Finding Bliss (14 page)

Bliss glared at him with critical regard. Eric chuckled and
Penelope gave a watery giggle from her spot near the corner.

“Well, if that happens, my friend, I will be the first in
the room to eat crow,” Eric confessed still doubtful.

Bliss nodded with a smirk. Penelope excused her maid and
made a few minor statements to Eric about her upcoming ball in April. She told
Eric that since she now knew there was a family connection of sorts, she would
have an invitation sent for him to attend.

“You are most gracious, my lady. Thank you,” Eric replied
simply. “Now, since I fully concur with Dr. Marks’ diagnosis, may I reiterate
his remedy?”

“He actually offered no remedy. He merely said it was to be
got through,” Penelope sighed.

Eric’s opinion of Dr. Marks changed in that moment, but he
smiled quickly and gave Penelope his advised treatment plan.

“I think you’d do well to take a week and do nothing but
rest. You are obviously fatigued, Lady Osterburg. You wouldn’t fall asleep if
you were getting sufficient rest. And if you’re up at all hours in needs, then
a little extra napping is appropriate to make up the deficit. Watch your intake
of rich, salty and sweet foods, too. That can only help. Stick to a firm
regimen and schedule and you’ll be spry again in no time.”

Eric took Penelope’s hand and bowed over it just before
turning to leave. Bliss walked him to the door.

“That was the most horrible diagnosis you have ever given in
your life. I’m seriously beginning to doubt your education was successful,” she
teased as soon as they were out of earshot.

“And I think your prediction is wishful thinking. You know,
you really should consider who it’s affecting when you say things like that. Lady
Osterburg is emotionally fragile about her aging. Even a fool can see that! Continuing
to say it is pregnancy when it’s not is cruel,” replied Eric in testy
reprimand.

“That has nothing to do with aging. Pregnant women often
weep over the most minor dilemmas. I’m not worried about her emotions. She’ll
be the happiest woman in England in less than a month. Of that, sir, I have no
doubt. You’ll rue the days you ever mistrusted my judgment.

“And as for my former inaccuracies, you should also remember
that if I ever had a failure in predicting a date or a time correctly for an
event, it was usually resolved at a similar time the day afterward. I’m human,
and many of my visions don’t come etched with calendars or clock faces!” Bliss
said angrily, mostly at herself for allowing the situation to frustrate her.

Eric stepped back to look at her with an expression of
disbelief.

“What?”

Bliss realized she had never shown him the temper she
usually had no trouble controlling. She saw a ghost of a smile tempt to dimple
his cheek for a moment. The emotion vanished as abruptly as it had arrived.

“Nothing. I just don’t believe I’ve ever heard you utter the
word ‘visions’ when referring to your strange intuition before. Tell me, Bliss,
do the visions come or do you fashion them to suit your desires? Perhaps your
suggestions allow the ideas to take root and that somehow brings about the acts
or consequences anyhow,” Eric countered, his tone awash with sarcasm.

“However it happens is of no concern to you. It would make my
life so much easier, though, if you could learn to trust me. It would really
move things along more smoothly,” said Bliss with a sigh.

Eric shook his head and began pacing the foyer. Bliss
watched him carefully, not wanting to disrupt the scene. It was a tense three
minutes for her.

According to her most recent vision, chances were fifty-fifty
whether Eric might kiss her again. But as if she were expecting it, Eric
suddenly turned and gave her a wordless stare of utter astonishment. Then he
took three steps back from her, nodded his head so curtly it wouldn’t have been
noticeable to anyone not expecting it, and murmured goodbye as he left in a
manner suggesting panic.

Bliss didn’t go to the door to look out after him. She
merely sighed and returned to the sitting room to assist Aunt Pen in catching a
reluctant embroidery nap.

Eric, from Bristol to London and
back, Late March 1811

Having avoided Bliss for more than a
week, Eric decided to go to London. It was clear that if he stayed anywhere in
her vicinity he could not avoid seeing her. Every time he came near her,
thoughts of wanting to strip her naked and kiss every square inch of her
assaulted his willpower, his judgment, even his sanity!

He knew he’d go mad if he stayed within walking distance of
her. After all, it was nearly impossible to avoid running into someone with an
impeccable sense of foresight. The decision to go came when Eric crossed paths
with Lord Osterburg.

The man introduced himself, saying that somehow his niece knew
they would see one another. The man seemed more uncomfortable about that than
Eric, which was saying something. Eric asked how long Bliss would continue to
stay at Whisper Chase.

Lord Osterburg nearly dropped his coffee. After spluttering
and wiping his forehead with a table napkin several times, Lord Osterburg
cleared his throat.

“Ahem, Uh, Lady Bliss is staying through the post-Easter
Ball to help my wife organize it. She’s been suffering a lot these last few
months. Honestly, I don’t understand it. She went from being vibrant and lively
less than a year ago, to being like a worn-out dowager in less than five
months!

“I’ve been asking her to seek medical advice oftener than
she likes, too. I suppose my interest is selfish, though, doctor. It’s
difficult when your personal intimacies go from being heady and spontaneous to
non-existent, if you get what I mean?” Lord Osterburg’s hints that his wife had
sworn off physical lovemaking weren’t uncommon in husbands with wives reaching
the cusp of being past their prime.

“Don’t get me wrong, sir. I would never pretend to say a
word to your private relations. But you might consider the physical changes in
a woman whose body is moving into a new chapter. It’s a very difficult time for
them. Not unlike a pregnancy, if you know the truth,” Eric replied cautiously.

“Well, that’s the strange part. She was always such a
willing and adventurous lover, except for her bout with illness last
summer—which was a little before these issues began. She was dreadfully sick
night and day for almost a month. Then she felt some better, but her appetite
didn’t recover.”

Lord Osterburg’s description gave Eric a tingly feeling in
his chest. The sound of the symptoms put that way suggested something a bit
more sinister than aging, and that made him nervous for Bliss’s diagnosis for
some reason.

But then he recalled how robust Lady Osterburg had looked
and thought perhaps it was just an exaggeration that she wasn’t eating well
according to her husband. Suspending judgment for the time being, Eric listened
more attentively as the older gentleman continued his testimonial.

“Then she was normal or more so around November and
December! I’ve never seen her so ... er, never mind. But following that she has
begun a steady decline in health. It’s been pointed out by many of her friends
to their husbands. They’re worried, which has me worried as well. So I suppose
unloading this in your lap is unfortunate, but perhaps I just figured you could
give me some hope, Dr. Benchley,” Lord Osterburg finished speaking with genuine
tears in his eyes.

“Sir, I saw no glaring signs of any real illness when I examined
her a week ago. She just needs to allow her body time to rest, Lord Osterburg. Many
women are reluctant to accept that their body requires a different schedule at
first.

“She’ll come around eventually and be just like her usual
self when she does. If this continues for more than a month, give me a shout,
and I’ll do a more thorough examination to see what we can discover at the root,”
Eric assured him.

As Eric got up to go, Lord Osterburg asked if Eric would be
attending their ball.

“I’ll do my best, barring any immediate emergencies at the
hospital or with my patients,” Eric told him with a rueful smile.

“Yes, I know a bachelor’s life is full of better things than
match-making balls. My wife sincerely hopes to see our younger son settled,
though. I can’t for the life of me figure why a man of two and twenty is
desperately in need of a wife.

“I think Penelope just worries he can’t take care of himself
well enough to suit her, so she thinks a wife could do better! She actually has
Lady Bliss in mind! If anyone is up to the task of managing Maxwell, it’s her! That
girl needs something to occupy her!” Lord Osterburg said with a chuckle.

Eric nodded, and said his farewells as a sinking sensation
swept over him.

Bliss can’t marry! She’s only a girl!

Eric thought this with a dizzying sense of panic. Knowing he
shouldn’t care what she did in her life didn’t change the fact that the thought
of her with anyone, no matter how old she was, made him extremely ... angry!

The absurdity of his reaction to the news and the continued
imaginings of Bliss kissing him or sometimes kissing faceless strangers was
what pushed him to take a vacation. Eric argued with himself for a few minutes
before he’d eventually packed his trunk and set out for a long-overdue holiday.

On the way back from nearly two
weeks of bachelor’s delights in London, Eric still didn’t feel the least bit
better. He felt restless and uneasy still. He wondered where Bliss was and if
she were suffering similar issues after that kiss in his office.

Then he smacked himself mentally. Bliss was a wealthy girl
of society. There were probably dozens of men who would be in line to have her
as a bride! She was obviously out in society.

Another thought came as he continued to ruminate on the
subject of Bliss. Had she been as bold in her seasons of balls and parties as
she’d been on that examination table? A tide of jealousy welled up in him,
making his hands clench into tight fists and his eyes blur with the fury he
felt.

No, if he ever saw her acting in such a way again, he would
personally force her home if he had to hog-tie her and toss her in the luggage
rack of a hack chaise to make it so. Then he laughed at himself.

I have no right to treat her like I care. I’ve never
cared so much about anyone, not since my father. What a joke it is to be
thinking that I have any say in what a duke’s daughter does!

The remainder of the ride back to Bristol was more
uncomfortable. Eric knew he shouldn’t be thinking of Bliss. But it didn’t
prevent his fantasies from invading his dreams whenever he dozed on the
passenger coach ride.

Mercifully he was alone for the last leg of the journey. One
particularly vivid dream segment just before he arrived home left him with a
need so insistent he was inclined to tip the coachman’s son an extra tuppence
to carry his trunk for him.

After the boy placed the trunk, received his coin, and
headed out on his way, Eric locked the door and took the matter in hand. Giving
in to the forbidden imaginings of the blonde, dewy-eyed Bliss, he recognized
the physical changes in her.

Bliss had filled out quite proportionally, in his medical
and masculine opinions. The shape of her breasts was extremely intriguing in
that damned chemise! Sitting there, on his examination table, ribbons holding
up the stockings, looking so sexy—Eric could have thrown her back, parted those
yellow satin bows and taken her so easily!

Every time he remembered the moment he’d seen her there, giving
off a look of innocence while radiating seduction like a sunny day, he needed
to think of something distracting. Otherwise he’d embarrass himself in public!

Now in the privacy of his home, he took less than a minute
to gain the slightest relief. But there was a hunger building within him that
no amount of self-attention would satisfy, and he knew it. And he couldn’t
begin to understand why he had no desire to seek out affection from any other
source.

Only one source would work, it was painfully clear! But she
was out of bounds, out of reach and out of the question!

His control of his behavior, usually so exemplary in his
profession, was shaken to its foundation. This was evidenced by the fact that
every time Eric saw Bliss in town he felt compelled to drag her away somewhere
alone and kiss the knowing look right off her face.

Somehow he knew that she might possibly be predicting his
moves or expecting him to act out in a certain way. Therefore his resistance to
the urges was his only defense. Giving in wasn’t an option. That would be
absurd. His only hope was that she would be going home after the Osterburg‘s ball,
and he wouldn’t have to see her again.

Eric didn’t bother with unpacking. He intended to check in first
with Dr. Stemley, who was tasked with seeing his most urgent clients in his
absence. Their offices were conveniently across the street from one another.

Eric removed his travel suit and took a quick, cold-water
rag-bath to clean the dust from the road and his recent release from his body. He
selected a new set of clothing and dressed quickly. Placing one of his oiled
aprons in his satchel, he hurried to High Street.

When he reached his colleague’s
office, Dr. Stemley told him that he hadn’t much news to tell. Lady Normand
checked in once and left as quickly as she could. Dr. Stemley joked at how she
reacted to him, a much older man than she expected no doubt.

There was a case of chicken pox in one of Eric’s youngest
client families, and one emergency from a nearby tavern required the use of
stitches. Dr. Stemley then gave Eric notes for each patient and told him he was
happy for his safe return.

Eric thanked him for his extra time in keeping his patients
cared for and turned to leave the office. He was nearly out the door when he
spotted Bliss. She was walking slowly toward the middle of the block, aiming
directly for his office door. Fortunately for Eric, she wasn’t alone. He felt
less out of sorts when there was another person involved in the encounter.