Page 5 of Better Not Bet a Bluestocking (Ladies of Opportunity #3)

Outside Georgine’s chamber at Fernleigh House

Six days later–half of eleven in the evening

Head lowered, one hand cupping his nape while resting a hip against the windowsill, Robyn waited for Doctor Tinsdale to finish examining Georgine . The lone candle in the brass wall sconce flickered, as if objecting to remaining lit this late.

When Robyn had stopped in to check on Georgine before retiring, as he had every night since she’d become his forced guest, her pale, clammy skin and flushed cheeks had immediately alarmed him.

Instead of sleeping, as he had expected, Georgine lay awake, her eyes glassy and lines of pain bracketing her dry lips. She held herself unnaturally still and winced whenever she moved the slightest.

When he touched the back of his hand to her forehead and was met with searing heat, Robyn promptly sent a footman to rouse Doctor Tinsdale from his comfortable bed, despite the lateness of the hour.

However , Robyn hadn’t awakened Matilda .

The brunt of Georgine’s care had fallen to her, and she needed to sleep.

Besides , what could she have done?

Only this morning, while breaking their fast, he and Matilda had discussed how fortunate Georgine was to have avoided an infection in her wound. Her sister was supposed to arrive tomorrow and remain until Georgine had fully recovered.

Matilda didn’t say as much, but she looked forward to more feminine company.

Robyn , on the other hand, very much anticipated his household returning to its normal cadence. More on point, he welcomed not having a very beautiful invalid a few doors down from his bedchamber and disrupting his sleep.

The past week had been pandemonium.

First , Roxina and Shelby had descended upon the house in the middle of the night, chased by that madman Desmond , God rot his black soul.

Now , Georgine recovered from a serious wound, and though sweet and polite, Regina Thackerly was a bit of a self-centered scatterbrain—the exact opposite of her poised, considerate, bluestocking older sister.

How could kin be so different?

Lifting his gaze from the floor, Robyn stared at the closed bedchamber door. A frown drew his eyebrows together and his mouth downward.

The longer Doctor Tinsdale remained closeted inside, the more troubled Robyn became.

It seemed his and Matilda’s celebration about Georgine’s good health had been premature. He hadn’t let himself contemplate anything other than her complete recovery, though he knew full well that a chipped bone likely meant some reduced mobility in the shoulder and arm.

Doctor Tinsdale had forbidden mention of that possibility to Georgine , however. He insisted such unwelcome news might affect her mending. Her well-being—physical and mental—was the physician’s paramount concern.

Pulling on an earlobe, Robyn contemplated his feelings toward Georgine .

In short, they baffled him.

Last week, during those first few hours, when her life hung in the balance, he would have sworn he loved her. But in the days since, when she scarcely tolerated his presence and continually became prickly when speaking to him, he had started to doubt himself.

One minute, he adored the minx, and the next, she vexed him like the very devil.

Perhaps the stress of the moment had exaggerated his affection.

Or was he as fickle as a Saturday night harlot?

His self-reflection didn’t exactly paint him in a flattering light.

Still , could Robyn be in love with Georgine , even if she could not tolerate him?

Was love that capricious?

And if this be-jumbled, perplexing, maddening conundrum was indeed that elusive, much-touted emotion, was he destined to suffer from unrequited love as had his friends Jack Matherfield and Shelby Tellinger ?

Though neither man would ever admit that fact.

Besides , Jack had claimed his happily ever after when he married Aubriella , and Robyn strongly suspected Shelby and Roxina would march down the aisle in the not-so-distant future.

Taking a deep breath, Robyn crossed his ankles and folded his arms across his chest, willing Doctor Tinsdale to exit Georgine’s chamber with an update.

Robyn’s musing meandered back to his feelings toward Georgine —feelings he had taken great care to conceal—although Matilda might have guessed his secret.

Certainly , Robyn’s interest in Georgine went beyond brotherly or platonic.

She utterly intrigued him, and not just because she was a founding member of the Ladies of Opportunity secret gambling society—a society he wasn’t supposed to know about—but because she possessed strength, intrepidity, and an adorable stubborn streak most people missed.

He only knew about the Ladies of Opportunity because Mrs . Pottle , his former cook, had recently let something slip. Though long retired, he looked in on her, making sure she had plenty of coal and tea.

During his last visit, aware of her fascination with cricket, he had teased, “ Have you been to any cricket matches of late, Mrs . Pottle ?”

Delight lit her wrinkled face.

“ Indeed , sir. I won a neat sum wagering the visiting team’s bowler would send his first ball wide. I placed the bet through the secret gambling society operated by Aubriella Matherfield , Georgine Thackerly , and Claire Granlund —oh, merciful heavens!”

She had clapped a hand to her mouth. “ I ought to have my tongue bolted tighter than a convent door. You weren’t to know a thing about that, sir.”

Winking , he leaned closer. “ Your secret is safe with me, Mrs . Pottle . I shan’t breathe a word.”

And Robyn hadn’t.

Yet .

He could imagine Georgine’s surprise—perhaps affront and anger—if he did.

Yes , he would have to time that carefully.

Georgine had managed the small inheritance from her grandmother with skill and cleverness, all the while acting as a surrogate mother to Regina , ten years her junior.

A half-grin quirked his mouth upward on one side.

His fiery little betting bluestocking.

Someday , he would have a discussion with her about the intriguing enterprise she and her friends operated.

He squinted at the door again.

Did the doctor’s extended examination portend unwelcome news?

Fiercely independent, Georgine would struggle to accept any diminished use of her arm.

What if — Robyn sucked in a ragged breath between his clenched teeth— if the infection becomes so severe, the doctor must remove the limb?

Queasiness curled up Robyn’s throat.

Eyes closed, he said a rare and brief prayer on Georgine’s behalf.

It could not hurt, and she needed all the help she could get.

Another twenty minutes passed before the doctor exited the chamber, his expression grim and mustached mouth tight.

Robyn straightened, trying not to appear too anxious or interested, when both sentiments pummeled him like a champion pugilist’s fists. “ Doctor …?”

“ Miss Thackerly’s wound has become putrefied—not severely but enough to cause me concern.

I had hoped frequent bandage changes and the daily menu I prescribed would have strengthened her enough to prevent such an occurrence, but the chipped bone complicates her healing.

” Sighing , the doctor rubbed his furrowed forehead with two fingers.

“ I shall need to check on her twice daily until the threat passes.”

And if it didn’t?

Robyn did not voice the question, for he knew the unpleasant answer.

Amputation .

Perhaps … death .

At the horrific thought, his stomach roiled again.

Steady on, Robyn Wade Gillson Fitzlloyd .

Don’t tally your winnings before the dice have left your palm.

He forced his focus back to Doctor Tinsdale .

“ What can we do?” He met the doctor’s concerned gaze.

“ I’ve applied a honey and garlic poultice to battle the infection.

There is a jar of the poultice in her chamber.

I want it, and the bandages changed every four hours.

The old bandages and poultice cloths should be burned.

Whoever changes the bandages must painstakingly wash their hands with soap, rinse thoroughly in clean water, and dry using a fresh towel. Every time. No exceptions.”

He pressed his lips together. “ Insist Miss Thackerly take nourishment, even if she isn’t hungry. Especially the tonics I prescribed.”

Easier said than done.

The good doctor had not experienced Georgine’s obstinate side.

It didn’t escape Robyn that she usually reserved that bit of her character for Robyn alone.

“ She needs her strength to fight the fever and infection.” The doctor removed his spectacles and tucked them into his jacket pocket.

What was it Robyn’s mother used to say?

Starve a cold, feed a fever?

Neither of which made particular sense to him.

“ Her sister is supposed to arrive tomorrow, and her friends have asked to visit her more than once.” He cupped his nape again, trying to rub away the rocks that had gathered there from worry and tension.

So far, only Robyn , Matilda , and a maid had been permitted into the invalid’s bedchamber.

“ Her sister’s presence might be helpful for an hour or two a day, if she isn’t a chatterbox or flibbertigibbet.

And only if she is in good health.” The doctor cocked his head and then shook it.

“ But no other visitors. Miss Thackerly cannot be exposed to illness, and she needs to rest, not entertain. She also needs to be monitored around the clock for the next couple of days. If she worsens, fetch me at once.”

That meant Robyn wasn’t sleeping tonight, but then, he hadn’t slept well since that godawful day in the garden. A recurring nightmare of Georgine being shot and dying woke him every night.

“ Understood .” Robyn gestured down the corridor. “ Shall I see you out?”

“ No .” Doctor Tinsdale shook his head, the merest hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “ I know the way.”

He ought to.

He’d been here often enough, having been the Fitzlloyd family doctor for decades.