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And he seemed to be able to displease her so easily.
However, her blush ever at the ready told him she was not completely unaffected by him and his remarks. She was also the only female in his memory who did not respond to him. Certainly not in the way he would like her to respond.
He turned his head to stare out the window. He should probably just leave her alone. Get well, leave, and return to his life. Never see Dr. Rayne Stevens again.
Edwin hated how this short spell with the sour Dr. Stevens made him look closer at his life. He didn’t want to examine his life. That only brought on memories and pain. The brandy masked it. The card games and horse racing and depraved house parties chased it away.
But the guilt never truly remained hidden. The only time since he’d moved to Bath had he felt anything besides content with his life had been when he’d recognized a well-known London courtesan’s daughter in Bath. He’d insulted her, and then like the scoundrel he was, made her presence known to those who had no need to know.
Miss Lottie Danvers, now Mrs. Carter Westbrooke was a lovely young lady who had not deserved his derision. To think he had the nerve to criticize her to Carter when the enraged man came to his house in defense of his betrothed. With the lifestyle he engaged in, and his own dissipation that Carter had witnessed that morning, only added to his pile of guilt.
He had been damned lucky Carter had only delivered a few well-placed punches and an admonition to never again speak of Miss Danvers. He would never forget Westbrooke’s words. If anyone offers an opinion to you about Miss Danvers, or solicits your opinion, you will say nothing except flattering things about her. You are to become her champion. Is that understood?
Annoyed at being awoken so early in the morning after a night of revelry, Edwin had agreed. I will say nothing disparaging about the lady. If I meet her on the streets, or in a shop, or in church, I will treat her with the utmost respect.
The memories washed over him. It seemed he was destined to insult and disappoint good young women. Now he guessed he could add Dr. Stevens to the list of women he’d alienated. But nothing would surpass what he’d done to his sister.
Bugger it. Life was damned unpleasant without the glow of brandy.
* * *
“Up you go, my lord. Dr. Stevens ordered me to bring you outside to the garden for some fresh air.” Walter stood next to Edwin’s bed. The large man looked as though he needed no wheelchair to transport him or anyone else for that matter to wherever Dr. Stevens ordered.
He was well over six feet tall and probably more than sixteen stone. He’d been in earlier, after Edwin had finished his breakfast to prepare him for the day. He really should have his valet come each day since the man was most likely sitting at home doing nothing except fretting.
No one shaved him, controlled his wild hair, or dressed him like Albert. It amazed him that he hadn’t thought of that until now. He had become so ingrained in the infirmary’s routine it was like he’d forgotten his real life.
His real life. That was back in London from where he’d escaped.
Without more of a warning, Walter scooped him up in his arms as though he were a mere child and deposited him in a wooden chair with a large wheel on either side. Edwin had seen pictures of wheelchairs, but never one closeup.
It was an interesting contraption. It appeared the wheels were large enough that a person sitting in the chair could push the wheels himself. It might be interesting to have a race with a couple of them.
“No, you may not race my wheelchair.” Dr. Steven’s words as she stood in the garden, her arms crossed over her chest startled him. Had he spoken out loud?
She smiled and shook her head. “You did not say it out loud, but I could tell from the expression on your face that you were thinking a race with wheelchairs would be a fine way to break a few more bones.”
“It is lovely to see you as well, Dr. Stevens.” Since he was sitting and she standing, a situation he rarely found himself in with a woman, he offered her a curt nod.
“I will take over, Walter. Thank you.” She walked behind the wheelchair and dismissed Walter.
“I’m afraid I am much too heavy for you to push, Dr. Stevens.” He turned in the chair feeling the humiliation rise in being in such a vulnerable, weak position.
She waved him off and began to push the contraption across the smooth patio. “Nonsense. In my line of work, I must be able to lift many heavy items.”
“Including bodies?” He asked.
She hesitated for a moment. “Yes. I have done my fair share of body lifting.” She sucked in a breath and continued. “Please do not turn that statement into something that will force me to dump you from this chair and leave you here flopping around like a fish out of water.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Dr. Stevens! You have a sense of humor.”
She sniffed. “Of course, I do.”
They remained silent until she stopped the wheelchair next to a stone bench. From where they sat, he could see a folly in the garden. Edwin smiled, recalling a few heated and pass
ionate escapades in follies over the years. Dr. Stevens settled on the bench and took a deep breath. “I love the scent of the garden, no matter the time of year.”
“This is a well-kept garden. I assume with all you have to do you employ a gardener?”
