Dr. Thomas continued to monitor Marcus’s pulse until they pulled to a halt in front of the local doctor’s office and residence.
Garrett opened the door and leapt out. The wind and snow nearly knocked him over. The blizzard had worsened, and he was forced to accept the fact that he would not likely make it back to the palace by midnight.
He prayed Anne would understand, and that his father would not see it as a sign of the curse. God knows what he might do.
Thrusting those thoughts aside for the moment, he trudged through the deep snow and pounded on the door. “Is anyone here? We have a sick child!”
When no one answered, he tried the door but it was locked. He moved to the window, cupped his hands to the frosty glass, and peered inside. The office was dark and deserted. He backed up and looked at the second story window. All the curtains were drawn. “Dammit!”
Desperately he turned around to see Jameson lifting Marcus out of the coach.
Garrett glanced to the left and saw a wrought iron chair half buried in the snow. He hurried to it, tried to pull it free, but it was embedded in the ice. He kicked it fiercely until he knocked it over, then hoisted it over his head, hauled it to the window and swung hard to smash the glass.
Garrett cleared the broken shards away with his sleeve, crawled through and hurried through the parlor to open the front door.
Jameson was there waiting. “Well done, my lord.” He carried the unconscious boy inside. “Where should I lay him down?”
“Over there.” Garrett pointed to the examination table.
Dr. Thomas and Joshua hurried in behind them. Dr. Thomas took a quick look at what supplies were available, but seemed most relieved to find the grate already piled high with fresh kindling.
“This will do,” he said as he removed his coat. “Someone get a fire going. We need heat and hot water.” He studied the younger boy who stood at his brother’s side, a worried look on his face and tears in his eyes. “Child, find a place by the hearth and warm yourself while we see to your brother.”
“I’ll take care of the fire,” Garrett said. “Jameson, go and cover that broken window.”
They all quickly set about their tasks.
Chapter Sixteen
For a few brief moments that afternoon, Anne had looked outside at the snowy landscape and was tempted toward cowardice. She had thought about ordering a carriage and leaving before the ceremony could take place. But how could she give up the money? And where in the world would she go without it?
It was fear that made her want to run, plain and simple, for she never imagined she would fall so deeply and passionately in love.
It had seemed such a simple affair when Lord Hawthorne and Lord Blake presented their proposal: take part in a mock engagement, sign a marriage certificate, have relations with a man she’d never see again, accept a large sum of money, then begin a new life.
Now she sat before the looking glass wearing Charlotte’s stunning white wedding gown and wanted only to find Garrett waiting for her at the altar—with love and desire in his eyes.
The wind gusted outside the window and the sharp sleet pelted the glass. It had turned into quite a blizzard. She was thankful there were no guests scheduled to arrive. It would be a small private ceremony for members of the immediate family only.
A knock sounded at her door. “Come in!”
Charlotte entered wearing a lovely pale blue gown with silver trimmings. Her hair was swept into a loose twist on top of her head with tiny white flowers woven through the locks.
“Hello Anne,” she said as she moved to the chair before the roaring fire and sat down.
“If you’ve come to ensure that I am not late for my own wedding,” Anne said, “you will be pleased to see that I am quite ready.”
Charlotte cleared her throat. “That’s wonderful, but...” She paused. “There is a slight problem. None of us wanted to mention anything before now because we didn’t wish to alarm you, but judging by the hour, I think it’s high time someone told you the truth.”
Anne’s belly performed a rather sickening flip. “What truth?”
“It’s Garrett. I don’t know how to say this, but... he’s not here.”
Anne frowned. “What do you mean? The wedding is in one hour. Where is he?”
Charlotte took a breath. “We’re not sure, exactly. All we know is that he had a driver take him to the train station early this morning. He was headed for London.”
“London!”
“Yes, but do not despair. We spoke to Jameson before noon, and he informed us that Garrett instructed him to pick him up upon his return.”
“Did Jameson follow his instructions?”