A Debutante In Disguise. Eleanor Webster

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘The concept of introducing a pathogen to develop a strength is so interesting. And then there is the controversy. You see, Dr Jenner is thought to have first identified that a person may be less likely to contract smallpox if they have been previously infected with cowpox. But Jesty the farmer may have had the idea first.’

      ‘Controversial cowpox—even more entertaining.’

      She frowned, fixing him with a dubious gaze. ‘Not the adjective I would use, but I surmise you are an individual frequently in search of entertainment.’

      She spoke with surprising perspicacity for one so interested in cowpox.

      ‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘My brother is the responsible one. Do you not find that life can become remarkably dull, remarkably quickly?’

      ‘At times,’ she agreed, nodding her head for emphasis. ‘But you have no excuse for boredom. You can read whatever you want and likely no one cancels your scientific journals.’

      ‘Er...no,’ he said.

      He had never subscribed to a scientific journal in his life. He nodded towards the open book on her lap. ‘I take it yours were? Hence your interest in Lord Entwhistle’s library?’

      ‘Yes—you see, I would like—’ She stopped abruptly.

      ‘What would you like?’

      ‘I believe my aspirations might be considered odd. You will not laugh?’

      ‘I have managed thus far in our conversation.’

      ‘To provide medical care.’

      The remark was so unexpected and unusual that he could not contain his reaction, which was a mix of both shock and amusement.

      ‘You mean like a—a—’ He had been about to say midwife, but realised this was hardly appropriate. ‘Like someone who gives out herbs and...and poultices,’ he concluded lamely.

      ‘Or a doctor, surgeon or even an apothecary.’

      ‘Good gracious, why on earth would you want to do so?’

      She shrugged, the dreadful green ruffles rustling. ‘I’ve always wanted to do so. I cannot explain it. It is somewhat like questioning why one would want to walk or do any number of things which are instinctual to us.’

      He was about to say that walking did not involve the removal of body parts with a handsaw, but there was again something in the green intensity of her eyes that made him stop. It was ludicrous, of course, for a lady to wish to be a doctor. It was ludicrous for a gentleman to do so, too, for that matter.

      ‘I imagine your mother doesn’t endorse that ambition?’

      ‘My mother’s sole desire is for me to marry someone of a higher social status. She keeps introducing me to titled gentlemen. Anyway, it is not possible. I mean for me to become a doctor. A female cannot enrol in medical college or even apothecary school.’

      He laughed at her disgruntled expression. ‘I am certain you will find something more pleasurable to do.’

      ‘And is that our purpose? To find pleasure?’

      ‘Generally. At least it is the principle I adhere to—except on those occasions when I must march around a square.’

      ‘You are in the military?’ she questioned.

      ‘The lot of the younger son. Although my brother also joined in an excess of patriotism. For me, it was either that or the clergy. I did not find myself well suited to the latter occupation. So, I take it you are currently hiding from your mother?’

      ‘And the latest gentleman she has procured for me.’

      ‘She might have found someone young and pleasant.’

      The young woman glanced down so that her long lashes lay like fans against her cheeks. Her skin was pale, but touched with just the hint of pink along her cheekbones. ‘Except I will not marry. I am quite decided on it.’

      He was struck by the room’s silence. For a moment, time and space seemed distorted, stilling and narrowing so that everything seemed focused on this one moment in this one room.

      ‘That almost seems a shame,’ he said.

      Then she shifted again, her smile widening and transforming her serious demeanour into one of wry humour. Her amusement was contagious and her smile engaging, the more so because it seemed a rare thing. ‘Not at all. Indeed, I believe it would be a goal quite destined for disappointment, given that I resemble a cabbage.’

      He looked at her and, while she was quite strikingly different from other young ladies, he would not put her in the category of leafy vegetables. Indeed, she was almost beautiful in a strange, unconventional way. Her eyes widened as hot colour flushed into her cheeks at his scrutiny. He saw her inhalation. Her lips parted.

      ‘I apologise.’ He stood abruptly. ‘I was rude again. I seem to be making a habit of it. And really, I should return to the dance and doubtless your mother is looking for you.’

      ‘Indeed. Her brows drew together as she looked to the mantel clock. ‘And I am not even done the article.’

      With renewed urgency, her gaze returned to her book, and he had the odd and unusual feeling that he had been dismissed in favour of the more fascinating topic of cowpox.

      He strode to the door, but paused, his hand on the handle. ‘What is your name?’

      ‘Lettuce Barton,’ she said.

       Chapter One

      August 2nd, 1815

      His head hurt. The pain thudded, pounding and stabbing into his temples with every beat of his heart. Tony pulled himself to an upright position, squinting at the obnoxiously bright daylight flickering through the narrow gap of the drawn curtains.

      ‘Good day, my lord,’ Mason said, crossing the floor and pulling open the curtains with a raucous rattle. Bright sunlight spilled through the glass, filling the bedchamber.

      ‘Must you make it so infernally bright this early in the morning?’

      ‘It is past noon, my lord.’

      ‘Fantastic, time for another drink,’ he muttered. ‘Why are you here anyway? Didn’t ring for you. Sleeping.’

      ‘Lady Beauchamp is downstairs, my lord.’

      ‘Actually, not so much “downstairs” any more,’ his sister announced, laughing from the doorway.

      ‘Elsie!’ he said, keeping his injured hand hidden under the bedclothes. ‘You can’t come barging into a gentleman’s bedchamber, even if I am your brother.’

      ‘I have visited for three days and I am tired of waiting. You are either out or sleeping or in your cups. Besides, you do not return one’s СКАЧАТЬ