Page 52 of Only Pleasure Will Do

“I’m sorry, lovie,” she croaked then swallowed painfully “Mama’s neck was hurt, but it will be better soon.” Fortunately, they’d bought a colorful scarf she’d managed to wrap around the wound, now ugly and discolored with bruising. Thinking how much worse it could’ve been, she clutched the child tighter. Pearl squeezed back and relaxed. Amorina could not imagine greater content than to have her daughter safe in her arms.

“Are we going home now?” The child yawned and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.

With a nod to all the spectators, who immediately returned to their business, Reginald shepherded Amorina and Pearl back to the waiting carriage.

“Not home yet, my love. We’re going to stay with a friend of Mama’s for a little while instead. Mama needs to rest and get better. Then we’ll see about taking you back to Mr. and Mrs. Pugh.” Amorina bundled the child into the carriage, the seats of which had been restored. Reginald climbed in beside them and they set off for Dunham House.

Her welcome at the marquess’s house was not at all what she’d expected. She and Pearl walked into the drawing room filled with smiling faces. Lord and Lady Trevor, Lord and Lady Manning, and Mr. Morley and Lady Juliet, along with the Dalburys, all greeted her as though she were a long-lost friend.

Frightened by all the strange faces, Pearl clutched her hand and when she sat, crawled into her lap.

“What an adorable child.”

“An angel.”

“Such a beautiful little girl.”

Amorina basked in the compliments to her daughter, although she wished for a quiet room where she and Pearl could just be alone. Her daughter needed a safe place to rest and recover from the terrible experiences of the past few days. They both did.

“Madam Vestry, you must tell us what happened.” Lady Dalbury had poured tea and set the cup within easy reach. She held a cake out for Pearl, who looked at it a long moment before tentatively taking it.

“Say thank you, Pearl,” Amorina croaked and winced.

All heads in the room seemed to swivel toward her.

“Thank you,” Pearl chirped and bit into her cake.

“If you don’t mind, Lady Dalbury, Reginald can tell you what occurred.” Even talking that much hurt her throat abominably.

“Dear God.” The marchioness seemed stricken. “Of course, Madam Vestry.”

As Reginald began the tale to a rapt audience, Grayson entered and spoke to Lord Dalbury, who nodded and came immediately to Amorina. “Dr. Pritchett is here. Can you come with me?”

She nodded and rose, Pearl still in her arms.

“I think it best if this little one stays here.” Dalbury plucked Pearl from her arms. “How would you like to sit in this pretty lady’s lap, my dear?” He deposited her in his wife’s lap.

“Will you sit with me, my sweet?” Lady Dalbury’s voice was soothing and kind. “I would so like to enjoy your company for a little while your mother sees the doctor.” She held out another cake.

Pearl looked at her warily, but Lady Dalbury smiled and nodded, holding the treat out until the child took it and settled down in her lap.

“Bribery does have its uses,” Dalbury whispered as he led Amorina out of the drawing room. They headed down the corridor to a smaller room, its walls lined with books, a huge Chippendale desk piled high with neat stacks of correspondence and ledgers.

Dr. Pritchett stood beside the desk, his open bag sitting atop it. “Madam Vestry. Lord Dalbury told me what has happened. It is a miracle you’re standing before us there.”

“Dr. Pritchett, how is Jenny?” The more she spoke, the easier the words seemed to come. Her voice itself, however, had not changed from the harsh croak.

The physician winced at the sound and motioned her into a chair. “I went back to tend to her just before I was summoned here, so I can tell you truly she is well. I’ll keep checking her arm for signs of inflammation, but I think it likely that she will recover completely.”

“Thank God.” She’d had a lot to thank Him for today.

“Please have a seat, ma’am. May I?” He motioned to her scarf, and she nodded.

She’d been afraid to look at her neck. Touching it was bad enough.

Gingerly, the doctor unwound the scarf and his eyes narrowed. He muttered something underneath his breath then placed his hands on either side of her jaws, gently touching the raw scrapes from the rope. He slid his hands down her neck and nodded. “You were most fortunate, Madam Vestry. There aren’t many who escape the noose with their life.” The doctor stood back, his gaze still on her neck. “Have you tried to swallow anything since it happened?”

“Just natural swallowing. No food or drink. It…it’s very painful.”

“I am not surprised.” He drew a chair up beside her. “I suggest you remain in bed simply resting for several days. Keep to an invalid diet, soft food only. Hot tea may be soothing. I have an ointment here for your neck.” He reached into his bag and brought out a little round pot. “Apply this to the scrapes for several days. Scabs will form and then you may stop. Will you be staying at…your house?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “Lord Dalbury has been so kind as to offer me shelter here while I convalesce.” An offer she wished she could refuse, but she could not yet travel back to Pagglesham with Pearl and certainly would not allow the child to stay at the House of Pleasure. Dalbury’s invitation had been a godsend.

“Good. Make the most of it. I cannot see any permanent damage, although I’d avoid any sudden movements of the neck for the next several days. The bruising will become quite colorful, but it will disappear eventually.” Pritchett shrugged. “The scar from the rope burn may remain permanently, although it will certainly fade a bit. As for your voice…” The doctor sighed. “I have very little experience with injuries such as these. Your voice may recover, or it may not. There is no way to tell. I hope that the hoarseness will diminish in a few days if you rest your throat. If it does not…”

Grasping his hand, Amorina squeezed it and whispered, “I am alive. That is enough.”

“Just so, Madam Vestry.” He patted her hand and rose. “Just so.”

After Dr. Pritchett had left, she continued to sit alone, in deep contemplation. Her voice had been one of her great assets at the House of Pleasure, from strong and no nonsense to sultry and sensual. If it did not mend, she would need to explore other options for dealing with customers. If she even needed stay there. With Sir Peter dead, his cut of the proceeds should by rights come to her. Or she could sell the business outright, quite likely for an impressive sum. That kind of money could provide for her and Pearl, so she could purchase that small cottage and live free at last. Far away from the temptation of Reginald Matthews. No matter how much she might desire a permanent relationship with him, to dream of such a thing was mere folly. A woman with her reputation could do nothing but pull a man such as he down in the eyes of Society.

A happy enough ending would have to do for her. Anything else was still beyond her reach.