How to Impress a Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

been sent away. In it, among the scrawled accounting of her accommodations and treatments, Elizabeth had mentioned that, “My room is the second from the end and, on a clear day, I imagine I can see all the way to Warwick, where another, larger window stands tall, encasing my two beautiful daughters in glorious warmth and light.”
    Lindsay rushed towards the open doorway, desperate to catch a glimpse of her Mama, nestled in bed, a book of plays propped up on her too thin lap. Skidding to a halt outside the narrow door, Lindsay choked back salty tears. Another too thin frame lay sightless, mouth ajar with a frail arm extended to the doctor within. Just as the balding physician sliced the vein above the crook of the stranger’s elbow and lowered the sallow appendage to drain into the basin on the stone floor, Lindsay’s breath stilled. Blessedly, her vision closed in, and she toppled into the black abyss.
    Lindsay woke up within a rocking carriage to a very perturbed Whitney. “It was a nigh thing getting you out of there, Miss Lindsay. I told you not to go in, but, nay, ye had to force yerself to suffer and breath that fowl air and mess with yer humors. Give thanks to God I can talk the streak off a pole cat. Else wise that doctor would ‘ave thought you a patient, with all that unladylike running and gasping and fainting. I explained how delicate and heart stricken you are and active in the church work, and so on and so forth until he couldn’t wait to bustle me out.
    “Did ye know there are only ten men and women that staff that devil’s den? Two-hundred and sixty patients and ten people to care for the like of them all? No wonder it stinks to high heaven!”
    Lindsay sat up, opened the carriage door, and amidst Whitney’s frantic pounding on the roof and ordering the carriage to stop, she rolled out onto her hands and knees and vomited the contents of her stomach.
    “Oh, it’s that sorry I am, Miss,” Whitney cajoled tutting and reaching into her decolletage to pull out a handkerchief for Lindsay to wipe her mouth. “T’will all be just fine, ye’ll see. Yer just riddin yerself of those foul humors ye’d built up. Did ye good to face yer demons and ye’ll rally. I’ll see to that, I will.”
    Gathering Lindsay into her arms, Whitney hugged her tightly, scowling at the driver when he cleared his throat impatiently. Bundled back into the carriage, Lindsay allowed herself to be rocked and petted as the tears ran, unchecked, down her cheeks and into Whitney’s voluminous skirts. “Momma,” she cried, “Momma, Momma, Momma,” as the truth of her mother’s death sank its carnivorous teeth past sinew and gristle, devouring the last remaining soft bits of her heart.
    ~ ~ ~
    Standing erect and alone along the edge of the ballroom, Lindsay was grateful for the thick, white powder that coated her face, covering the telltale signs of her grief. She could hide behind the elaborate wig and gown and make-up. She need not feel anything or be anyone while safely hidden behind a simpering, smiling facade.
    The second night of Lindsay’s season began much like the first. Cool eyes assessed her from the matron’s corner. Despite herself, Lindsay found her own eyes searching for her old childhood acquaintance, Charles Donovan. She knew she searched in vain.
    Well, good riddance , she thought miserably as her eyes picked out a tall figure making his way towards her. As promised, Dr. Ever’s son, Aiden, made his appearance at her side. “Will you do me the honor of this dance?” he queried, after being introduced and giving her a courtly bow.
    He cut a dashing figure in a green and gold waist coat and cued wig. As he raised his chiseled brow, Lindsay appreciated the masculine black arcs and intelligent flash of jade green eyes. She was transfixed.
    “Oh, uh, yes, thank you, I will.” Blushing deep pink beneath her pale powder, she followed Aiden out onto the dance floor for a country dance. The piece was well