Chapter Six

The next day, Ian returned to his offices for a late dinner after having spent his morning making house calls. His day had been filled with two cases of indigestion, one severe bout of gout, the laborious task of setting a lad’s broken arm after he’d been thrown by a horse, and looking in on a patient with dropsy. And he was worn out. His hollow stomach growled in agreement. Unfortunately, his schedule was not conducive to a man of his size and stature; he could have easily eaten twice as much as he normally did and still experience some hunger pangs, but he’d long ago learned to work through the discomfort. Keeping his mind and his hands occupied went a long way to that end.

Entering through the front door, he quickly descended the stairs to the lower level. The enticing scent of one of Mrs. Brown’s hearty stews grew stronger with every step. Ian’s mouth was watering by the time he popped his head into the warm kitchen and found the woman using her apron to fan the steam from a fresh loaf of crusty golden bread. The pot hanging in the hearth bubbled away merrily, calling to Ian with every pop and squeak.

“Smells divine, Mrs. Brown,” he said by way of greeting.

“Get on to your office now,” she shooed him away with a smile. “I’ll bring a bowl to you shortly; I know how busy you are and how little time you make for eating.”

Ian nodded, allowing her to fuss and grumble about his habits as he made his way down the hall, through the exam room, and to his private office. He quickly shrugged off his coat and draped it over the chair before sitting down. The tap of footsteps told him his lunch was imminent and he made quick work of clearing his papers to create room for the food. He’d learned long ago the hierarchy in Mrs. Brown’s mind:strictly food and then work. More than a few of his papers in the early days had been smudged by food being served atop them.

“What good is work if your belly growls so loud you cannot think?” she’d harrumphed at him time and time again.

A space was cleared just in time for Mrs. Brown to deposit a tin plate carrying thick slices of fresh bread and a hearty bowl of what appeared to be a mutton stew with a variety of root vegetables swimming in a thick, decadent gravy. The fare would not be served at any dinner parties, but, as far as Ian was concerned, it was more delicious than most. It was like a taste of home—something his mother would have made.

“Thank you, Mrs. Brown,” he said sincerely, already picking up his spoon to dive into the meal. His eyes began to skim the top paper of the stack beside the bowl. The post had arrived and a thick pile of envelopes awaited his attention. He likely wouldn’t make it through all of them before he had to leave for his next appointment, but he could at least begin the job. Perhaps he’d sleep that night at a reasonable hour.

He’d only made it through two bites of the delicious stew before the bell on the back door broke the silence.

He heard Mrs. Brown stop her washing up and stride over to answer the caller. The door was normally unlocked during business hours when Ian was home, but she’d taken to locking it for a brief period of the day to allow him time to eat. She’d taken on the role of unofficial gatekeeper.

All the doors on the lower level were open, so he didn’t have to strain his hearing to listen as Mrs. Brown advised that he was not currently seeing patients, but, if they left a card and a message, she would make sure he received it.

“Oh, I am not here for medical care…it is regarding a matter more personal in nature.” Ian could just make out the words, but they were slightly muffled. There were several more exchanges between Mrs. Brown and the persistent caller until Ian popped a bite of bread in his mouth, stood to brush crumbs from his hands, and sighed. Clearly, this caller was not taking no for an answer.

It wouldn’t be the first time a lady had been so bold as to sneak into his office hoping for a private assignation of a more intimate nature.

He didn’t bother to don his coat and strode through the office and back up the hallway where Mrs. Brown held the door only half open, blocking the gap with her body.

“My apologies, miss. As I said before, Dr. McCullom is not currently accepting callers.”

“Please—”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Brown,” Ian cut off the unseen caller and wrapped his fingers around the door. His housekeeper didn’t like it, but she nodded her head and ducked back into the kitchen to leave him to handle the situation. When Ian opened the door all the way, however, he wasn’t prepared for who awaited him.

Lady Juliette’s lips parted in surprise and then relief when he appeared in the doorframe.

Ian was not a man who enjoyed drama. He preferred a quiet existence with as little trouble as possible. If the past few weeks—especially the last twenty-four hours—had taught him anything, it was that Lady Juliette was trouble. She represented about a dozen manifestations of it for him, not the least of which was her showing up at his offices and, thanks to a glance, unescorted by her brother. Only a meek little maid fidgeted off to the side, clearly worried her employer would sack her as soon he discovered where she’d allowed his sister to slip off to.

After the way Lady Juliette had spoken to him the previous night, Ian had half a mind to allow Mrs. Brown to have her way and toss out the young woman. He might have understood her behavior if she’d been insulted or offended by his behavior on the balcony. But, if he’d offended Lady Juliette with his kisses, then why the bloody hell had she thanked him for it? It made absolutely no sense to Ian’s logical mind…and her appearance on his doorstep could spell only trouble for him.

It had taken every last ounce of his willpower to remain composed when he and the other men had rejoined the ladies in the parlor for games. Seeing the faint blush on her porcelain cheeks, catching her watching him from beneath those long coal-colored lashes of hers, witnessing the unsteady rise and fall of her breasts above the edge of her honey-yellow gown was disconcerting in the most tantalizing of ways. Lest he give himself away, he’d opted for intense civility and strict adherence to propriety. That was until he’d had the chance to spend some time with her relatively one-on-one at the chessboard. Her outburst had startled him, to say the least. But Ian was a man who had long ago learned when his presence did more harm than good. It was safer to take his leave and allow Lady Juliette to have her feelings than risk it all coming out in front of her brother. The earl had the eyes and—Ian suspected—the talons of a hawk; especially when it came to his twin sister.

Fingers tightening on the door, Ian opened his mouth to turn Lady Juliette away, but no sound came out when her eyes met his. Something stopped him—whether the memory of her taste and touch, or simple manners—and he opened the door more widely, gesturing for her to enter.

“Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly far more bashful than she’d been when pleading with Mrs. Brown to grant her entrance. The nervous little maid slipped in behind her and the door was latched once again.

“To what do I owe this visit, Lady Juliette?” he asked, cocking a curious brow. She glanced between her maid and Mrs. Brown where she stood at the kitchen table, watching with her hands on her ample hips—a formidable little gargoyle in a mobcap.

“Might we speak in your office?”

Ian had half a mind to make her say whatever it was with their audience, but, after a tense moment, he gestured for her to lead the way down the hall and into his treatment room. She told her maid to wait in one of the chairs that lined the hallway. Rather than stop, he showed Lady Juliette to his study where his repast still awaited him. He stared longingly at the food growing cold there on his desk, but it would have been rude to eat in front of her. Then again, he should have donned his coat before seeing her, so it was rather a wash. The minutes were ticking by, bringing him ever closer to when he would have to leave for his next appointment…full belly or not.

Rather than sit in the chair he hastily cleared off for her, Lady Juliette slowly perused the small space. Every available surface was covered with papers and books, medical instruments and correspondence. As meticulously clean as the rest of his offices were, this one space resembled his mind and its many directions and layers. Despite its fullness, the room was relatively well-organized. His eyes tracked Lady Juliette as she took in the neat stacks of files, the books and meticulously categorized notebooks, and even a human skull. Much to his surprise, she seemed fascinated by the artifact and even reached out to touch the smooth, knitted crest of the cranium.

Ian cleared his throat. “Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair.

She did as he asked, smoothing her blush-colored skirts around her legs. He tried not to ponder just how long and shapely those legs were beneath the layers of fabric.

Her eyes caught the food on his desk and her face unexpectedly melted into one of concern. “Oh! I’ve interrupted your luncheon!”

She had, but Ian was too much of a gentleman to admit to the inconvenience. He waved off her concern and sat across from her. “Now, what can I help you with?”

She lowered her gaze once more where her fingers toyed with an embroidered rosette on her skirts. “I—I need to apologize. For my behavior last night. It was unkind and unfair of me.” Ian sat back in the chair, waiting to see if she would continue. The pink tint to her cheeks made his heart stutter. “I admit it was silly of me to get upset when you appeared so nonplussed by our…by what we shared on the balcony while I was so flustered.” Her words continued to pour forth in a torrent and Ian listened, hardly believing his ears. Her mesmerizing eyes met his once more. “I realize I shouldn’t have held it against you—no doubt you found my abilities mediocre at best, thanks to my inexperience.” Her cheeks flared an even deeper shade of pink. “So how can I possibly blame you for being unmoved?”

Fighting back an amused grin, Ian held up his hand to stave off any further verbal onslaught. Her face was fairly aflame at that point, and he didn’t want her to combust spontaneously.

He eyed her for a moment before speaking. “I accept your apology.” She rewarded him with a bashful, if grateful, smile. “But you are sorely mistaken if you believe I was unmoved by the kiss.” Her wide eyes flew to his.

“Well, you’re certainly a fair actor,” she whispered.

Ian finally set his smile free. “Not a good actor, merely old enough and wise enough to hide how I feel when I have just kissed the beloved sister of an overly protective peer of the Realm. I do enjoy my job, after all…and breathing .” She rewarded him with a breathy laugh that caused chills to tickle every inch of his spine.

“I suppose it was a wise decision.” She said before rifling through the reticule strapped to her wrist and retrieving a small notebook. “There wasn’t the opportunity to tell you last night, but I managed to translate the first phrase you gave me, but the way.” The pride on her face was enchanting.

“Oh?” Ian sat back in his chair, recalling vividly the first Gaelic challenge he’d issued. It had been foolish to say such a thing to her, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

“ Tha mi a’ guidhe gun stadadh an saoghal a’ tionndadh agus mar sin cha tàinig am mionaid seo gu crìch. ” Lady Juliette pronounced the words passably, halting only occasionally around a particularly foreign combination of sounds. “‘I wish the world would stop turning so this moment never ended.’” A pregnant silence followed, their eyes never breaking contact. “Did you mean that?”

The truth was, he had. Being near her made him reckless, but it also nourished his soul like nothing else had in years. She warmed a part of him that had grown jaded and tired.

It was Ian’s turn to flush uncomfortably. He nodded once in reply.

“It’s lovely,” she breathed, and he was inordinately pleased she thought so.

“ Tha thu nad bhoireannach gun choimeas ann am bòidhchead agus tuigse ,” he said impulsively. You are a woman unmatched in beauty and intelligence. She eagerly accepted the challenge and scribbled the phrase with a pencil in her little notebook, asking him to repeat it several times for her.

“I wish I could have someone teach me the language; half the fun of it is learning the nuances native speakers use. Tutors for the other languages I know weren’t all that hard to come by. Your Gaelic, on the other hand…”

Ian barely stopped himself in time before he offered to fill the position himself; the more rational side of his brain kicked in to save him. He was busy enough with his actual profession and there were not enough hours in the day to eat a proper meal, let alone play at tutor…not to mention that to do so would place him in the foolishly dangerous situation where he would invariably grow closer with this intoxicating beauty. He enjoyed and appreciated her earnest desire to learn, the mesmerizing glitter in her eyes as she hung on his every word. It would be far too easy for him to forget who she was—who he was…

“I will make some inquiries on your behalf,” he offered and then changed the subject. “However did you get free of the earl’s watchful eye?”?She leaned in and spoke in a conspiratorial tone so her maid would not hear her through the doors left ajar. “I told him I needed to finish shopping since my last trip was interrupted. If asked—which I have no doubt she will be—my maid will have nothing else to offer other than my ankle began to trouble me with all the walking and we needed to retrieve more of your miracle pain powder here at your offices.”

Ian smiled in response to her cunning and then glanced at his timepiece, realizing he needed to head off to his next appointment. “While I appreciate the visit and the apology, Lady Juliette, I’m afraid I must be off.” He tried not to read too much into her crestfallen expression as he picked up his coat and slipped it on.

∞∞∞

Juliette watched Dr. McCullom don his coat, Lady Sommerfeld’s words echoing around in her skull alongside the conversation she’d just shared with the physician standing before her. She steeled her resolve and clenched her hands to bolster her bravery, hoping her expression was one of coy confidence.

“I suppose I will have to continue to find myself in odd predicaments if I desire to see you again.”

Dr. McCullom froze with only one arm in his sleeve. After a moment of stillness, he spoke and moved at the pace of molasses.

“I don’t believe that would be a good idea.”

“And I don’t see why not; besides, I don’t view you as a man who would leave one’s education lacking.” She gestured to the framed certificates, diplomas, and awards lining the walls of his offices.

“Education?” There was something unbearably charming about the two vertical slices appearing between his brows as he frowned.

“Why, kissing, of course.” He nearly choked on the breath in his lungs, but she continued determinedly. She’d already begun and that was the hardest part, wasn’t it? “If last night proved one thing to me, it is that I am sorely underprepared in that field. I don’t care to feel that way, and this is perhaps the only area of my life my brother cannot fix by hiring an expensive tutor.”

∞∞∞

Thank God , thought Ian, still somewhat unsure of the reality of what he was hearing. Surely Lady Juliette could not be serious? This must surely be some cruel joke women of breeding played upon men in service they found passably attractive. Ian had been propositioned many times under a variety of circumstances, but never anything such as this.

“You said so yourself that you found the kiss enjoyable, so it stands to reason this wouldn’t be a hardship for you,” Lady Juliette continued with the lift of one shoulder.

He scoffed in disbelief before making several unintelligible sounds. There simply were no words available in his vocabulary to respond to the situation.

“I’ve had so little freedom and excitement in my life.” Her tone was painfully soft, almost pleading. “Could you possibly deny me this? What harm could there be in it?”

“What harm?” Ian croaked out. Did she believe him to be as weak and harmless as a kitten? Was she so sheltered that she didn’t realize what he could do to her? What he really wanted from her? The thoughts that kept him throbbing and aching awake every night since the day he’d met her?

He rounded the desk in only a couple of steps to tower over Lady Juliette. His already frantic pulse increased when he caught the light scent of her perfume. If only she knew how he longed to bury his face in her neck, between her pale breasts and bathe in her unique aroma.

“What harm?” he asked again, lower instead of louder, a part of him still realizing there were others not all that far away.

Her instincts seemed to kick in and she stood so she was at less of an advantage. Ian stepped closer, backing her up against his desk, forcing her with his height to lean back and brace her hands on the desktop to look up into his face.

“It would be very dangerous, indeed,” he all but growled. “What your self-proclaimed ignorance cannot comprehend is that kissing you would only inevitably make any man want more .”