Page 33 of Ghost of the Ton

His left eyelid twitched and he lowered his gaze.

“All I ask is that you return what you took from me,” she said. “But I won’t demand immediate payment.”

“That’s just as well, lass,” he said. “It might take months before I have the means.”

“You’ll find me a patient woman.”

“And then what will ye do?”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Seeing as you’re so eager to rid yourself of me, I’ll return to England, to train as a doctor. I know a little—”

“Women cannae be doctors.”

“That’s what most men believe,” she huffed. “Fortunately, Dr. McIver has a little more wit than the rest of your sex. He’s taught me enough to understand what ails your mother, for example.”

“I’ll not have ye interfering with Ma’s illness,” he said. “But if ye are to remain here at my expense”—he held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest—“ye cannae spend yer days languishing in idleness and frivolity. We’ve no time for pampered ladies here.”

This time her laugh was genuine. “I take it you knew very little of the Honorable Aurora Young.”

“She had a dowry,” he said. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“So did I,” Mia said.

Heavens! She’d thought her wastrel cousin was the worst of all men, but the giant sitting before her, who seemed intent on insulting her in every manner possible, had earned that title ten times over.

Mia rose to her feet.

“I haven’t dismissed ye yet.”

“I’m not your servant!” she retorted. “I am your guest until the matter is resolved. But do not fear. I am not afraid of hard work, and I can…”

She paused, recalling the pain in Lady MacLennan’s eyes. Hamish’s anger was a small price to pay for championing that poor woman.

“Despite what you may think, I can alleviate your mother’s pain. I know how expensive doctors can be—particularly when they’re summoned from Edinburgh at their patient’s expense.”

He drew in a sharp breath, and she nodded.

“Yes, your mother discussed the matter with me.”

“Whatever for?”

“Perhaps because I’m a member of the family by marriage. At least until you dispose of me.” She let out a sigh. “I don’t wish to quarrel with you, sir. I’ll agree to an annulment on the terms already discussed. And, in return for your hospitality while awaiting payment, I’m willing to serve the people of Glenblath in the manner I best know how—as a physician.”

He shook his head and she leaned forward, placing her hands on the desk.

“At least let me try,” she said. “I’ll treat anyone who needs it and will ask for no payment. I can even make arrangements for the people here to be vaccinated.”

“To be…what?”

Mia gestured to her face. “Wouldn’t you want to protect the people you love against this?”

He flinched, and she swallowed her sorrow at his revulsion. Having survived smallpox, she might have gained an immunity against the disease—but would she ever become immune to the disgust of others?

“If you prefer, I can live elsewhere,” she said. “I need only a small home and enough room so that I might treat the sick. If I’m not in this castle, you’re spared the ordeal of having to look at me. Then you can ready yourself and your household for the arrival of my replacement with a clear conscience.”

He blinked again, and she caught something akin to shame in his eyes—shame and defeat. Then she straightened her stance.

“Do we have a deal, sir?”