Isobel gave her brother a cup as well. When she took up her own, she looked at Royce from over the rim. “What will you do?”
“To be honest, I have no idea.” He took refuge in sipping his tea. Thank goodness it was strongly brewed and not softened with sugar. “At the moment, the family is in deep mourning. I miss my brother and the clinic.” In a softer voice, and holding her gaze, he added, “There are many things I miss.”
Would she know that he meant seeing her?
She nodded. “No doubt there is. In the coming days, you’ll need to discover those interests you value most over others.”
“Indeed.” Royce quickly drained his cup. He set it on the low table in front of him and could barely sit still with having her so close to him yet so far away. “For the moment, and out of respect for my father, I’ll not take his seat in the House of Lords until next session, so that is a great burden taken from my shoulders.” As he shook his head, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Just now, there is an intensification of party conflict, as the Whig opposition, having gained a few seats in the general election has installed George Tierney as their Commons leader. From what I understand, they’ve made a strong initial muster and wish to mount a motion of censure against the Liverpool ministry.” He heaved a sigh. “It is quite a headache.”
The inspector nodded. “Politics is certainly not for the faint of heart.”
“Yes, so I’m beginning to realize.”
“You don’t wish to become involved.” The other man’s words were not a question.
“I do not, for I am a healer, not a fighter, and I don’t enjoy arguing.” Again, his attention jogged to Isobel. God, what he wouldn’t do to spirit her away and lose himself in her welcoming warm heat. Like an addict dependent on opium, he yearned to touch her, taste her, just one more time before he quit her for good.
“Understandable.” William narrowed his eyes. “You don’t wish to be an earl either.” Again, it wasn’t an inquiry.
“Correct.” He looked between the siblings. Where they were accustomed to living through upheavals in life, Royce was not. It was taxing upon his spirit to know both sides of himself were at war. “But there is no escaping it. I’m compelled to do my duty to the title. What else can I do? Yet I’m still deeply involved in my calling to remain a physician.”
“Why can you not do both?” Isobel narrowed her eyes. Ah, there was a shade of the woman he’d come to know, the lady who challenged every society norm. “There is nothing written in laws or rules that an earl cannot have a livelihood beyond the title.” She shrugged. “Why, there are a handful of peers who’ve gone on to work their trades while holding titles.”
“Perhaps, but my father never had extra time, and he was quite adamant that being the earl came first.” Another round of sorrow poured over him the longer he talked. Where did that leave him? Somewhere trapped in the middle? To say nothing of the yawning responsibilities which came along with being the Earl of Worchester. Already he was nearing forty quite quickly. Soon the pressures to marry well and set up his nursery, beget an heir, would press upon him. And that would take up even more time away from the project of his heart—his clinic.
“There are times in a man’s life when he must decide for himself what he’ll be known for, and whether or not he’ll be the one to buck tradition.” Slight panic lined her face while disappointment threaded through her voice. Abruptly, she stood and shook out her skirts. “We should go, William. I’m sure His Lordship has much on his schedule for this day.”
Bloody hell, but she’d made no secret of emphasizing his formal address.
Royce rose to his feet the same time the inspector did. “My calendar is rather bleak at the moment, Miss Storme, for mourning has seen to that.”
“Ah, well then perhaps you’ll call upon your family if you should need to talk or seek other… comfort,” she said as she swept across the room and then into the corridor beyond.
“What sort of bee does she have in her bonnet now?” the inspector wondered aloud while he stared after her.
“Who can say?” he answered vaguely, for he knew exactly why she was cross. Those needs and longings were the same that currently battered him. It hadn’t been fair of him to cut off their affair at the legs without explanation and let her form her own conclusions, but everything had happened so quickly, he didn’t know how to soften the blow.
But damn he missed her.
The inspector held out a hand. “Truly, I’m sorry for your loss. I am facing the same myself imminently.”
Royce shook the man’s hand. “Indeed, you are, and for that you have my condolences as well, Inspector.”
“William, please.” He nodded. “Isobel is right, though. If you should feel the need for family around you, call on either us or Finn. We all understand.”
Would he offer such a boon if he knew that Royce had not only stolen Isobel’s innocence but had gleefully and without remorse engaged in a heated affair with her? An affair that he sorely wanted to continue?
“Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.”
But he knew, deep down in his heart, everything had changed. He couldn’t risk having Isobel back in his life in any capacity beyond acquaintances, for she was far too scandalous by nature, and now he had a title to protect.
For the first time he understood all too well what Isobel was feeling with the numerous changes to her life.
Damn it all to hell.