Chapter Twenty-Seven

A s if by magic, Pippa's bathroom, bearing apricot-orange decor and marble tiles, had been outfitted with a stool and a tray of shaving supplies. One of the finest soaps wrapped in elegantly folded paper sat in a ceramic dish, a glistening new blade was on the side, and there was even mint toothpowder and a toothbrush in a silk bag. Hanging on the side of the tub was an array of clean towels in various sizes and—Nick had to look twice—his shirt or was it a new one in his size?

So, this was what it felt like to have servants.

He thought about the life he could offer Pippa and the life she was used to. But doubting his decision and worrying about the consequences of his actions hurt. Not today. He'd rather cherish the day.

He picked the parcel up because he'd recognized the collar. Someone had cleaned his shirt and pressed it. It looked better than new and smelled fantastic.

The waiting bath was steaming hot, and Nick let out the tension of his muscles. He never had a less restless night, nor had he felt more relaxed.

His life had clicked into place, and he had a path now.

How he'd navigate this path, he wasn't sure. All he'd ever thought of was the practice and looking after his little sister.

But he'd declared his love to Pippa and felt elated.

It had to come out.

And her response was glorious.

He couldn't wait to tell Wendy that he was engaged.

Just before they'd climbed into the carriage, Mrs. George had whispered something to Pippa, but Nick had heard.

"Your mother and grandfather would be proud to see you seize control over your life. Love is worth fighting for, mark my words." And even Mr. George had smiled when he'd shut the door and signaled the driver they were ready to depart.

"I expected them to threaten a scandal," Nick said when they were finally alone. "They must know that I'm nothing."

"They are the last loyal servants left from my grandfather's time, Nick. They know that a gentleman can earn his station regardless of whether or not he's born with it."

Nick didn't fully understand the compliment, but he appreciated it regardless. Pippa seemed changed since their night together, as if she'd come into her own. He loved it because it meant the woman he loved radiated happiness thanks to him, and she was somehow more at peace with herself than ever before.

*

In the early evening, Nick and Pippa's carriage pulled up in front of 87 Harley Street. Pippa fumbled with her hair and tugged at the scarf wrapped around her shoulders.

"You look lovely," Nick said as he kissed her on the tip of her nose. She playfully scrunched her nose, and her glasses slid down. She pushed them back up with her index finger, and Nick's heart lurched. This was his woman, his love. She was smart and beautiful, wealthy beyond measure, wild in bed to suit his taste, and easily the best kisser he'd ever encountered. "You are a dream come true; do you know that?"

When they went inside, a commotion was underway in the back rooms of the house, and Nick gently grabbed Pippa's hand and led her to the kitchen. What he saw left him agog.

Several mismatched chairs were around the kitchen table, set with a white damask tablecloth and a small bouquet in the center, including the ones from the waiting room. A pretty white cake, expertly enveloped in whipped cream with strawberries, was on the table with a few plates and forks next to it. Alfie and Andre and a woman in a ruffled dress were seated around the table in freshly pressed shirts. Felix stood at the stove with the tea kettle in hand, and Wendy approached Nick with an expression as if she'd just been hit with an invisible club. Hooked into her arm was no other than…

"Lance?"

"Happy birthday, Nick!" His friend carefully stepped forward as soon he turned his head toward Nick. "Come here!" Lance reached his arms out, and Nick stepped into a manly hug.

He froze at first, unsure what to do. How could he have forgotten that Lance was coming for his birthday? Nick exhaled and collapsed, but then the unexpected happened. Lance tightened the hug, a brotherly and friendly sign of support. "It's so good to be together again," Lance whispered, then let go.

Oddly, it was Nick stumbling about the room even though he had his near-perfect vision. Lance was happy to see him. Despite the fact that Nick never had… he'd never even visited him.

"I should have come to visit you," Nick said in a low voice. Wendy stepped aside and gave him a look like the one their mother had when they'd brought a stray kitten home, that needed care and love but had been neglected. Just like their late mother, Wendy had a heart for outcasts and stray souls.

"You'd always be welcome with us," Lance said, gesturing toward a woman in a frilly dress. She was seated at the table but immediately rose and came to his side. She was young and had dark hair, but Nick immediately noticed her hypopigmentation when she lifted her gaze. She had a few pale patches on her face where the skin had no color. It was an inconsequential condition of the skin that didn't affect the patient's health, Nick remembered from medical school. But in aristocratic circles, it was doom. Any imperfections of the skin made a woman unmarriageable, even a harmless skin coloring imperfections like her vitiligo.

"This is Isabel," Lance said proudly, reaching for her hand. She wore an understated golden wedding band. "My wife."

Lance beamed. Isabel curtsied, seemingly adept at remaining unperturbed by the shocked expressions people had when they saw her. But Nick wasn't shocked. She had pleasant features, and when she came up from her curtsy, she showed bright white teeth and a warm smile. She was lovely.

Then why did Nick feel so bad about meeting her?

From behind him came a voice, startling him out of his stupor. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Ellington; I've heard of your treatise on cacti and have always wished to obtain a copy." Pippa.

Oh dear, Pippa was standing behind him!

"This is Lady Pemberton," Wendy said politely but with wide eyes and menacing raised eyebrows. "She's…"

Nick swallowed hard as Pippa stepped forward and reached her hand out. Lance received it gracefully and gave a kiss on her knuckles. They were in the presence of aristocrats. Three of them.

Here.

In the kitchen at 87 Harley Street.

Nick was at sea with a million thoughts and no clear direction. Then he saw Wendy's look, expectant and stern. Pippa exchanged niceties with the woman whom Lance introduced as his wife.

And then the air came back to Nick's head. Wendy chuckled.

Pippa hooked her arm into the crux of Nick's arm, and he instantly relaxed.

"You have some news to share, too, old friend, hm?" Lance gave a friendly pat on Nick's other arm. "Are congratulations in order?"

Alfie and Andre rose, their chairs screeching lightly.

"I— ahem —I…" Words failed Nick. But then Pippa tightened her grip on his arm and nestled against his body. Instinctively, his other hand found hers and laid it atop her delicate fingers. They were cool to the touch. Was she cold?

Nick turned to her, concerned for her well-being. And when his eyes found hers, she beamed at him. Her warm, intelligent eyes were miles ahead of him; she'd understood his feelings before he could see the words. And he knew right away that the world had changed. With Pippa by his side, everything would be different. And he felt whole.

"This is Lady Pippa Pemberton." Nick pulled her closer to him. "My fiancée."

Wendy gasped. Her eyes darted from his to Pippa and back.

Pippa let the scrutiny of the onlookers wash over her and lowered her gaze for a moment. But then she did her usual adorable thing: pushed the bridge of her glasses up, crinkled her nose, and smiled.

And the group burst into loud congratulations. Hugs came from all directions, and even Lance welcomed Pippa into the group.

Later that evening, over a whisky that had been a thank you gift from the Marquis of Chelmsford last year, Nick found himself alone in the kitchen with Lance. Alfie and Felix had gone to bed after the last piece of cake had been eaten, apparently a special order from the Patisserie de la Loire on Nick's birthday. Wendy led Pippa and Lady Ellington upstairs to see the guests' room.

Lance, despite his blindness, had found a way to live, to move forward. But Nick was stuck in the past, shackled by guilt and regret. He was more a prisoner of the dark than Lance ever was.

With a determined sigh, Nick realized that it was time to face Lance, not out of obligation, but to seek redemption—not for Lance, but for himself. He realized that the first step to helping Lance was to free himself from his own darkness. Only then could he hope to be the friend Lance needed.

As fear gave way to resolution, Nick felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this visit was not a specter from the past, but a chance for healing, a beacon guiding them both out of the darkness and into the light.

Odd, last night, Nick had been a guest, and his life had changed so profoundly. Tonight, he was the host and perhaps his life was going to change again.

"I hope you like her," Lance said with a lost gaze, twirling the amber liquid in his glass. But weren't any of his gazes lost? It seemed that his heart wasn't, but he was missing something else, a profound knowledge that had to do with his wife.

"She's lovely," Nick said.

Lance's eyes darted to his as if he could see into his soul far more deeply than a seeing person might. "She saved my life, Nick. She really did."

"How? Were you sick?"

"Yes and no. I'm blind, I don't need to tell you. To my parents, it's an incurable flaw. I was cast aside and sent off into the country house."

"Yes, where I sent your letters?"

"Right. And they hired a nurse for me."

"Who looked after your correspondence, too?"

"She wasn't a nurse, Nick. It was Isabel." He paused. "Apparently, she has some skin color flaw." He waved as if it were naught. For him, it was.

Nick's chest was constricted with the realization. Lance had never seen her, and yet he loved her. It was plain to see when he spoke about her.

"I finally wanted you to meet her."

"Why didn't you tell me in the letters?" Nick couldn't quite put it all together.

"She penned them for me; how could I? There were no words, Nick. She was already there when my parents locked me up in the country estate."

"Why was she there? How did she factor into your condition?"

"She's the daughter of a duke and couldn't make her debut. When my mother spoke to hers, they thought a service life was a suitable fate for a woman like her."

"Because of the hypopigmentation?"

"Yes."

"They sent her away with you to hide you both from society?"

"Yes."

Nick plopped back in his chair and set the whiskey on the table with a clang. No matter how low his expectations were, the evil in this world never ceased to surprise him. "But you're both healthy. Neither of you has—"

"We both have impediments that society doesn't want to see."

Nick puffed. "Society—" he waved grandly to mock the Ton and their haughty goings on—"has more procedures to renovate their physiques than they care to admit."

"Are you saying they're all false?"

"No, not false. That's not the right word. But people aren't flawless. Nobody is perfect. Every person needs to work on something. Just ask Felix how many debutantes come to him, and lords, dukes, earls, their wives, sisters, sons, and even simple folks come for treatment."

"Nick, I'm blind, Isabel is freckled. It's just a few dental fillings."

For a moment, a series of patients that had come and gone from Felix's treatment room with much more than a few fillings flashed before his inner eye. The most recent of the patients with extensive work done was the Earl of Langley, but he couldn't mention it. He'd never betray a patient's trust, and as much as it stung, Lance wasn't a doctor in their practice. If things had worked out differently, he would have been.

Nick realized what Lance had said.

Isabel is freckled.

He didn't know that it was worse than that. And he might never understand.

Still, this was how Isabel got her chance at love, right?

Nick tasted acid when he realized what had been on his mind. How could he be so superficial to think there was nothing more to her than her beauty? Or that a minor flaw that probably didn't even affect her health would render her unmarriageable. Yet, Lance loved her, and he was of noble heritage.

"You two would be the perfect match if society accepted you as you are," Nick said out loud before he could filter his words. "Pardon me, I didn't mean to insult—"

"Not at all. That's actually why we are here. We want your help for a chance to return to society."

"What could I do about the Ton? I'm at risk of losing the practice because I am engaged to the daughter of a duke." He didn't dare mention—even to Lance—that they were engaged without her father's permission and that he'd only recently taken her virginity and compromised her beyond all redemption. The Ton would not be his friend now, and perhaps never unless they married swiftly. It all hinged on her father. "I have no sway."

"But you have a scalpel."

"What? I'm not killing anyone for you, Lance. I'd never—"

"Operate on me."

"What? That's even worse!"

"Worse than to kill someone? How does that even make sense?"

"Well," Nick stuttered. Why was there no air in the kitchen? "Well—"

"You'd rather kill someone than operate on me? Good to know. Thank you very much." Lance rose, and the chair made such a high-pitched noise that Nick cringed.

"No!" Nick tugged at his collar and realized the top button was already open. Yet, he couldn't breathe.

Lance stood over him. "Then do it, please. Give me a chance to see you again."

That was exactly what Nick had feared. He hadn't been responsible for Lance's loss of vision. He hadn't even been in a position to help cure him all those years ago at university. But if he injured him, he'd be the one to rob him of hope forever.

"We don't even know the cause for your blindness," Nick exhaled in protest, knowing that he was about to be defeated by his sense of guilt. Lance furrowed his brow.

"That's true. I never had a conclusive diagnosis."

"See?" Nick bit his tongue immediately upon saying it. Rarely had there been a pun more clumsily uttered than this.

"I don't see, no."

"And we don't know why," Nick said.

"So, let's find out."