The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(46)

Anxiety flooded Caroline. Was Marjorie taken ill? Was Javan? She thought his appetite had been a little better this last week or so, but she’d no real idea what his injuries entailed.

More than half an hour later, Dr. Lampton still hadn’t ridden away, and Caroline had to force herself not to pace and thus disturb Rosa’s concentration with her own worry. Ginny the maid stuck her head around the door.

“Master asks that you bring Miss Rosa to the drawing room, Miss.”

Rosa heard that at once, hastily shoving her painting to one side.

“That’s very good,” Caroline observed. “We’ll take a look at the light when we return.”

Javan Benedict was discovered in the drawing room with Dr. Lampton who, since his wife’s death, had developed a rather forbidding aspect to go with his already cynical humor. He did at least relieve his scowl as they entered, presumably for Rosa’s benefit, after she pulled up short at the sight of the unexpected stranger with her father.

Caroline’s anxious gaze could find nothing ill or even out of the ordinary about Javan. Dr. Lampton gave her a slight bow but came to shake Rosa’s hand when her father introduced them.

“How do you do, Miss Rosa?” he said gravely. “Your father tells me you haven’t spoken a word in two years and would like to see if I can fix whatever is wrong, so that you can speak to him again. Is this a good idea?”

Rosa gave a little shrug, which he appeared to take as assent.

“So, do you feel ill? In pain? Unhappy?”

To each of his questions, Rosa shook her head.

Dr. Lampton then asked permission to examine her mouth and throat, then turned her toward the light from the window.

“Will you let him examine you, too?” Caroline asked.

“He already has. And Marjorie. I got a special price for a family group. He’d probably throw you in for free if you’d like a quick—”

“Thank you, I am never ill,” she interrupted. “Please don’t be flippant. Did he find you…well?”

“I believe so. He gave me some ointment and a vile tasting tonic, and some exercises to strengthen my leg. He seemed to be a sensible man so I let him talk to Marjorie and Rosa.”

Caroline, who hadn’t expected to learn even those few details from him, cast him a quick glance, but his attention was all on Rosa. While he examined her, Dr. Lampton asked her a lot of questions, even fished a notebook from his bag and a pencil and asked her to write down answers that required more than a nod or a headshake. It was, however, doubtful she would write anything new. Javan had already questioned her in this way and learned very little from her short, evasive answers.

While Rosa wrote, Dr. Lampton walked across to Javan and Caroline.

“She’s frightened,” he said abruptly. “And is either afraid to speak of it, or simply doesn’t wish to remember. Therefore, she doesn’t speak at all so that she can never speak about that. I suspect she’ll speak again when she’s ready, for her understanding seems to be quite superior for a child of her years, and I can find no physical damage. If you want to encourage her to speak…my advice would be to confront her—while she feels safe in your protection—with a dilute form of whatever frightened her in the first place.”

“I don’t know what that was,” Javan said miserably. “I was not in the country when she first stopped speaking.”

Dr. Lampton shrugged. “Then give her time. For what it’s worth, I believe you are doing the right things.” His gaze flickered over Caroline.

“And my sister?” Javan asked with difficulty. “Can you suggest anything other than bleeding her?”

“Bleeding her will only weaken her,” Dr. Lampton snapped. “I would not suggest it at all. I have found a regular infusion of St. John’s wort to help in many such cases. Lavender also. And persuade her to take more exercise or she will atrophy.”

The doctor took a breath, perhaps realizing he had sounded too short. “Forgive my blunt manners.”

“I prefer them to any other,” Javan replied.

“I do not belittle your sister’s condition,” Lampton said. “In fact, you were right to consult me on all three cases, and if you are agreeable, I would like to see you all again in one month. Or earlier, if you feel the need. Good day.”

He collected his notebook from Rosa with a surprisingly kind smile and took his leave. Rosa and her father both gazed after him.

“I’m glad you consulted him,” Caroline said.

“Well, now that we have, let us see who can winkle Marjorie out for a walk with Tiny. My money is on Rosa.”





Chapter Thirteen





On the afternoon of the dinner party, Caroline changed quickly into her brown dress, and discovered Marjorie in the dining room, supervising the table setting.

“Might I help with anything, Miss Benedict?” she enquired.

Marjorie glanced up in clear relief, and then squeaked at sight of her. “No, no, the other gown, Miss Grey! The pretty one. Hurry.”

Only when Caroline had changed again was she put to work, arranging table decorations and candles, while Marjorie gazed out of the window, anxiously watching the darkening of the sky.

“Oh dear, I think a storm is coming,” she mourned. “They will not wish to come here in a storm, in case they cannot get home…”