“Helen!” Papa wasted no time in rapidly entered the room, nearly knocking into Patsy. “Child, let me look you over.” Her father’s face was an ashen grey, his cravat askew and waistcoat buttoned crookedly.
“Papa, aside from being a little sore, I am fully fit,” she emphasized.
“We’ll see what the physician declares. He’ll be here as soon as he’s finished with John.” Papa placed a kiss atop her head.
Helen sat up straighter in the bed. “How is he?”
“Greenly reports that the physician has set his arm. The break was clean and there is an excellent chance of his regaining its full use.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Perhaps I may cross the hall and look in on—”
“You will do no such thing.” Papa placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving the bed. “Let nature take its course. Sleep is the best medicine for the young man.”
“But Papa?.?.?.” Helen protested.
“Nothing you say will sway my mind. You may see him on the morrow.” He pulled the covers up around her body and tucked her into the bed in the manner he had when she was younger. “Until the physician assesses you, in bed you will remain.”
She sighed. There would be no changing his mind. “Yes, Papa.”
Her father settled himself into the chair across from her. “You and I, however, may pass the time discussing Herodotus andThe Histories.”
Helen blinked slowly. “May we at least discuss it in Greek?”
“As you wish.”
Helen’s mind wandered, reliving the events of the morning in her mind. She could still hear the sound of the approaching horse, smell the mud, and feel John pulling her out of danger’s pathway. Her father’s calming voice relaxed her frazzled nerves.
“Papa?” Her father stopped reading. He placed his finger on the page as a bookmark and glanced up at her. “The gentleman who brought the news of the accident?.?.?. did you happen to catch his name?”
Her father removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, not. In the chaos of the moment, Watson was only able to ascertain your young man referred to himself as Marcellus. He left directly to fetch his personal physician and indicated he would call in the next few days.”
“Marcellus,” she said softly. “What a curious name.”
There was a knock at the door. Her father rose from his seat to grant the physician entry. Papa stood off to the side as the physician examined her. Helen was granted a clean bill of health, but to her dismay, was ordered to stay in bed for the next three days.
Three days is entirely too long. One shall be sufficient. A half if I can speak to Aunt Sarah about letting me come below stairs.
They thanked the physician and he departed. Her father carried himself with a more erect posture. He sat down and picked up the book, continuing to read until Helen’s eyes grew heavy and her breathing evened out. She fully surrendered to the realm of Morpheus and the land of dreams.
Four
Chapter 4
It was two days before Helen was granted leave from her bedchamber. She was presently reading in the drawing room while Aunt Sarah sat at her desk composing a return letter to her eldest son. The only sound that filled the room was the scratching of her quill pen. Helen gave up on her well-worn copy ofThe Iliadand snapped it closed.
Aunt Sarah spoke without looking up. “If you are bored, dear, there is a magazine you may glance through to my left. I’ve earmarked the page with the gown that would suit your coloring well.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Enter,” Aunt Sarah called out.
Watson entered the room. “My lady, there is a caller here inquiring on the availability of Mr. John and Miss Davenport.”
Aunt Sarah placed her pen down and blew on the paper, waiting for the ink to dry.
“Strange, I had thought William asked for the knocker to be removed.”
“Apologies, Lady Greenly, but the knocker is not out. This particular caller, however, I thought you may wish to make an exception for.”
Helen’s heart pounded against her rib cage. She resisted the urge to run to the window and look out onto the front step. Was this the mysterious Marcellus?