Page 110 of Ghost of the Ton

She paused and looked in his direction, and he shrank back into the shadows. Then she returned to the cottage. He continued to wait until, at length, the soft orange glow of the fire glimmered from the window and a thin trail of smoke rose from the chimney. Then, overcome with shame at what he had lost—or, perhaps, she had never been his to lose—he made his way back to the castle.

It seemed as if the one act that should have sealed their union forever had driven them apart irrevocably, at the very moment when he understood how much he loved her. And now, he had a chance to prove his love—by honoring her wish and letting her go.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Lucas.”

Dr. Nimmo, a neatly attired man with hair graying at the temples, a trimmed mustache, and the faintest of Scottish burrs, rose from his desk as Mia entered his study. She found her hand enveloped in a warm, welcoming handshake.

“I hadn’t expected to see you,” she said. “I understood from the hospital secretary that you delegate the vaccination work to junior staff.”

“That wouldn’t do, would it?” he said, gesturing to a seat. “McIver told me to take particular care of you and to oversee the process personally. And I admit to curiosity. It’s not often I encounter a woman wishing to administer the procedure. But, as I’ve always said to Mrs. Nimmo, not all women are delicate orchids wishing to be preserved in hothouses all their lives.”

“Does Mrs. Nimmo agree with you, sir?” Mia asked as she sat.

He leaned over the desk and lowered his voice. “Mrs. Nimmo says it herself. Now, I assume that, as a survivor of smallpox yourself, you’re not to be the first patient to receive the vaccine.”

“How did you…” Mia began, then trailed off. Her pockmarks may have faded, but they were visible enough to have not spared her from stares and whispers during the journey to Glasgow—the perpetrators being told, smartly, by Maisie, to “gawp at something worth gawping at or I’ll have yer arses.”

The doctor smiled. “Your face is testimony to your bravery, Miss Lucas. Now, have you brought the patient with you? Given the length of your journey back to the Highlands, I’d advise delaying the application until the moment before you depart, so as not to break the chain.”

“I have two patients with me to ensure the chain is not broken, sir.”

“And where are they?”

“One is outside—the other’s waiting in the carriage. I intend to leave as soon as I’ve administered the vaccine to the first patient, then, if necessary, administer the second during our journey home.”

The doctor steepled his fingers together, then leaned back in his chair.

“McIver was right about you.”

“What did he say?”

The doctor tilted his head to one side. “Come now, surely you don’t expect me to resort to flattery?”

Mia’s cheeks warmed and she lowered her gaze. “Forgive me, Dr. Nimmo. I meant no offense.”

He let out a soft laugh. “I fear it’s I who should beg forgiveness. Dr. McIver merely said that you were one of the most remarkable young women of his acquaintance, and that the world would be poorer if your skills were not put to proper use.”

“Dr. McIver is too kind.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, though I’ll admit that the praise of my good friend and colleague is enough to introduce a little prejudice in your favor. Now, you say the first patient is outside?”

“Yes, sir. Sh-she wouldn’t come in.”

“Why ever not?”

“She wasn’t sure whether you’d be willing to admit her. You see, she’s a…” Mia hesitated.

“A what? A servant? A milkmaid? I’m not discriminatory when it comes to my patients. And you’ll understand that, given the nature of the vaccine, most patients I use as a source are milkmaids.”

“Of course, sir,” Mia said. “I’ve read Dr. Jenner’s paper on the subject. But Maisie is a…”

She paused. Ought she be honest and risk expulsion, or tell a falsehood for the greater objective?

“Ah.”

One little word—not even a word, really, but it conveyed the doctor’s understanding. He regarded Mia with his frank gaze.