REGENCY: Loved by the Duke (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Short Stories) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Serena Vale, Tencia Winters
the Duke. “It is heartening to see you awake.”
Emma smiled at the doctor; her heart fluttering with a newfound joy. She looked back at the Duke; his eyes were on her face. Emma did not know whether to feel uncomfortable or finally flattered. She smiled at him and realised he was still dazed and in the charge of his fever.
“He is still too unwell to speak, doctor,” informed the Duchess, raising herself up from his side.
He stepped aside, allowing the doctor to examine him further. Emma looked back at him; his puzzled eyes still followed her, fixated upon her in almost a wild way. She looked away and sat somewhere away from them. Emma was greatly fatigued. The anxiety of the past few days now became apparent to her body and she collapsed readily into the inviting chair. Her ears half listened to the warm-hearted questions being asked her husband by Doctor Seymour. His cheery disposition was more than comforting to Emma and she felt, for the first time in days that she could finally fully relax.
Chapter 3
Despite the vast advancements in the Duke’s health, he was still weary in body and spirit. His body was still weak although his fever had broken a great deal and some colour, if looked closely, had returned to him. The wound in his chest was the worry of all five of the doctors’ minds. The fear of infection was great and was increasingly watched. His spirit, on the other hand, was low and even more worrisome than his physical being. He was guilt-ridden and anxious. Emma wondered profusely over what was racing through the contents of his mind and worn out heart. Upon discovering the atrocious truths of the distressing ordeal, Emma had thus come to understand more the stresses imposed upon her husband.
Families were faring badly in the county and riots were now part of the problems. Hungry men and angry men were igniting passions best left without spark. More so, it was left to the Duke to come up with some sort of solution and now his current situation meant the circumstances of those people were left unanswered for longer. Emma was in wonderment and acute admiration for the profound compassion driving the workings of her husband and she had taken it upon herself to help him find some solace in his incapacitation.
She met Doctor Seymour entering the Duke’s chambers just before she did. The room was quiet as her husband lay sleeping deeply. She smiled when she saw him in his tranquillity.
“Good afternoon, doctor,” she whispered a greeting.
Doctor Seymour smiled widely; his likeness of her was growing fonder every day they spent caring for the Duke.
“Your Grace, how are you?” he whispered back.
“I am well.”
“I know you have developed a strong stomach for gore and wounds but I feel I still must warn you, I am here to clean the Duke’s injury.” He held up his equipment as proof.
Emma smiled, almost giggling at his compliment. “Of course, thank you Doctor.” She paused looking over at her husband. “In fact, if I may be so bold. May I clean it?”
The sweet old man looked significantly stunned at her proposal.
“I would like to learn how to do it, Doctor,” she explained. “At least take some weight off your daily burden.”
“That is beyond kindness, Your Grace,” he smiled. “Only if you are sure?”
“I am,” she assured him.
The old man was hesitant but eventually he nodded. Once it was decided, Emma felt the nerves of her choice affect her as she followed Doctor Seymour to the sleeping figure of her husband. She sat next to him on the bed as the thoughtful doctor arranged the cleaning supplies and began to remove the bandage from his chest.
The smell hit her first. The pungent aroma of rotting flesh. Then, she caught sight of the gory pulp of mangled flesh and she felt her stomach knot tightly. She sucked in a deep breath and Doctor Seymour checked on to her.
“Are you fit to continue?” he inquired; his face full of concern.
She nodded swiftly, looking at him for
Emma smiled at the doctor; her heart fluttering with a newfound joy. She looked back at the Duke; his eyes were on her face. Emma did not know whether to feel uncomfortable or finally flattered. She smiled at him and realised he was still dazed and in the charge of his fever.
“He is still too unwell to speak, doctor,” informed the Duchess, raising herself up from his side.
He stepped aside, allowing the doctor to examine him further. Emma looked back at him; his puzzled eyes still followed her, fixated upon her in almost a wild way. She looked away and sat somewhere away from them. Emma was greatly fatigued. The anxiety of the past few days now became apparent to her body and she collapsed readily into the inviting chair. Her ears half listened to the warm-hearted questions being asked her husband by Doctor Seymour. His cheery disposition was more than comforting to Emma and she felt, for the first time in days that she could finally fully relax.
Chapter 3
Despite the vast advancements in the Duke’s health, he was still weary in body and spirit. His body was still weak although his fever had broken a great deal and some colour, if looked closely, had returned to him. The wound in his chest was the worry of all five of the doctors’ minds. The fear of infection was great and was increasingly watched. His spirit, on the other hand, was low and even more worrisome than his physical being. He was guilt-ridden and anxious. Emma wondered profusely over what was racing through the contents of his mind and worn out heart. Upon discovering the atrocious truths of the distressing ordeal, Emma had thus come to understand more the stresses imposed upon her husband.
Families were faring badly in the county and riots were now part of the problems. Hungry men and angry men were igniting passions best left without spark. More so, it was left to the Duke to come up with some sort of solution and now his current situation meant the circumstances of those people were left unanswered for longer. Emma was in wonderment and acute admiration for the profound compassion driving the workings of her husband and she had taken it upon herself to help him find some solace in his incapacitation.
She met Doctor Seymour entering the Duke’s chambers just before she did. The room was quiet as her husband lay sleeping deeply. She smiled when she saw him in his tranquillity.
“Good afternoon, doctor,” she whispered a greeting.
Doctor Seymour smiled widely; his likeness of her was growing fonder every day they spent caring for the Duke.
“Your Grace, how are you?” he whispered back.
“I am well.”
“I know you have developed a strong stomach for gore and wounds but I feel I still must warn you, I am here to clean the Duke’s injury.” He held up his equipment as proof.
Emma smiled, almost giggling at his compliment. “Of course, thank you Doctor.” She paused looking over at her husband. “In fact, if I may be so bold. May I clean it?”
The sweet old man looked significantly stunned at her proposal.
“I would like to learn how to do it, Doctor,” she explained. “At least take some weight off your daily burden.”
“That is beyond kindness, Your Grace,” he smiled. “Only if you are sure?”
“I am,” she assured him.
The old man was hesitant but eventually he nodded. Once it was decided, Emma felt the nerves of her choice affect her as she followed Doctor Seymour to the sleeping figure of her husband. She sat next to him on the bed as the thoughtful doctor arranged the cleaning supplies and began to remove the bandage from his chest.
The smell hit her first. The pungent aroma of rotting flesh. Then, she caught sight of the gory pulp of mangled flesh and she felt her stomach knot tightly. She sucked in a deep breath and Doctor Seymour checked on to her.
“Are you fit to continue?” he inquired; his face full of concern.
She nodded swiftly, looking at him for
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