The Delicate Matter of Lady Blayne Read Online Free Page B

a very important man. He is much in demand.”
    “I canceled all my own appointments and business dealings in London, without proper notice, so that I could come here immediately upon reading that last letter you sent.”
    “I am sorry to have disrupted your pleasures, my lord.” Aunt Frances’ voice was crisp, her English accent more clipped than usual.
    Her tone and general demeanor only added to his sense of growing ire. He wasn’t used to waiting on others. No inferior, be it in rank or social class, had dared to keep Rear-Admiral Sir James Blayne waiting. Now, as Baron Blayne, it was unthinkable that he should be inconvenienced like this by a physician.
    It didn’t bode well for his opinion of the man’s character. It spoke of a general lack of respect for authority and decorum. A distinct laxness of discipline.
    What kind of doctor lacked the basics of self-discipline?
    What manner of commoner displayed such arrogance to the nobleman who employed him?
    He scowled. “I have traveled miles to see him and he cannot be bothered to meet with me at the appointed time?”
    Aunt Frances’ eyes widened.
    He supposed he must have spoken too sharply. He was so unused to dealing with feminine sensibilities. He took a deep breath and tried to suppress the growing agitation that beat like a tattoo in his blood. He had hoped to have some real answers about Sunny’s situation by now. “Surely, he could have had some respect for my time.”
    “Well, I suppose not many of his patients are such important barons, gentlemen with no time for their families.”
    He pursed his lips, determined not to rise to any bait. She’d preferred him to stay away. They both knew it.
    She handed him a cup of steaming tea.
    He put his hand up. “I’ve no time now.”
    Her brows, two dramatic slashes of thinning black, thickened by carefully drawn kohl, snapped together. “Surely, you can stay a little longer.”
    He shook his head then leapt to his feet. “You send word to Meeker that I want to see him here tomorrow. And he’d best be on time. Lord knows I am paying him enough that he should take pains to be punctual.”
    “But what about the matter I told you about?”
    It was James’ turn to frown. “France?”
    “Yes, she needs the change of scenery. There are many excellent doctors at that university, they can—”
    He held up a hand to forestall her. “I don’t think moving Sunny away to France, hiding her away like some unwanted relic, is the way to handle this matter.”
    Bright spots of color flared to life in Frances’ alabaster cheeks. “No one is talking about hiding her away!”
    He stared at her steadily. It never paid to restate things once a point had been made.
    “James, Sunny needs help. You don’t know what we’ve been through here.”
    He folded his arms over his chest. “Well, then let’s hear the whole of it.”
    She pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, it is a delicate matter. Something best left to the ladies.”
    “So you said in your letter.” With a last, sharp glare, he strode toward the door.
    Aunt Frances rushed to him and placed her hand on his arm. “But your mind is set against doing what is best for Sunny?”
    He stopped and glowered down. “Well?”
    “You paint the picture as though we planned to shut her away in some dark and dismal asylum. But it is not like that at all!” She spoke rapidly, her face flushing with the effort. “It is for her to rest, far away from painful memories. Dr. Meeker says if she does not have some respite from the reminders of her sha—” Frances stopped and pressed her lips.
    He raised his brows. “Her what?”
    Frances’ face took on a strained look with her deep breath. “If she does not have some rest, he says she may go entirely mad. She would no longer be Sunny, at least not the Sunny we know. And she might never recover.”
    Emotion rang in her voice. This doctor had worked hard to instill a sense of fear into Frances. Of course he