“Non mi ingannerai, dottor McCullom.La famiglia di mia madre è italiana.” Her bubble of laughter was like the ringing of the most sonorous of bells.You will not trick me, Dr. McCullom. My mother’s family is from Italy.This explained her dark coloring.
Ian’s eyes narrowed playfully, deciding to extend even more of a test—one close to his heart. She had responded perfectly thus far, but he wanted to see how she’d react to the next one. “Is e boireannach sgoinneil a th’ annad, ach tha mi teagmhach gu bheil cànan mo dhaoine anns an leabharlann agad.”
Her lips parted, but she had no answer for him. “Say it again,” she asked, more out of eagerness to hear the words than it was a command. His heart skipped a beat and he complied.
“That was lovely,” she breathed. “What language was that?”
“Scots Gaelic,” he replied, his eyes flashing over to the housekeeper-turned-gargoyle in the corner. It wasn’t all that long ago that the language was outlawed, along with so many other parts of his heritage. It was the tongue of his childhood, the native language of his mother. He’d been raised in the Highlands before fortune smiled upon him and he had attended school in Edinburgh.
“And what does it mean?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her rapt expression.
“‘You are a brilliant woman, but I doubt the language of my people is in your library.’” It was difficult to keep the grin off his face, especially when she laughed again.
“I like your humor, Dr. McCullom,” she rested her cheek on her hand and gazed across at him. Ian felt his heart trip once more. It had been decades since he’d blushed like a green lad, but he felt his cheeks heat dangerously in response.
He didn’t know what came over him, but he leaned forward and spoke low and slow, “Tha mi a’ guidhe gun stadadh an saoghal a’ tionndadh agus mar sin cha tàinig am mionaid seo gu crìch.”
I wish the world would stop turning so this moment never ended.
Her dark, elegantly arched brows twitched in bafflement as her mind turned the unfamiliar sounds over and over again.
“What did you say this time?”
Ian finished his cup of tea rather than translate for her. “You said you enjoyed languages, Lady Juliette; I have just given you a new challenge with which to occupy yourself while you recuperate. Now,” he added as he set the cup on the table between them and stood; “I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. With your permission, may I examine your injury?”
“Of course.” Lady Juliette shifted her skirts to give him access to her ankle. She was an excellent pupil and had done an admirable job of wrapping the joint. She’d rather scandalously foregone a stocking on that leg, but it made Ian’s examination far simpler. He noted the angry purple and yellow bruising and tender swelling, but they hadn’t spread. She did flinch as he palpated and tested the flexion, but she didn’t cry out.
“Are you taking the medicine I provided?” he asked, trying to ignore how soft and pale her skin was.
“Yes, but I’ve run low.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve brought more with me.”
“How well-prepared you are, Doctor.”
Ian gave her a small smile as he re-wrapped her injury. “You still have tenderness, but that is to be expected. I still do not suspect a break, but you will need to continue your rest.” He rifled through his leather bag and set another packet of pain powder on the table. “This has enough doses to see you through the week, but do not hesitate to send word should you require more. Many apothecaries can supply it, but I created this mixture myself and can vouch for its purity and the dosage.”?“Then I will certainly contact you should I require more. Thank you.” She averted her eyes as if thinking about her next words and then deciding to say them anyway. “I do hope Ethan wasn’t too rude to you and made you feel as if you needed to rush off.”
“Of course not,” Ian fibbed lightly. She didn’t need to know just how much her brother hadn’t wanted Ian to see her; besides, he could hold his own. It took a great deal more than a few glares and gruff words to intimidate him.
“He’s always been more than a little overprotective,” she added by way of explanation. Ian supposed he would be too if he had a treasure such as Lady Juliette to protect.
“Understandable for any brother,” Ian reassured her and bowed deeply. “It has been a pleasure, Lady Juliette. Continue your rest for this week and next. Begin your physical activity slowly and do not overdo it.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied cheekily. Ian had to look away from her smile. “Thank you again; for everything.”?“Think nothing of it,” he murmured and turned on his heel, knowing full well he’d likely never see this bewitching woman again. Ian recognized it was for the best; this attraction he felt could never be realized and would surely only bring trouble.
Chapter Three
“I’d no idea they made such attractive physicians!” tittered Fanny, Juliette’s incorrigible maid. In any other household, the girl would likely have been sacked long ago for her overly familiar manner of speaking, but Juliette had always found her amusing and the maid was a genius with a pair of hot tongues so she’d kept her around with strict instructions to stay out of Ethan’s way, lest he catch wind of Juliette’s leniency.
“Hush, Fanny,” Juliette murmured, schooling her features to remain stern…no matter that she completely agreed with the maid’s assessment.
Half of her had expected Dr. McCullom to not follow through on his promise to take time from his schedule to call upon her and review her progress; he was, after all, a very busy man. When his arrival had been announced—and he’d somehow made it past her gatekeeper of a brother!—she’d felt more than a tiny thrill at the imminent prospect of seeing him again.
Were his eyes really that captivating, or had her fanciful imagination taken over her memories?
Juliette hadn’t been disappointed, to say the least.
Then, when he’d spoken to her in all those languages…
