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“How do you feel?”
“Like I was hit by a runaway horse.”
She dragged a stool from the counter and sat on it. She leaned over him, the smell of roses and lavender drifting from her. Probably her hair.
She pulled up one eyelid and examined his eye, then did the same thing to the other eye. “Would you care to tell me how you ended up on my front step last night?” She drew back and studied him.
“First off, can you tell me where I am and who you are?” He tried to offer one of his famous charming smiles, but it didn’t quite make it with the pain radiating throughout his body.
He needed a drink.
“I am Dr. Stevens, and you are in my infirmary. I found you last night on my front steps, and I have reason to believe someone—I doubt a friend since the way you were left indicates more an enemy—dropped you on my doorstep.”
“I see.”
She smiled. “Do you? Would you care to tell me how you received all these bruises, Lord Sterling?” She swept her hand along his body.
Edwin tried to shift a bit, but everything hurt, so he remained where he was.
He needed a drink.
“I guess you found my calling cards.” Again, he smiled, but got no response from Dr. Stevens. He sighed. “The last I remember a few of us were racing our horses. I think mine threw me.”
Dr. Stevens crossed her arms over her chest. “Hmm. You think yours threw you? I assume you had been imbibing in strong spirits?”
“Yes. You are correct, Dr. Stevens. May I request a little bit of brandy? It will help with the pain.”
“Ah. I am very sorry to tell you that there are no spirits—of any kind—in this house.”
His brows rose to his bandaged forehead. “None?”
She shook her head, her lips in a tight line. Gone was the friendly, smiling, doctor. This woman was a beauty and truly a sight to behold. Her curves were well outlined in a very well-washed dress, covered with an apron all the way to her feet.
Her brown hair gleamed with golden highlights as the sun streamed through the window. Her clear blue eyes regarded him with intelligence. “I am afraid not, my lord. We do not permit liquor of any sort here.”
“Well, in that case, do you have a butler or a maid who can fetch some for me? I’m sure I have money on me somewhere.” Almost as if he just realized he was wearing nothing more than a loose-fitting nightshirt, he scowled. “Where are my clothes?”
“I am sorry to tell you they are useless, my lord. I had to cut them off you last night.”
“You cut off my clothes! Do you have any idea how much they cost?”
She shrugged. “Probably not. But I could not examine you without removing your clothes and since I didn’t know what sort of injuries you were suffering, I couldn’t take a chance on maneuvering you around to take
them off.”
He grinned. “Did you enjoy taking off my clothes while I was unconscious, doctor?”
She didn’t blush, didn’t squirm, didn’t giggle. She scowled. “Lord Sterling, I am a doctor, not a giggling sweet little miss you’ve enticed into the garden to steal a kiss or other things. You are in serious trouble, and I suggest you spend more time asking questions about your injuries and recovery.”
Well, then.
“If you would be so kind as to send for some brandy, I will be happy to discuss my medical condition at length.”
He needed a drink.
“My lord. Let me make this very clear. The only alcohol that will ever be on these premises is the one I use to clean my instruments and rub down the counters.”
“Fine. Please discuss my medical condition and then I will send for my driver to bring me home.”
