Page 37 of Love Thy Enemy (The Vaughns #4)

E vening settled gently over Eden Place, drawing long shadows across the study and casting the room in a hush that felt deeper than mere silence.

A single lamp burned on the desk, its light pooling over the scattered correspondence and ledgers, while the rest of the room remained cloaked in dusky stillness.

Outside the tall windows, the lawns were swallowed by darkness, save for a sliver of moonlight that broke through the parting clouds and cast a silver glow across the tops of the hedgerows.

There was a bite to the air—autumn’s first nibble—which warned that the seasons were shifting, and somewhere in the corridor, a grandfather clock ticked its steady rhythm, counting the seconds of a day as they slipped away unnoticed.

Gregory had spent the better part of the evening here, retreating into the study after the house had quieted for the evening.

His nightly ritual. Or so it had been for the past month.

Availing himself of the tea that the maid had set on the corner of the desk, he pored over the latest letter from his solicitor in Leeds.

Another property. Another set of details to comb through.

No matter that he had yet to give the fellow permission to pursue a particular property, Mr. Castle was sending a steady stream of recommendations as he scoured the city; Gregory reviewed every possibility, weighing each with the same careful deliberation he applied to everything else in his life.

Relocation wasn’t a decision he could make quickly, not with so many lives now tangled with his own.

Storefronts and workshops were easy enough to sift through, as any building Gregory chose would require extensive reworking to suit the needs of his business, so he had few requirements and found many possibilities.

But a home? That decision was far more daunting.

Mr. Castle described three separate properties, each of which would suit but for different reasons.

There were homes aplenty outside the city, which would grant them grounds and stables.

Plenty of space indoors and out. All in all, it wouldn’t be much different from what they had in Thornsby. Familiar. Comfortable.

But it required significantly more travel; not only for him, as his business would require daily drives into the city, but anytime they wished to visit Thornsby, as the house was far from any railway station.

To say nothing of the limited society outside the city proper, which would be a hindrance to the girls as they came out.

Considering that, Gregory wondered if it was prudent to find a copy of Eden Place; sometimes a complete change was better than a slight shift. Which led him to reconsider the terraced houses in the heart of town.

They boasted garden squares to allow the children a dash of nature, though it would be shared with the neighbors.

And with livery stables, they could still keep horses, though without any proper places to ride, that was of little use.

Yet there was the benefit of society and proximity to his business and Mrs. Stuart’s home, which would allow the lady to visit the children more frequently.

All in all, it boasted the exact opposite blessings and drawbacks of settling outside of town.

Then there were the villas that sat somewhere between the country estates and terraced houses.

It might seem as though it was a beautiful compromise between the blessings of the country and the heart of the city, but being on the outskirts only brought the troubles of both with few benefits to balance them out—less nature and society with greater distances to travel.

At least that made it easy to cross those off the list. And if it were left solely to him, Gregory thought the city boasted far more benefits than the country, especially as they wouldn’t surrender their home in Thornsby.

It would be easy enough to take the children to Eden Place whenever they had need of fields and forests.

And Mr. Castle’s descriptions were intriguing.

Tall windows and tidy brick facades. Orderly rows that edged the garden squares, where children played beneath the watchful eyes of nursemaids.

Shops lining the neighboring roads, close enough for the older children to run errands or fetch sweets on special occasions.

The interiors were well maintained, with high ceilings and ample light. Large public rooms that were cozy enough for a family to enjoy on a quiet evening and large enough to entertain, should the desire strike him. It hadn’t ever before, but then, he’d never had reason to do so.

Gregory could picture them there: the thrum and vitality of the city with jaunts to the country whenever it suited.

Though he was not ready to commit to this change, something inside him had begun to shift since speaking to his parents last month—a quiet, persistent awareness that life in Thornsby, for all its familiarity, might not be the final chapter after all.

Yet as he sat there, eyes scanning the delicate loops of his solicitor’s handwriting, Gregory felt the weight of uncertainty settle heavily across his shoulders, and he rubbed a hand across his brow, easing back into the chair as the scent of old leather and drying ink wrapped around him like a memory.

There was still time to decide, but he would need to do so soon.

The echo of a closing door snapped him from his thoughts, though he paid little heed to the sound. The servants were still occupied with their work for the day, after all. But when it was accompanied by hurried footsteps, Gregory straightened and looked at the door just as a knock sounded.

“I am sorry to bother you, sir,” said Fanny as the maid swept into the room with a bob. “But Mr. Reed just arrived from school with Master Clark.”

Gregory tossed aside the letter. The devil take the boy! The Michaelmas term had only just begun, and the lad had seemed to settle of late, but if Clark had behaved badly enough for them to bring him home in the middle of the night—

“He’s terribly sick,” she added.

Leaping out of his seat, Gregory was down the corridor in a flash, arriving at the front door to find his brother-in-law giving orders to the staff. Walter turned to meet him, his hat clutched in his hand.

“We do not know how he caught it,” he said, his brows twisting. “One of the benefits of a country boarding school is the isolation from illnesses. We watch over the children so closely—”

“Peace, Walter. It happens, and you hold no blame. Where is he?”

“In the carriage,” he said, nodding toward the door, but when Gregory moved in that direction, Walter grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “We need to approach this carefully. Sadie is certain it’s scarlet fever.”

Those two words struck Gregory dumb, his feet anchored in place as he stared at Walter.

“We don’t know how he was exposed—”

“Edward warned me there was a case of scarlet fever in Danthorpe,” said Gregory, running a hand through his hair as he considered the situation. “I spent the last few days preparing the shop for what might come and kept the girls away from the village to be safe.”

Walter nodded. “Sadie recognized the signs right away, and since Eden Place isn’t far from the school, we thought he would rest easier in his own bed. We do not have the means of keeping him properly quarantined, and we cannot risk it spreading.”

“Of course not,” said Gregory. “You did the right thing.”

Shoulders straightening, Walter seemed to calm at that reassurance.

“Sadie remained home to ready the school if it spreads.” Pulling a slip of paper from his pocket, Walter reported, “But she administered willow bark tea and a small amount of laudanum before we left, and I bathed his head with vinegar during the drive.”

He handed the note to Gregory, who glanced at it, but Walter had conveyed Sadie’s instructions well enough. Tucking it away, he dove into action.

Mrs. Ferrell stood at the ready, awaiting her master’s orders.

“Send for my brother and Mrs. Stuart, but warn her not to come if she hasn’t had it before.

This may affect children more than adults, but it strikes far worse for the latter, and we cannot risk it.

And prepare Master Clark’s room and the guest bedroom beside it,” he began, and the housekeeper immediately set to work, snapping off more orders as the staff scurried to obey.

Stopping her, Gregory added, “And once that is complete, send the servants home. We need to keep him quarantined, or this will spread through the village like wildfire.”

“Clark has scarlet fever?” Daphne’s voice trembled, and Gregory spun around and spied her on the stairs, wrapped in a dressing gown with her plait slung over her shoulder.

“Come no closer,” he ordered.

“I’ve had it,” she said, taking the last few steps, but she stopped when Gregory raised a staying hand.

“But your sisters haven’t, and they need to be relocated immediately.

I do not want them within a mile of this.

I cannot leave Clark, and they need someone to watch over them.

” Pausing, he considered where to send them.

Walter’s home wasn’t safe, and Edward’s was filled to the rafters and could be equally dangerous during this ordeal as he worked to heal the village.

“Your parents would welcome them,” suggested Walter. “And I cannot think of better protectors. Even without his sight, your father is a brilliant physician, and your mother knows more about medicine than either you or Edward.”

Gregory nodded. “The girls can sleep together in the spare room.”

But when he turned his attention back to Daphne, her chin was jutted out in that Stuart manner. “I do not want to run away and hide with my sisters. Clark needs me. I must stay and assist.”

Before Gregory could insist that she was more helpful watching over her sisters, he made the mistake of meeting her gaze.

Those eyes were so like her mother’s, and they were filled with unshed tears.

They shone with the heartbreak of one having watched her father pass only a few months ago, and Gregory’s heart cracked as he faced the thought that he had been determinedly ignoring.

Clark would survive this. He would.

“Please let me stay,” she whispered. “You cannot nurse him on your own. I can be helpful. I promise.”

It took only a heartbeat for him to decide, but he held up a finger.

“But first, I need you to prepare the girls. Pack whatever they will require for the next fortnight. Do not scare them. We do not know how serious his case is, and there is no need to fret at this juncture. He will likely be right as rain in a few days, and we are being overly cautious.”

Daphne nodded, taking his orders with all the seriousness of a soldier, and she swiftly climbed the steps, calling out for one of the maids to follow her.

Glancing at Walter, Gregory said, “My clothes will be too large on you, but you’d best change.

Wrap yours in canvas and have Sadie boil or burn them when you arrive home.

” Gregory paused and amended, “Or I can have my servants handle it before they leave. Either way, we do not want any noxious vapors to remain.”

Not waiting for Walter to make his decision (he could discuss that with the servants), Gregory strode through the front door and peered into the waiting carriage.

“Good evening to you, Clark,” he said, adopting a jovial tone and leveling a smile on the young man.

But only the sound of heavy breaths answered.

Lifting the rag from Clark’s forehead, Gregory held fast to his composure as he inspected the ruddy complexion, tell-tale rash, and unfocused eyes. “I understand you are feeling poorly.”

“Mr. Gregory?” Clark’s voice was distant, as though struggling to comprehend the world around him.

Gregory considered how to move the lad, though he was large enough that he was no mere lad any longer. A finger to Clark’s neck confirmed the rapid heartbeat. Thank heavens Sadie and Walter had moved quickly; scarlet fever set in fast, and before long, he would’ve been too ill to move.

“Here,” said Walter, pulling away the ropes that were strapped across the boot. “Your brilliant sister insisted the school needed a stretcher on hand, and with those rambunctious boys, it’s come in handy on more than one occasion.”

Together, they laid the stretcher on the ground and carefully pulled Clark through the carriage door, laying him atop the canvas. Then, taking the positions at the poles, the two men hoisted Clark and carried him into the house.

Maids scurried away, giving them a wide berth as they arrived on the second story, and with a few prods, Gregory guided Walter into the bedchamber and deposited Clark onto the mattress.

Mrs. Ferrell shooed away the remaining servants and strode to where the medicine chest sat, opening the main compartment.

“You should be on your way, Walter. I have it from here,” said Gregory, nodding toward the door. Turning his gaze to Mrs. Ferrell, he instructed her concerning the fellow’s clothing and added, “I need rags, a teakettle, and as much vinegar as you can bring me.”

Though Walter looked as though he wanted to stay, Gregory shooed him away with more reminders about cleansing his clothes of any vapors. Once the door was closed on his brother-in-law, Gregory strode to the window, throwing it open to let the breeze clear out the stagnant air.

Sifting through the medicine chest, Gregory sent a prayer of gratitude that the Vaughns were a prepared lot. Just as Sadie had her stretcher, he had a veritable apothecary shop before him, and pulling out a few vials and bottles, he drew them over to the table beside the bed.

The cloth Walter had used had slipped free, and Gregory repositioned it, mopping the young man’s brow. “You’re home now, Clark. All will be well.”