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He meant criminal types, or those associated with them. People who knew the criminal underworld of Edinburgh because they lived in it.
Even better.
“Dr. Kendrick, I am not unfamiliar with the rougher edges of Edinburgh, either in my work or . . .” She paused for effect. “Or in my personal life.”
“You mean your husband’s murder,” he said after a few moments of surprised silence.
She was impressed by his willingness to state the matter so clearly. Most people shied away from even mentioning it.
“Yes.”
“Samantha, this is not appropriate,” John said in a warning tone.
“Charitable work is always appropriate, John. And might I point out that your wife works with women engaged in prostitution.”
John scowled. “That’s entirely different. She’s a married woman.”
“And I’m a widow. You don’t get more respectable than that.”
“But I’m always with her,” John protested.
“And I’m sure Dr. Kendrick or one of his other staff would always be here with me.” She flashed him a smile. “Isn’t that so?”
“Oh, am I part of this conversation?” Kendrick asked.
She ignored his sarcastic tone. “Also, I can bring my housekeeper along with me. She’s an absolute demon of efficiency.”
John adopted a stern expression. The dratted man obviously suspected what she was up to, but she didn’t care.
“Samantha, I really don’t think—”
“John, do we want Dr. Kendrick to join our board, or not?”
“Hang on,” Kendrick said. “I haven’t actually—”
“Of course we do,” John tersely replied.
“Then Dr. Kendrick needs help, and I am willing to provide it.”
“You really wish to work in a clinic in Old Town?” Kendrick asked, still skeptical.
“I am no dainty town miss, Doctor,” she said, doing her best to look down her nose at his six-foot-something physique. “And I am not afraid of hard work. Besides, the timing is perfect. We have a board meeting later this week, and then I’ll be free to start volunteering at your clinic the following week.”
“Holy hell,” John muttered.
Samantha ignored him. “The day is getting on, so I must be off, Dr. Kendrick. But I will send my maid over with a packet of information about the foundation first thing tomorrow morning.”
Kendrick was now staring at her like she was a medical experiment gone horribly wrong. She ignored that, too. “Well, sir?”
He glanced at John, who was fuming but appeared to have conceded the battle.
“Do I even have a choice?” Kendrick asked.
“Apparently not,” John groused.
Samantha grabbed her friend by the elbow, all but pushing him toward the door.
“We’ll see you soon, Dr. Kendrick,” she tossed over her shoulder.
