Page 6 of The Honorable Rogue (The Notorious Nightingales #5)

CHAPTER SIX

“ N ot a week goes by that someone in this family hasn’t done himself some harm.”

Tearing her eyes from Mr. Thomas, she looked at the elderly man hurrying in the door. In one hand, he held a black leather bag that was the same as the one her family’s doctor carried, and in the other, a brown mug.

“You have a new bag, Mr. Greedy?” Ivy Nightingale said.

“Aye, Mavis got it for me. I’ve not asked from where,” he said with a smile, which smoothed out a few of the lines on his face. “It’s best not to sometimes. Now, let me see the patient.”

“I’m all right, Mr. Greedy,” Mr. Thomas gritted out.

Violet did not know a great deal about medical procedures or conditions, but even she knew he was in a lot of pain. Sweat beaded his brow, and his face had a gray tinge to it now. The grip he had on her fingers was weakening.

“It’s his shoulder, Mr. Greedy. I believe it is dislocated,” Violet said.

“Yes, I noticed it was not sitting right. Well, we can set that, and he’ll feel a great deal better. Did you hit your head? ”

Violet felt her stomach clench at the thought. Tobias had hit his head and died not long after.

“I don’t think so, just a scrape to my cheek I believe,” Mr. Thomas said slowly, as if talking cost him a great deal.

“You said you hadn’t hurt it.” Violet knew her words sounded sharp but couldn’t help it. You could not see what was going on inside after a head knock.

The doctor had assured her Tobias would wake, and yet he hadn’t.

“Because it doesn’t hurt,” Mr. Thomas said.

Mr. Greedy moved to inspect it. Violet waited, tense and panicky, gripping the hand that gripped hers back.

She exhaled with relief when Mr. Greedy said, “There are no bumps or cuts, just the one to the cheek. So now let’s focus on the shoulder.”

“No laudanum.”

“Very well, no laudanum, but how about something to ease the pain? First, you need to remove his upper clothing.”

“Charles, I’m here.” Another woman burst into the room. She was stunning and had the look of Mr. Thomas, which suggested she was not his wife but his sister.

Violet had still not put names to many faces in society because she was usually standing in some corner to avoid her mother, who was constantly firing eligible men into her path. She thought this woman was familiar, but they had not spoken.

“I’m all right, Flora,” Mr. Thomas said as the woman hurried to his side. He released Violet’s hand to grab his sister’s.

It was ridiculous to feel a small pang of loss that he no longer needed her, but it was there just the same. When was the last time she felt anything for another man? Never. It had always just been Tobias.

Violet moved to the door, allowing some privacy for them to remove Mr. Thomas’s jacket. When the shirt came off, she knew she should leave. Violet had no right to be in this room with a half-naked man. She saw bands of muscle on either side of his stomach when his chest was exposed and felt her pulse flutter.

“You should probably step from the room, Miss Althorp,” Mrs. Nightingale said, arriving. “Flora, Mrs. Hellion, is here now to assist in anything we need. Thank you.”

“Oh, yes, of course, I will do so if you no longer have need of me,” Violet said, moving into the hallway, but ensuring she still had a view.

“Definitely dislocated,” Mr. Greedy said. “I need you to drink this for me now, Mr. Thomas.” Violet watched him hold out the mug.

“What is it?”

“Herbs and some brandy, nothing more. Sip it.”

She leaned slightly to the left as Mrs. Hellion moved and blocked her view, and saw Mr. Thomas take the mug with his good hand. He then threw it back, grimacing at the taste.

“Well, I suppose that’s one way of getting it down. Right, then, let me get that shoulder back into place,” Mr. Greedy said.

As if sensing she was there, Mr. Thomas found her, and for a long heartbeat, their eyes connected. Violet fought the need to press a hand to her chest as it started thudding hard, and then Mr. Greedy blocked her view completely.

Violet never reacted to a man as she had to Mr. Thomas. Surely it was simply because of what had occurred. Yes, of course, that’s it.

“This will hurt,” Mr. Greedy said.

Mr. Thomas made a small grunt but nothing more as his shoulder was manipulated back into place.

Move, Violet. She should not be standing there watching a near-naked man while in a house of strangers. Hurrying along the hallway, she took in the scuff marks and possessions stacked on side tables. Underneath one was a man’s shoe. Large shoe, she amended. How many lived in this house?

Starting back down the stairs, she found two people seated on the bottom step. One was the little girl Anna, and the other a man she knew the name of. Before them was a large gray-haired shaggy dog.

“Miss Althorp,” he said, rising. “Anna told me you had escorted my brother-in-law home after injuring himself.”

“Mr. Hellion.” She dropped into a clumsy curtsy on the step.

“You have blood smears on your dress. Are you well, Miss Althorp?”

She looked down at the stain. Her mother would have a fit if she saw that.

“Yes, I am, thank you. I helped Mr. Thomas return, sir,” she said. “I saw him fall and came to his aid, as he was attempting to retrieve my reticule that had just been stolen.” The words came out fast, which was how she spoke when she was nervous, and exceedingly handsome men like Mr. Hellion made Violet feel that way.

“Well then, it sounds like you’ve had a harrowing day, as well as Charles.” He had a friendly smile. “Do you want to sit with us? Can I get you a cup of tea while we await more news of the patient?”

“I should leave, as my family will worry,” Violet said.

“Of course. Your maid is currently in the kitchen with Miss Bud, the Nightingale housekeeper.”

“Is Charles all right, Miss Althorp?” the little girl asked. Her face was pinched with worry.

“He will be just fine,” Violet said, patting the dog when it leaned in to sniff her. “Even now he is a great deal better than he was because Mr. Greedy gave him some medicine and has already resettled his shoulder into place.”

“Really?” She looked hopeful.

“Really.”

“Anna, my sweet, run to the kitchens and collect Miss Althorp’s maid for me, will you?” Mr. Hellion said. “Hers was not an easy childhood before she came to live here, so she worries if one of her people are hurt,” he said when the child left.

“I’m glad she is happy now then,” Violet said instead of asking what the child’s life had been like and why she was now here. She was a person who liked answers but knew she could not always get them.

“Right, then.” Miss Dabbers appeared, bustling to where Violet stood. “I’ve had a wonderful cup of tea and a ginger biscuit, and now I’m ready to leave,” she said as if she were the gentleman’s daughter and Violet the maid.

“What’s in your hand?” Violet asked, pointing to the piece of paper Miss Dabbers was holding.

“A recipe for the ginger biscuits. Miss Bud’s are the best I’ve eaten. Now come along,” she said, heading for the door.

“She’s been with our family for many years,” Violet said, dropping into another curtsy.

“I completely understand. After all, you’ve met Mungo, I’m sure? Plus, we have two women who are expecting babies now, and they can be quite contrary when required.”

“I doubt they’d be happy to hear you say that,” Violet felt she needed to say on behalf of the women.

“No indeed. Wonderful ladies, both of them, and far more intelligent than their husbands. My wife has already told me she, too, will behave terribly when with child, simply because she can.”

She nodded, not sure what to add to that. “Good day to you, Mr. Hellion. ”

“Can I call a carriage or a hackney for you, Miss Althorp?”

“We can manage, thank you,” Violet said, walking out the front door behind Miss Dabbers.

Once they reached the main road, they would hail another hackney and hopefully get back into the house without her mother’s knowledge.

There were children shrieking in the grassed area in the middle of the close with a dog barking after them. Front gardens bloomed with colorful beds of flowers, and it looked an idyllic place to live.

“Good day to you,” a voice said as they neared the end of the street.

Violet found three ladies seated on chairs outside the front door of a house. They were knitting. While she no longer had the list, she remembered everything on it and in what order. Number two was You must knit something I can wear.

“Good day,” Violet and Miss Dabbers returned.

“I am Mrs. Greedy, and this is Miss Alvin and Mavis Johns. It’s my husband who is once again patching up a member of the Nightingale household,” she said. “How is Mr. Thomas?”

“He is better now that his shoulder has been reset. Your husband has eased his pain a great deal. He is clearly a skilled healer.”

“Aya, he learned from a gentleman in the war who took Mr. Greedy on as his assistant. He then kept learning upon his return,” the woman said as her needles clacked. “He’s a reader also and has a thirst for knowledge.”

Violet was in awe as the three of them continued to knit while looking at her. She’d be hopelessly tangled by now.

“You’ll have to come back for the games,” Miss Alvin said.

“Pardon? ”

“The Crabbett Close games,” Mavis Johns said as if that explained everything. “You’ll come to one soon, I’m sure.”

“I will?” Violet asked.

“Would you like a tot of whisky?” Mrs. Greedy said.

Before Violet could say no, Miss Dabbers had said yes.

“Is that hard?” Violet asked, pointing to Miss Alvin’s knitting when Mrs. Greedy left to get the whisky. If she was to guess, she’d say she was creating a hat. “I would like to learn.”

“It takes practice is all,” the woman said. Her face was lined, but her eyes were sharp. Bundled in many layers even on such a warm day, she looked like a good puff of wind would blow her over.

“Well then, you’d best step inside the gate, and we can get onto your first lesson.”

“Ah… oh well, that’s very kind of you.

“I always say the right time to start something new is now,” Mrs. Greedy said, returning with a tray. She then handed one to Miss Dabbers, who instantly drank hers in a single gulp. Violet passed on the offer.

“Well now, not only have I tasted the finest ginger biscuits but also the best whisky,” Miss Dabbers said, smacking her lips together. “We’ll be returning for that knitting lesson for sure.”

“Well then. We’ll look forward to seeing you. I’ve plenty of wool and needles, so you need not bring more,” Mrs. Greedy said.

And that, Violet thought, was just another odd thing that happened in a day filled with them.

“Come along, Miss Dabbers,” she said to her maid, who appeared to be about to take her second glass of whisky.