Page 40 of A Touch of Charm (Miracles on Harley Street #3)

Dearest Miss Thea,

I trust this letter finds you in excellent health and spirits. My husband and I wish to extend our deepest gratitude for your kindness and good care of our dear Mary during our prolonged absence. It is a great comfort to know that she is under your watchful and affectionate eye, thriving as she does in such a warm and nurturing care. Your attentiveness brings us both great peace of mind, as no other arrangement could have been more suitable or delightful for our Mary.

It is with much joy and anticipation that we give our consent for Mary to attend your forthcoming nuptials. The thought of her partaking in such a splendid event, in the company of so much happiness, has brought a smile to our faces. She wrote to us in a letter, full of anticipation of your wedding with an enthusiasm that is simply heartwarming, and we are certain it will be a most memorable and joyous occasion.

My husband and I grieve only that we cannot be present to witness what I am assured will be an affair of unmatched elegance and beauty. May the day bring you nothing but bliss and herald the beginning of a matrimonial union as harmonious and fulfilling as ours, dear Thea.

Believe me to be,

Yours most sincerely,

Mrs. Adelaide White

Thea folded the letter with care, her heart swelling with affection at Mrs. White’s kind words. She rose and stepped out of the sitting room at Cloverdale House, the sound of distant voices guiding her steps down the long, quiet corridor but Cloverdale was never short of distractions, especially when Mary was around.

She found the girl in Andre’s treatment room, sitting perched on a high stool. A piece of parchment rested on her lap, and she was diligently sketching with a pencil. Beside her stood Andre gesturing to the skeleton hanging against the wall—a rather macabre but educational addition to the room. He must have brought it from the practice on Harley Street so Mary could study it again.

“And this,” Andre was saying as he pointed to a broad, curved bone, “is the largest bone in the human body. The hip bone, or as we say in Latin, the os coxae .”

“Sounds like it’s an oxen!” Mary looked up with bright eyes, her pencil pausing mid-stroke. Catching sight of Thea, she beamed with pride. “Oh, Thea! We are studying anatomy!”

“Is that so?” Thea replied, stepping into the room fully. Her eyes met Andre’s briefly, and she felt herself flush at the warm spark in his gaze, one that seemed to glow only for her. The smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she found herself momentarily breathless.

“I had a short break between patients,” Andre explained, his tone light but his eyes lingering on hers, “and our apprentice nurse here had a few queries. I thought answering them would be a productive use of our time.”

Thea approached with a soft laugh, holding out the letter. “Speaking of productive use of time, Mary, I’ve just received word from your mother. She has given you permission to attend our wedding.”

Mary’s pencil clattered to the floor as she clasped her hands together, her face lighting up with joy. “Oh, Thea! Truly? I can come?”

“Truly,” Thea said warmly.

With a delighted squeal, Mary hopped off the stool, leaving her sketch behind as she darted past Thea. “I must tell everyone! Everyone must know!” she called out as she disappeared down the hall, her voice fading into the hum of the busy house.

Andre chuckled softly, stepping closer to Thea. “She’s certainly not lacking in enthusiasm.”

“She never is,” Thea agreed, but her words faltered as Andre took another step toward her. His gaze now held a simmering intensity, and her heart gave a small, traitorous leap.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice rich and low, “nobody is more excited for this wedding than I am.”

Before she could summon a reply—or even banter some light tease in return—Andre leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that banished all coherent thought. It was not the gentle, tentative sort of kiss one might expect in a quiet corner of Cloverdale House, but rather the kind that left her utterly breathless, dizzy, and wholly undone.

When at last they parted, his forehead rested against hers, and the unspoken promise of all that lay ahead filled the small space between them.

“My Princess Thea,” he murmured, her name on his lips an unspoken vow.

She smiled softly, her body humming with warmth as she glanced at the open doorway. Somewhere down the hall, Mary was no doubt regaling the staff with her news. And right here, in this quiet moment, with Andre at her side, Thea felt the future spread before her, bright and limitless.

This was happiness.

This was love.

And the rest of her life began now.

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