Page 65 of Scandal with a Sinful Scot

“It is possible he fabricated the entire story. However, Dr. Bevan did tell me that those gripped by an opium addiction will sink to unknown depths in order to obtain the narcotic. When I found him, Aidan was living in squalid conditions with dubious company.” Garrett would not mention the injuries, not until he heard Aidan’s side of the tale. If Aidan would even see him. To hell with it—he would insist that his nephew give him an audience.

“Blast the gossip, we can weather the storm, but what has Aidan gone through?” Julian whispered.

“Perhaps one day he will tell us. I believe it prudent that I leave for Standon immediately. Alone.” The men all protested, speaking over each other, but Garrett firmly shook his head. “We cannot swoop in on Aidan like a convocation of white-tailed eagles. But if I go alone, he may see me.” Garrett patted his coat pocket. “I have all your letters and I will leave them with the doctor, or with Aidan himself. Besides, I also need to talk to Abbie. It is private, and if she refuses my suit, I’d rather be alone for the trip home.”

“Son, while I am glad you are allowing love into your heart at last, you have not fully recovered. Even now you are pale and perspiring,” Oliver stated.

“Then I will make one concession. I will take Jonas with me. He will be a strong arm to lean on. Plus I will have Laddie to keep me company.”

“Allow me to go instead,” Riordan urged.

“You must return to Sabrina and to your occupation.” He gave Riordan a sympathetic look. “He is your twin brother. I understand the need to be there for him. Trust me to stand in your stead.”

Riordan nodded, but his devastated expression tore at Garrett’s heart. “If you will permit, I will leave with Jonas in the carriage right away. You came on your own horses and have transportation home. One day soon, when the country is rife with railway tracks and steam engines, getting about will be a damned sight quicker.” Garrett tried to lighten the mood, but the brooding men of his family were having none of it. “I cannot believe that you are allowing my plan. I thought you would all insist on coming with me.”

“Believe it or not, Brother, we trust your judgment. Riordan told me more than once that you are the rugged stone on which our family’s foundation is built. The mortar that holds us together. Never was it as true as here in this moment.” Julian clapped him on the shoulder while Riordan and Oliver nodded in agreement.

Emboldened by the touching words, Garrett would do all he could to protect those he loved. Now to head to Standon with all haste.

Chapter 21

Abbie ultimately decided to return to her volunteer duties at the sanatorium. Enough feeling sorry for myself. Besides Aidan, there were three other men in residence from various walks of life. She had thought to tell Gethin and Cristyn about Garrett’s proposal for training new physicians to treat addiction, but thought it best that it be left to him to reveal. Besides, the doctor and his daughter had no clue of her connection to the Wollstonecrafts—or Megan’s. As far as they were concerned, she’d gone to Kent to visit an old friend. They knew of Aidan and Garrett by the name of Black. It was not for her to divulge their true identity.

She had toiled most of the morning in the kitchen with a new employee. Thanks to Garrett’s generous contribution, Gethin had hired a woman to do the cleaning and cooking. Mrs. Williams already had a pot of beef stew bubbling on the stove. When the kind woman had offered her some for lunch, Abbie had politely refused, stating that she would head home for a light luncheon and return afterwards to assist with afternoon tea.

Stepping outside the rear entrance, Abbie slipped on her gloves. When she had arrived home, she should have returned to volunteering right away. The work kept her mind busy, and kept her from dwelling on her sadness. Taking a deep breath of cold air and exhaling, she headed for her small house about a half a mile away.

Not far from the sanatorium, Abbie observed a large man partially hidden by a cluster of pine trees. Never seen him before; who could he be? He watched her intently, and a shiver of warning curled about her spine. Though she was not able to make out his features, what she could observe worried her. The arrogant way he stood with legs apart, the scowl on his face. Abbie looked away from him and hurried along the lane. Slowing, she chanced a glance. Thankfully he did not follow her, but instead turned his attention to the sanatorium. Perhaps she was being too apprehensive. Regardless, she picked up her pace toward her home.

“Samuel, I will be fine. There is no need to accompany me.”

The young man held Abbie’s arm while taking in their surroundings with a wary and suspicious eye. “Mr. Garrett and the lordships would have my guts for garters if anything happened to you, Mrs. Hughes, begging your pardon. I should’ve come with you this morning. Especially since you told me at lunch of the strange man lurking about the clinic.”

“No doubt my wild imagination, nothing more.”

“Still, after you’re settled, I’ll reconnoiter the property and the woods surrounding it.”

Once they arrived at the sanatorium, Abbie introduced Samuel as her cousin, who had come to stay for a short visit, and to do odd jobs for her. She despised lying, but everyone accepted her fabrication. Gethin even asked if Samuel would like to earn extra money and take on a couple of repair jobs for him. He agreed, then ducked out to inspect the grounds.

With her duties completed in the kitchen, Cristyn asked, “Would you deliver a cup of tea and a bowl of stew to Aidan Black? I have another patient to see to.”

“Of course.” Abbie had not seen Aidan since the first week of January. She wanted to see if there had been any improvement.

Entering the room, her heart squeezed with compassion at the sight of Garrett’s nephew. In truth, there was not much improvement at all. Aidan sat in a wheeled chair, a wool blanket spread across his lap and another gathered about his thin shoulders. His hair had been cut, though it was still longer than the current fashion. Though his color had improved slightly. The sickly gray shade was now more of an alabaster white. “Good afternoon, Mr. Black.”

He did not reply, but stared at her as she placed the tray on the small table before him. Aidan regarded her shrewdly. “Have we met?”

“I was here the first few days of your stay.”

“No, that’s not it. We have met before. Did we have an affair?” His intense gaze moved over her. “You look my type.”

“From what I’ve heard, any woman drawing breath is your type.”

“Abigail Wharton. I’d recognize that tart tongue anywhere. The years have been kind; you are still lovely.” Aidan didn’t smile, nor did he act particularly thrilled to renew the acquaintance. His tone was disinterested, but he flirted nonetheless. He was still a rake, even in faltering health.

“I didn’t think you would remember me, since you were all of twelve when last we met.” She poured him a mug of tea. “Milk? Sugar?”

“No. Just give me the blasted cup. God knows what strange herbs are in this, as my Welsh keepers will not give me a straight answer. As for the damned stew, I’m not hungry.”