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“John is correct,” she admitted. “We really do need your help.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Certainly. We need a strong ally who can help us manage the old twiddlepoops on our board.”
Kendrick choked out a laugh.
“I’m sorry if my language shocks you, sir,” she said, trying not to sound defensive.
“You didn’t shock me. Please continue, my lady.”
She took a moment to formulate an answer that didnotmake her sound like a ninny.
“Our goal is to keep the school and the orphanage operating at humane and appropriate standards. That goal is often challenged by a board that is, with a few exceptions, very old-fashioned. The notion of a school that aims to properly educate young females, especially ones from impoverished backgrounds, strikes them as ridiculous. They also think that wespoilthe orphanage boys by providing a home-like establishment. It’s immensely frustrating, but there you have it. John, however, assures me that you would share our beliefs. To have another professional man on the board, especially a noted physician from one of the best families in Scotland, could make a great difference for us.”
“Plain and simple, we need another reformer,” John added. “We’re outnumbered.”
“About the girls’ school,” Kendrick said. “If money is an issue, I can always get you more.”
Samantha shook her head. “We have adequate funds. It’s how we wish to spend them. Most of the board members have no interest in providing a real education for the girls. According to them, teaching math or how to properly read is simply encouraging them to get above their proper station.”
Kendrick looked annoyed. “That’s backward and ridiculous.”
“I make that point on a regular basis.”
“They must love that,” he said with a slight smile.
“Which is why we need you. You’re a professional man, so they’re much more likely to listen to you than to me.” Samantha tried not to sound bitter about that.
“Not that they always listen to me, either,” John added.
Kendrick grimaced with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Lady Samantha. Theyshouldlisten to you. It’s your foundation.”
“Which is exactly why we need another voice and another vote,” John said. “You also know how things work here in Old Town, which makes you an even greater asset.”
Kendrick rubbed his chin. “Not everyone would see having a Kendrick on the board as an asset. We’re not exactly known for our tact.”
John waved a hand. “Oh, I’m much worse than you when it comes to that.”
“True enough.” Kendrick stared down at the floor, obviously thinking. “The clinic is my first priority, though. That has to come first.”
“Then perhaps hire another doctor?” John said in a long-suffering voice.
“What I really need is another Mrs. Culp, but women like her aren’t easy to find. She’s an excellent managerandmy patients trust her. That’s important in Old Town.”
Samantha blinked. For several minutes, a wisp of an idea had been drifting at the edges of her brain, one so formless she’d scarcely been aware of it. Now, it coalesced into sharp definition.
“I’m a good manager,” she said, “and people in Old Town know my work. They know they can trust me. I’d be happy to volunteer at your clinic, if you would agree to take up a position on our board.”
Kendrick straightened up, obviously startled. “Are you serious?”
“Certainly. I can help with your management problem,” she said with an encouraging smile.
John frowned. “Samantha—”
She shot up a hand. “It’s the perfect solution.”
Kendrick regarded her with a perplexed expression. “My patients aren’t exactly from the aristocracy, or even the merchant class,” he finally said. “Some are . . . let’s just call them people from the rougher edges of Old Town.”
