“Oh?” Her eyes were round with fright. “Have I contracted something horrid?”
“Not at all.” This was one of the best parts of being a doctor. “Inspector, it is my professional opinion that your wife is increasing. At this time, she is around two, perhaps almost three months along.” When they stared at him in shock, his grin grew. “Your infant should arrive at the end of December or the first of January. That’s why you’ve been feeling those symptoms. They should pass in a couple of months.”
“Oh, William!” Mrs. Storme burst into tears. “A baby.”
With a look of concern mixed with astonishment, the inspector gathered her into his arms.
Royce chuckled. “I’ll leave you alone. Before I go, I’ll check in on your mother, Inspector, and then perhaps duck into the drawing room to speak with your sister.”
“I’ll catch you up there. Thank you, Doctor.”
*
No sooner hadRoyce gained the drawing room with anticipation of talking with Isobel buzzing at the base of his spine than the Inspector and Mrs. Storme entered. The worry in their countenances had completely dissolved beneath joy. A stab of envy went through his chest. He didn’t begrudge them this new start, but he was a tad jealous of the closeness they enjoyed together.
“Royce, er, I mean Doctor Marsden. I’d hoped you’d stop in.” Isobel stood, was in the process of crossing the room to greet him, but William intercepted her, scooped her up into his arms in a hug and swung her around off her feet. “For the love of God, Wills, have you lost your mind?” She shoved at his shoulders until he set her down while Royce watched in some bemusement while her dog pranced about them as if it were all a game.
“I have the best news, sister of mine.” When William set her onto her feet, he bussed her cheek. “Well, Francesca and I do.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.” Isobel darted a glance between the two as William returned to his wife’s side. “Is Fanny well?”
“Oh yes.” Mrs. Storme’s eyes twinkled. The inspector could barely contain his grin. “Can you imagine, Isobel? I’m increasing!”
“Yes,” the inspector said, and he was nearly as shocked and happy as his wife. “We’re to have a babe early in the new year.” He beamed at Isobel. “You’ll be an aunt.”
At that moment, Royce happened to look at her and caught the emotions playing over her face: shock, dread, envy, and surprisingly, anger. Then she blinked and pulled a mask of blankness onto her face, but those eyes! Good God, her eyes were so haunted he thought he might have imagined it.
“How wonderful for you.” Tears sprang into her eyes, temporarily obscuring those sapphire depths. “If you’ll excuse me?” Without another word, she hitched up her mint green skirting and pelted from the room.
Ivan barked in happiness and ran after her.
In some confusion, William peered at his wife. He looked at Royce. “What the devil do you think is ailing her?”
“I have some inkling.” With a sigh, he took up his black bag. “Again, many congratulations, Inspector, Mrs. Storme. I’m sure you’ll wish to tell the viscountess the news. While you do that, I’ll go after Miss Storme. Perhaps convince her to take a drive with me until her emotions are under control. Then I’ll return her here.”
“I’d be forever grateful.” The inspector nodded. “You’re a good man, Doctor.”
Heat crept up the back of his neck, for that wasn’t necessarily true. Once he had Isobel to himself and if she was in a proper frame of mind, he’d try to steal another kiss or two. How good was he when knowing that? “Yes, well, I should go after her before she causes too much damage.”
Where would she have gone, blinded by emotions with a penchant for scandal? With nothing for it, he gained the entry hall, spoke briefly with a footman who indicated she’d rushed outside, and finally he located her at the curb. She hesitated as if not certain of her next move.
“Isobel, what’s wrong?” Royce asked in a soft voice as he joined her. The rain hadn’t ceased. Not heavy enough to immediately soak through clothing but just annoying enough to leave one damp. “You left the room as if you’d seen a ghost.” When Ivan jumped about his legs and hers, he snapped the fingers of his free hand and pointed to the ground. No doubt there’d be muddy footprints all over his breeches. “Sit.” Even to his ears, there was a note of command in his voice.
With a whine, Ivan sat on his haunches and looked at him as if for further instructions.
She shook her head. Tears wet her cheeks to mingle with rain drops. Splotchy red patches spread over her face and chest, a testament to her heightened upset. “I’m feeling out of sorts.” Because she’d left the house in a fit of pique, she hadn’t donned the appropriate outerwear, so every minute spent in the rain rendered her delicate muslin dress more and more transparent.
“That’s understandable. Perhaps you should explain.”
“There’s so much pressing down on me just now.” The words were forced as if she warred with herself about releasing them. “I’m happy for them, of course, but there’s a part of me that’s jealous, or perhaps merely envious. Not that one is better than the other.” She scrubbed at the tears but refused to look at him. “I don’t truly know what I feel other than this great wall of anger that fills me.”
“Why? What is bringing it about?” Perhaps if he talked with her, he could better understand why she struggled. After consulting Finn and helping with his mental well-being, it had become second nature, for physical health was often closely related to the state of the mind. It wasn’t classical thinking, but Royce was adamant more study was needed.
Even if it made him the butt of condescending jokes in the medical community.
Finally, she met his gaze. Tears were still pooled in those magnificent eyes, spiking her dark lashes, and spilling onto her cheeks. And the fabric of her dress clung to her delectable curves. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Everything is changing, but I’m stuck here, being left behind.”
“Ah. Now I understand.” Knowing what he did of the history of the Stormes, he had an inkling of her particular brand of angst. She was the youngest of the family, and she’d no doubt been neglected in the face of all the torment and animosity that had shaped the people he’d come to care about. “Come with me.” Gently, he wrapped a hand about her upper arm and led her toward his waiting carriage. “You’ll do well to get out of the rain.” He whistled for the dog. “Come here, Ivan.”