Page 27 of Love with a Notorious Rake

“I wish to be a compassionate man who genuinely cares for the world and its inhabitants. A man of honor. A man with a heart. In other words, a Wollstonecraft. For I have been none of this, for more years than I care to count. I am selfish at the core; perhaps I always will be, to some extent. For I do this for me—to cleanse my soul. And it needs a rigorous scrubbing, I assure you. But I also do this for altruistic reasons. I wish to make a difference, as you all do in your various ways. Thank you for supporting me in this venture. I will make you proud.”

A pretty speech, and heartfelt. Cristyn crept into his thoughts, for the truth of it was he wanted to be a man she could be proud of, regardless if they never saw each other again.

Now to follow up his words with actions.

Chapter 8

Cristyn had been in Earl Shilton for over three weeks. How invigorating to be at the forefront of medical care for people who truly needed it. Using an antiseptic-soaked cloth, she cleaned the wound of the patient sitting before her. “There. Now I will stitch it for you.”

“Aye, miss,” the young woman murmured.

As she continued with her nursing duties, Cristyn’s mind turned to her new circumstances. Mrs. Trubshaw was a strict landlady, but kind in her gruff way. Cristyn welcomed the early curfew, for she was exhausted by the time she returned to the rooming house for supper.

“It is not wise for young ladies to be out and about on the streets once the sun goes down; it is not proper. You could be robbed. It is best to be safely tucked away by eight o’clock,” Mrs. Trubshaw had advised.

Cristyn concurred. Most nights Paris accompanied her, and stayed for a meal. She tried to observe any romantic undercurrents between the landlady and the doctor, for they were a like age, but Cristyn couldn’t sense any. Not like the ones between her father and the housekeeper.

Or her and Aidan.

Yes, blast him! Though she’d kept occupied, Aidan still managed to drift into her thoughts when she least expected it. The open wound ached afresh in each instance. The hurt, the lingering, throbbing pain had never left her, and she silently cursed him for it.

Cristyn returned her attention to her patient, Tessie, who had a gash on the lower part of her arm. The injury was a result of her working at the cotton mill. As she set about stitching the cut, Tessie coughed and sniffled.

“I do thank you, Miss Bevan. Mam says I’m to give you a penny for your trouble.”

Paris had instructed her early on to accept all payment, no matter how small, whether it was coin or a loaf of bread. It gave the village folk a sense of accomplishment that they had paid for the treatment.

“Thank you, Tessie. How goes work at the mill?” Cristyn found that if she kept the patients talking, they wouldn’t focus on the needle and thread.

“Same as always. Though there be a new overlooker.”

Cristyn glanced up at Tessie questioningly.

“An overlooker watches over us all, to make sure we be working hard. Reports to Master McRae.”

“Ah,” Cristyn murmured. “A supervisor.”

“Aye, that be it. I heard tell he be only passing through like. Too bad, for he is an eyeful and more, he is. Young, handsome, tall. He has all the women in a flutter, even the old ones.” Tessie cackled, but it ended in a cough. “He came three days past; not sure if he’s as cruel as the master, or…I shouldn’t be talking such. Could get me in a right fix.”

“I would never repeat anything you tell me, Tessie. You have my word.”

“Aye, I heard from others you be a good ’un.”

Cristyn tied a small knot and snipped the thread with a pair of scissors. “I’ll place a dressing over the cut. You must come twice a week to get it replaced until the stitches are ready to be removed.”

Tessie frowned. “I can’t afford no more healing, Miss Bevan.”

“This is all the same treatment, Tessie, do not fret.” Cristyn placed the sticky dressing over the wound. “There now, a good thing I’m capable at embroidery; when the stitches come out, the scar will be barely noticeable.”

Tessie chuckled.

“You should rest for the remainder of the day.”

Tessie ceased laughing. “Oh, no, miss. I must go back to work, or Master will have me replaced. I promised I’d return sharpish.”

Cristyn sighed. It was the same old story. No matter how injured or ill, the workers at the mill did not dare be sick, or they would be out of a job. “As you say, but you must keep the wound clean.”

Tessie slipped the penny into Cristyn’s hand, then departed. For the first time since eight o’clock this morning, the place was empty.