood on my cuff.”

Stan shifted on Nick’s operating table, and Andre helped him out of his coat.

A large red spot on Stan’s white shirt spread from the collar to the elbow, and the ivory waistcoat was also stained.

Thea came to his side. “ Ar fi trebuit s?-mi spui!” You should have told me! Thea’s concern was evident in her voice when she spoke Romanian with her brother.

“ Nu ?tiam c? este atat de r?u ,” I didn’t know it was so bad, Stan mumbled. “I’ve been hurt so much worse than this.”

“You didn’t pay attention to your bleeding shoulder?” Thea couldn’t hide the exasperation in her voice.

“ Eu nu am fost atent? Nici m?car nu ?tiam c? e?ti ?n Anglia ?i apoi a trebuit s? m? lupt cu trei criminali ?narma?i c?lare ca s? te salvez!” I wasn’t careful? I didn’t even know you were in England and then I have to fight off three armed criminals on horses to save you!

Thea opened her mouth to retort, but her words faltered as her gaze dropped to Stan’s shoulder. Her fingers brushed against the torn fabric, now soaked through with blood. “You’re bleeding,” she stated the obvious, her voice softer now, almost trembling.

Stan waved her off, his jaw tightening. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Thea snapped, but her eyes darted to the shadows around them. “We need to get out of here before—”

A sharp crack echoed from the floorboards, freezing them both. Stan spun toward the sound, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife in his boot. Thea’s grip on Stan’s arm tightened.

“We’re safe here,” Andre whispered, his voice barely audible.

Stan nodded, his expression grim. “The door’s locked. They’ll strike again but we don’t know when.”

Thea’s breath hitched, and for a moment, the three of them stood motionless, listening. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the darkness pressing in around them. Then, from somewhere outside on the street, came the unmistakable sound of hooves.

“They’ll be back,” Thea whispered, hugging herself and rubbing her arms as if she could comfort herself. “But you can’t lock me away. Not in England.”

Stan straightened and narrowed his gaze with a look so stern that it could have come from their father. “We have to pay attention. You can’t ever be out of my sight from now on.” Stan winced, seemingly unable to ignore the pain in his shoulder.

Andre glanced at Thea, his voice firm as he nodded to Stan. “I’m here, too. Stay close. No matter what.”

As Andre tended to Stan, the sound of hooves grew louder outside. The town on the other side of the walls was alive with the promise of danger. And somewhere in the distance, a low, guttural laugh echoed from a nocturnal animal, sending a chill down Thea’s spine.