There was a rush of patients on at about three, and again at about six. Each time Blake was all set to write a note to Arabella, he had to put it to one side.
Finally, it was so late in the evening that there seemed little point in sending her a message that he was still at the clinic, for it would only disturb her if she was having an early night.
He sighed. He had not seen her since he'd left the ball, only twenty-four hours ago, but already it seemed like a lifetime. Little Molly had been her age…
What sort of monster would do such a thing? He couldn't wait to get home and Arabella her again. Reassure himself that she was all right, take comfort from her soothing gentle presence.
When he looked at her, all of his troubles seem to fade away into nothing. Little did he know, they had only just begun.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Arabella had not slept all night. As the hours had ticked past, with still no sign of Blake since the night before when he had left her at the ball with the Elthams, she had retired to her room, prostrate herself on the bed, and shed a few bitter tears, wondering where she had gone wrong. Two whole nights with that horrible woman…
Well, he had been quite restrained thus far, what with him having been away and then having had to chaperone her all over the place. He had taken his obligations as guardian seriously, that was for certain. He had been more than kind considering he had never asked to be saddled with a ward.
But a man was a man, with certain needs, as Blake had said. How could she blame him for doing what he needed to do? It was as natural as breathing, was it not?
But Leonore… And not her... When she loved him so?
Arabella gave up trying to sleep at four, and went down to her sitting room, where she had left her book and her embroidery hoop. She was just about to go upstairs when she heard the key scrape in the lock.
Blake stepped into the foyer. She had never seen him looking so tired. And was he drunk? For after looking at her, he went straight into his own sitting room and tossed back a glass of brandy.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine," he said shortly. "Go back to bed."
Shock caused her to use his first name. "Blake, what is it?"
"I can't even begin to talk about it. Go back to bed."
She saw his hand was shaking. Despite her anger with him and her fear over the strange way he was acting, she stepped up to him and encircled his waist with her slender arms.
He groaned as if in agony and clung to her. "Sometimes I think you're the only decent thing that's ever happened in my life," he whispered against her hair.
She would have raised her lips to his for a kiss, but he was so tired he could barely stand. She helped him onto the sofa, and threw over him one of the crocheted afghans she had made for the house.
"God, I'm so tired," he groaned. "Sick at heart. We need to get out of here. Get out of London. Somewhere where the air is fresh and clean and the sun shines."
Arabella knelt to take off his shoes and tucked the afghan up to his neck. She sat down on the edge of the sofa, in the corner, and lifted his head onto her lap. She stroked back his hair from his brow and felt it. It was warm to the touch, not feverish, but he did not look at all well. "Rest now. Things will look much better when you've had some sleep."
"I know how Michael feels, you know," he confided.
"Michael?"
"Avenel. My friend from the Army. Whenever I close my eyes, I see the most dreadful things too. From the war, from my job…"
He sighed heavily. "You're a good woman, Arabella. The best I've ever known. I want to believe you can stay that way, despite what I've done. I'm afraid your being here with me is only going to pollute you, damage you in some way.
"That's why we have to go to Somerset. I'm not sending you away, for the Lord knows how much I would miss your peaceful presence. Peter had a notion you would be good for me as my ward, and he was right. But I need to think about what's best for you. Being in my clinic and in this den of debauchery is not it."
"I would rather know of the world and avoid its pitfalls than not know of them and be ensnared," she said honestly.
"I know." He took her hand and kissed it. "But we need to go in any event. Sarah Deveril's baby will be coming soon, and the Jeromes are expecting me to visit. You won't mind staying with the Elthams at the Castle, will you?"
"No, not at all. I would be delighted."
"And a couple of days with the Stones?" he asked.
"It would be fine. I'm content here, though."
"No, I've told you. I'm sick of London. Sick even of the clinic, for once in my life."