“You're finally home," Eloise said, stopping abruptly at the top of the stairs to catch her breath. It appeared that she ran straight from her room, where she, without a doubt, watched as Edwina exited Lucas's carriage from the window.

Eloise waited impatiently as Edwina made her way up the stairs before grabbing her arm and pushing Edwina towards her room. She shut the door behind them.

"Tell me,” Eloise said, spinning around to face Edwina. “Who was it last night?”

"Lord Greymoor." Edwina decided to tell Eloise the truth, or as much of the truth she was willing to share. It was unavoidable as Eloise had seen Lucas's shadowy figure abscond into the night soon after the trellis collapsed.

Eloise's eyes lit with excitement. "Dr. Blakeley. He was the one you were with the night of the assembly. I knew it!"

"Hush!" Edwina pulled Eloise deeper into the room. No telling if Hyacinth had her ear pressed against the door on the other side. The youngest Bridgerton sibling was a renowned snoop and possessed an uncanny mind. She was eavesdropping when Prince Frederick proposed to Daphne two Seasons ago. She had then correctly predicted that Daphne would marry Simon and then Anthony would marry Kate. Edwina didn't need Hyacinth being a busybody in her own life. It was already getting far too complicated.

Lucas asked her to find him a wife in exchange for teaching her medicine. Edwina's heart sank at the thought.

"Whatever was he doing here so late? And in your room no less? And, why were you with him now?"

"It isn't what you think," Edwina added quickly. Though, Eloise was oddly naive about what occurred between a man and a woman, so Edwina had no notion what she really thought occurred between her and Lucas. Most likely no more than what she thought occurred between her and Theo.

Edwina cleared her throat. "He brought me a book." She reached into the drawer of the escritoire and took out the copy of the Fabrica and handed it to Eloise. The younger woman opened it and peered curiously at the contents.

Her eyes passed over the numerous images of the human body in various stages of dissection. "It is a medical tome."

"Lord Greymoor has agreed to teach me medicine. To become a surgeon."

Eloise’s eyes widened with surprise and delight as she passed the book back to Edwina. "That is wonderful! How did it come about?"

Edwina confessed all about the night of the assembly, about being attacked by footpads, about stitching up Lucas afterwards. She left out the kiss that occurred that night. And she certainly left out what occurred the night before.

She wasn’t surprised by Eloise’s exuberant reaction. Half the conversations she had with Eloise revolved around the unjust limitations of women, particularly of ladies. Since the night of the assembly and the subsequent raid, Eloise was wise enough to stay out of danger and focused her attention on attending literary salons instead. They were held by prominent, progressive ladies of the ton , including the Marchioness of Southbury, Lady Ingrid Sutton, who was a dear friend of Eloise’s idol and advocate of women’s rights, Mrs. Lilith Reynolds.

“I envy you. To think, you are to become a surgeon, though the thought of all the blood repels me.” Eloise wrinkled her nose. “I presume this is a secret from Kate and Anthony.”

“Yes, I am certain they will not allow me to study under Lord Greymoor.” Unfortunately, subterfuge must be employed. Edwina loathed to lie to her sister and brother-in-law but she could see no other way.

Edwina sat on the edge of her chair, running her finger down the cracked leather spine of the book in her hand. “I am to meet Lord Greymoor tomorrow morning to begin my studies. The problem is how am I to travel to Covent Garden without Kate or Anthony or anyone else in the household suspecting?"

"Do you still have any of your pin money?"

"Yes, of course."

Eloise's blue eyes twinkled. "Then, I will need to introduce you to our footman, John."

***

Lucas had sent a note to Spencer to inform him of the change of plans. Instead of meeting at a Greymoor House in the morning, they would meet at Mrs. Bagwell’s per their usual arrangement before Lucas moved to Grosvenor Square weeks ago.

Spencer arrived at the coffeehouse ten minutes before six with his valise. He was dressed in black, as was Lucas, the uniform they wore whenever calling on patients. He caught sight of Lucas in the corner of the busy shop and smiled as he wound his way through the other patrons. His bright red hair contrasted the gloom of the morning.

Covent Garden, much like other lower class neighborhoods, began their day early, even before the first cock's crow. In the summers, people rose to take advantage of the coolness of the morning light to set up their stalls in the market that lined the streets of Covent Garden. In the winters, even with snowfall, they set up their stalls before the sun rose with the mindset that if they did not sell their goods, they would have no coal for the stove, no food on the table, and no coats or boots for their children. And, more often than not, they could not sell enough to cover all three.

"Good morning, Dr. Blakeley," Spencer said, dropping down into the empty seat across from Lucas. He ordered a cup of coffee and a large, glazed roll that he wrapped and tucked away in his pocket when it arrived at the table. The coffee he would consume now. The roll, Lucas knew, he saved for his mother when he returned home at noon before he rushed off to the college for afternoon lectures. Spencer was a man that loved his mother and siblings. Ever since his father abandoned his family and sailed to America for promised opportunities, never to be heard from again, Spencer took over his father's role in the family. He became both brother and father to his younger siblings and the breadwinner of the household. And, at the tender age of ten, he only knew of one method to support his loved ones.

The first time they met, Spencer was attempting to pick Lucas’s pocket. Lucas noticed the deftness of the boy’s hands, and, more importantly, the sharp intelligence in his eyes, and employed him as an assistant before taking him on as an apprentice years later.

"I must rely on you again to take on the bulk of the patient's list this morning," Lucas began. Spencer looked up from his coffee inquiringly. "As you know, you will be leaving for Oxford at the end of the month. There is not much else for me to teach you."

In the past few days, due to the demands of his newly acquired title, he had to relinquish much of his medical work to Spencer. It ended up being a fortuitous change, as it allowed Spencer the freedom to practice without being subjected to Lucas's critical eye. Furthermore, based on Spencer's own reports, the patients turned to him more when Lucas was not present. These were his people and after he completed his studies at Oxford, Spencer intended to return to the slums and set up a practice amongst them.

The boy was more than ready to be on his own.

"Sir?"

"I've taken on a new apprentice. Miss Edwina Sharma."

Spencer looked surprised, but said nothing. It wasn't his place to question Lucas's actions, but Lucas could see the young man's face lit with unvoiced consternation.

"Go ahead, Spencer. It is always better to speak one's mind than to not speak at all."

"Is it wise, sir? Miss Sharma, from what I recall, is a lady. Wasn't her sister the one we treated several months back at that nob's manor?" Spencer often forgot that Lucas was now a nob himself. He'd only known Lucas as Dr. Blakeley since he was a child and Lucas never bothered to correct him since inheriting the earldom.

"I do not expect her to last long. Perhaps, not even half the morning. I would even wager a crown that she does not appear at all. The lords and ladies of Mayfair are not accustomed to rising before noon."

"I will take on that wager," Spencer said with a mischievous grin.

"I know for certain you do not have a crown to lose."

"I won't lose." Spencer nodded to the doorway where an unmarked coach had pulled to a stop in front of the coffeeshop. They watched as Edwina descended the steps.

Damn. Why was it that whenever Edwina was involved, he was proven wrong time and again?

Lucas shook his head with disbelief and reached into his pocket. He dropped the coin into Spencer's open palm. They both stood as Edwina approached their table. She looked slightly uncomfortable amongst the press of laborers on their way to their worksites, but Lucas was certain it was due to the size of the crowd and not the makeup of its people.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Edwina said. She wore a simple lilac cotton dress that Lucas recognized as a maid’s uniform from Bridgerton House. Her hair was unadorned under the white mob cap and tied up into a neat bun that sat at the nape of her neck. It was the plainest he had ever seen Edwina and he found the simplicity surprisingly arousing.

Spencer looked at Lucas oddly and Lucas realized he was standing there gaping at Edwina. He collected his wits.

“Miss Sharma, may I present to you Mr. Spencer Smith, my apprentice.”

“Former apprentice,” Spencer replied cheekily as he shook her outstretched hand. “Welcome to the practice, Miss Sharma.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spencer.” Edwina eyed Spencer curiously. Lucas knew women considered Spencer a handsome man, with his unruly red hair and green eyes the color of fresh spring grass. The Cyprians always called out to him as he passed by as they were trying to solicit his services and not the other way around. And, with the amiable nature that was surprising in one that was born with nothing but generations of oppressive poverty, Spencer would wink back goodnaturedly causing whores jaded in their years to twitter behind their hands like fresh-faced schoolgirls.

Both Spencer and Edwina were near the same age. If Spencer had been wellborn, he would most likely be escorting Edwina about town in a phaeton and a matching pair of geldings.

“Have you broken your fast?” Lucas asked brusquely, interrupting his thoughts and the rise of clawing jealousy that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Resentful of Spencer? Just because Edwina passed him an appreciative glance?

Edwina hadn't, but didn't want to admit it out loud. She was nervous with excitement and the butterflies in her stomach wouldn't calm down enough for her to steal a slice of bread from the kitchen before she met with John in the mews. Now, she regretted the decision as her stomach rumbled at the sweet scent of cakes and the acrid smell of coffee.

"You did not," Lucas deduced. He waved towards the counter and ordered two hot crossed buns. "Do you prefer tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please." Edwina settled in her chair. "But, shouldn't we head out to the patients?"

Lucas shook his head. "Not on an empty stomach. You will need all your energy today and if we have to spend a few minutes as you eat, it is far better than me carrying you home after a collapse."

Spencer hid a smirk behind his cup of coffee. Lucas turned his attention to Spencer. "You, however, I know are well satiated from your breakfast and may go."

Spencer stood, not in the least bothered by Lucas's dismissal. "Miss Sharma, it was a pleasure. I am sure we will meet again soon." He turned to Lucas. “I will see you at the college?”

Lucas nodded. A woman, middle-aged, with her dark brown hidden under a white cap brought over the two buns on a cracked, but clean plate, and a mug of coffee and set both in front of Edwina as Spencer departed. Edwina picked up the bun and bit into it. Her stomach rejoiced as the sweetness of the crust melted on her tongue. She washed down her bite with a sip of coffee and tried not to wince at the bitterness.

“The Royal College of Surgeons?” she asked.

“I have a lecture at noon.”

“May I attend?”

“Unfortunately, women are not allowed at the college.”

“On what grounds?” she demanded.

“The normal arguments, I presume. That the science is beyond the grasp of a female’s limited intelligence. That women would distract the men from their work. Now, do not be irritated with me. I wholeheartedly agree with you that it is a travesty.”

“You agree that women should be surgeons too.”.

“I concede that if more people, women included, are more knowledgeable about health and wellness and how the human body operates, then it will improve the welfare of society as a whole. I never said that women cannot become surgeons or physicians. It is that, at this time, it has yet to be done.”

“Maybe I will be the first,” Edwina said. Oh, how lovely it would be to become the first female surgeon and to rub Lucas’s nose into that fact. The thought filled her with malicious glee.

“My issue with you is not whether or not women should be allowed to practice medicine. My issue is that you will not take this seriously and it is, and I am not exaggerating when I say this, a literal life-and-death profession.”

“This is not a flight of fancy, Lucas. I suppose you would say that being a surgeon is your calling in life. Well, why can’t it be mine too? When I stitched you up last week, I felt something. I cannot describe it in words other than it felt right.” Just as it felt right to be with Lucas no matter how one minute she wanted to throw herself into his arms and the next she wanted nothing more than to beat him senseless.

Or, to kiss him senseless.

Not now, Edwina, she admonished herself as she took too large of a bite from the sticky bun.

Lucas continued on unaware of her internal struggle. “Well, today we will test your mettle for the profession. I sent Spencer off with the bulk of the patient load, but we will be visiting Mrs. Emily Cartwright this morning.”

“Only one patient?”

“Mrs. Cartwright is a mother of seven. She recently gave birth to her most recent child, a girl, Betsy, a little over a week ago and her labor left her weak and unable to work to support her children. The other children have various ailments due to the lack of proper nutrition and living in such close quarters. The spread of contagion is quick and relentless. I am certain more than one child will be ailing.”

“Where is her husband?”

“She has none.” Edwina’s eyebrows rose at that statement, though she continued to eat. “The man she resides with, whom she adopted his name though from my understanding they are not legally married, is Mr. Henry Cartwright and a ne’re-do-well. He drinks away most of the family’s coin.”

“The bastard.”

Lucas smiled at her curse. “Indeed. We cannot change Mrs. Cartwright’s circumstances, but we can assist in any way possible. If you are finished, we will be on our way.”

To Edwina’s surprise, she was indeed finished. Both buns had vanished during their conversation and the mug sat empty.

Lucas handed her an empty basket.

“What is this for?” she asked as she took it from him. It was a plain, wicker basket like the ones she’d seen the flower girls use when selling their small bundles of wilted violets, lavender, or the odd rose.

“Proper nutrition is always the first step towards a healthly life. And, you will soon learn, it is a rarity in these parts. Most people sustain themselves on plain porridge or vegetables boiled to the point of mush. Lack of nutrition causes the children to grow up weak and frail or not at all.” Lucas picked up his valise and another basket, though this one was filled with baked bread and small sachets of tea and coffee grounds most likely provided by Mrs. Bagwell.

Lucas held the door open for Edwina and she stepped out into the crowd swarming the streets. When John had pulled up in front of the coffeehouse, Edwina noticed a number of market stalls lining up and down the streets.

Lucas didn’t offer her his arm, but paved a path through the crowd until they found themselves before a stall of vegetables. Lucas greeted the woman behind the boxes of fruit and vegetables and Edwina listened silently as they exchanged pleasantries.

Edwina was glad that Eloise had the forethought to borrow her lady’s maid’s extra uniform for Edwina’s disguise. Sophie had looked askance at the request, but relented with a promise from Eloise to give her a full day off on Sunday instead of her usual halfday.

Edwina blended into the crowd perfectly as a number of shoppers wore different colored uniforms assigned to the different Mayfair households. Cooks with their assistants, the odd maid and footman, populated the streets with other commoners, each filling up baskets of freshest fruit and vegetables available that morning.

Lucas turned to Edwina as the seller left to assist another customer. “Though there hasn’t been much research on the science of nutrition, the general consensus is that the fresher and more varied the better. We can rely on folklore instead of proven medicine.”

“Such as consuming carrots can help improve your eyesight?”

“Precisely. We do not know for certain if that is accurate, but generations of passing down home remedies, testing it, if not formally, has suggested that there are benefits for specific vegetables.” Lucas picked up a bunch of bright red radishes. “Did you know that sailors used these to prevent scurvy?” He placed the radishes within her basket. “And, these onions were once hung above doors to ward off the plague?”

“And it worked?” Edwina asked skeptically.

“I doubt it, but ingesting it appears to have many other health benefits. Dorset believes that the turmeric powder from India is beneficial for the body. That it can reduce inflammation.”

Edwina nodded. “We were told as children that turmeric root is a sacred plant. The powder will bring prosperity. The yellow color is associated with the sun and brides often apply it to themselves before they are wed to purify their bodies.” A slight depression passed over her as she thought back to the haldi ceremony she performed with her mother and Kate before her wedding to Anthony. It was a brief, happy moment that was to be dashed into pieces less than a day later.

"How old are you?" Lucas asked as he paid the woman behind the stall. As they spoke, he had filled up the basket until it was full. Besides the radishes and onions, Lucas added a head of cabbage, several carrots, and a small bushel of apples. Edwina shouldered the heavy weight, not daring to complain or show any signs of weakness.

"Twenty," Edwina replied. "I am old enough."

"Certainly. Spencer is of your age. And, I started far younger than you when I began my apprenticeship."

Edwina looked at him curiously. "How old were you?"

"Fifteen. A trial by fire. My mother's arm broke. The village surgeon came to treat her. He fascinated me. Before him, I did not know there could be men not like my father."

"How so?"

"Men that cared about people, about women. He showed me another world could exist outside of my father's narrow mindset. I knew then that I wanted to become a surgeon.” He paused, a welling of uncomfortable emotion rising within him. He tried to shake it loose. “Come, we have one more stop before we visit Mrs. Cartwright."

***

Lucas used his body to shield Edwina from the worst of the crowd as they exited the marketplace and down a quieter street. He did not know why he told Edwina about the reason behind becoming a surgeon. He never disclosed information about his past, particularly about his family. He rushed on in agitated steps.

“Lucas. Stop.” Edwina hurried along to catch up to him.

“What is it?” he snapped.

“I am sorry.”

Lucas looked down at Edwina and saw the grief on her face. His heart thudded uncomfortably. He knew what she was trying to say, what he didn’t want her to bring into the light.

“I am sorry that your father was such a cad. That he made your childhood a torment.”

“No, my father was not a cad. You do not understand. You will never understand. He was a monster. And he made my life, and that of my mother’s, a living hell. I do not need your sympathy, Edwina. The man is gone, dead these past ten years.” Lucas hadn’t felt this exposed since he was child. He swallowed hard, trying and failing to repress the turbulent emotions that he thought died long ago.

“It is all right,” Edwina said, setting the basket on the ground. She approached him as if he was an injured, rabid animal-tentatively with her arms outstretched. Lucas froze with fear and longing. Edwina drew him into an embrace. Lucas stood stiffly and willed himself not to weep. He felt the young boy he once was, frail and weak with fear, claw inside him, demanding to be released, to fall into Edwina’s soft curves and to take what she was willing to give away.

Comfort.

Love.

Instead, he dropped his valise and basket and pushed Edwina hard up against the wall of the alleyway and settled between her legs. He tilted her face upwards. “Don’t,” he said, his breath harsh with pent up emotion.

Edwina’s eyes searched his for a moment, uncertainty being replaced with a conclusion that Lucas couldn’t begin to guess at, before she pushed up on her toes and kissed him. Lucas fell into her as a man starved. Because, he knew, deep down, there was a part of him that had been dying until Edwina came into his life.