Chapter Sixteen

N ot this time, Pippa told herself. She wouldn't let Bea outshine her. This wasn't a ball. She wouldn't fall and she wouldn't let another minute pass by without making her intentions known, especially to this man, the one who'd noticed her. Who'd seen her, not as a clumsy goose.

Pippa wanted this one for herself. She'd already tumbled over him in the patisserie, besmeared Nick with whipped cream, and had shared the most tantalizing slice of pineapple with him—better than any seven-course banquet dinner. But beyond that, this time, Pippa had caught the attention of the kindest and most gallant man she'd ever seen—a man who had realized she couldn't see well at all and had brought focus to her world—and she wouldn't let the moment pass by without taking action. He wasn't born into nobility, but his work was noble. Beyond that, Nick was intelligent, not merely educated. Instead of treating her with cold distance, he'd brought her blood to boil with a tender kiss. In the few hours they'd spent together, he'd cured her of her clumsiness with spectacles and awakened her from a sad slumber of loneliness with his kiss. What more was he capable of doing to her?

Pippa decided to find out for herself. Finally, a person gave her, Pippa Pemberton, not Lady Pippa, not the daughter of the Duke of Sussex, a chance. Just her. Coincidence had brought him to her; she'd turn it into fate.

Truth be told, Pippa had recognized Chromius as soon as she'd seen him. The new glasses had some advantages, especially when she could run ahead of her cousin and catch the doctor's runaway dog.

Pippa maintained her stance and leaned against the wall.

"I owe you an apology, Lady Penelope." His speech came stilted, almost with a practiced tone and too distant for Pippa's comfort.

"Pippa. You may call me Pippa. I'm only Lady Penelope for strangers."

"Which is what I should be," he rasped with head low like a man who could barely show his face. "You're far above me, Lady Penelope." He combed one hand through his golden-blond hair and Pippa wished to touch the strands that now stood upright. backlit by the sun. "I mean, Pippa." Frustration seeped into his words, each syllable laced with an unmistakable tinge of exasperation. "I shouldn't call you Pippa, but etiquette demands I acquiesce to your wish I address you so. At the same time, it's against etiquette to be so familiar with you, a lady of the Ton." He looked at her, his conflict showing in his eyes. "Honestly, I don't think I know what to do."

"Oh!" Disappointment conquered the excitement that had given her the courage to pull him into this secluded corner of the gardens. "But you kissed me yesterday."

"I did. But I shouldn't have." His eyes met hers and his expression was devoid of regret. A fire burned within him that nearly made Pippa catch flame, but he seemed to stifle it because of her station. "You are a lady and such a beautiful and intelligent woman." He drew out "beautiful" and "intelligent" before it seemed that his voice failed him, and his eyes fell to her mouth.

Pippa knew she never wanted anything more than she wanted his kiss.

Of course, she also knew that it was forbidden. Like a twisted jest of fate, she wanted him and yet she was the forbidden fruit, an aristocratic daughter with the prospect to inherit more than he could probably imagine and yet it was all of this alleged privilege that stood between them. She'd be sorry for herself if she didn't realize how absurd the situation was, with privilege as an obstacle to happiness. It was the material for a Shakespearean drama.

Neither was the irony of her debacle lost on her. A duke like her father could marry a commoner like Wife Six but Pippa was a woman and needed to marry a titled man… for what exactly? So that the Ton could mock her indefinitely? Or worse, she'd become an old spinster holding out for a titled suitor who'd give her a fraction of the respect and kindness that Nick already had? Well, Father had dwelled on her lack of allure and held her inheritance hostage by not encouraging her to wed. "I disagree."

Nick straightened his back. "I beg your pardon?"

"You very much should have kissed me. I welcomed it. You… ahem…" she cleared her throat, "I did like it very much." She nodded for good measure.

He dropped the leather lead that was still tied around his hand and leaned the same hand against the wall next to Pippa's head. Their eyes locked like flaming arrows shooting at each other, hot blazing fire from Cupid's bow. They must not pursue this attraction for so many reasons.

Pippa couldn't afford to lose her reputation, lest she be the ruined clumsy goose.

But this felt different. He was so right for her that wishing he were the right one became a reality in her mind.

"You," his voice broke and he cleared his throat again, "you liked it." She nodded. "But it was your first kiss, wasn't it?" She nodded again, holding his gaze with her eyes. "And I'm nothing, just an oculist. You are—" he gave her a once-over worthy of a man in Prinny's entourage—" everything ." He enunciated every syllable and Pippa had to swallow. Her heart pounded so hard, she nearly felt it in her belly. "Yet I must not have you." Now he just sounded unconvinced.

"Again, I disagree." But before she could get his reaction, a yelp interrupted them as Chromius barked at a squirrel or a bird that rustled in the tree above them and the moment was over.

Nick pushed himself off the wall and put some distance between their bodies as if he sought the exact number of inches required to break the magnetic pull he had on her. Time to change the subject lest Pippa combust from the heat that his closeness spread through her. It didn't take long for her to come up with a new subject to discuss, as Chromius continued to bark.

"How did you get Chromius, Dr. Folsham?"

"I didn't get Chromius as much as he got me," Nick started. He stared at nothing in particular. "It's a long story."

"I'd love to hear it," Pippa said, crossing her arms and pretending to lean leisurely against the wall. In reality, her knees were wobbly from his gaze. Had she just imagined that he was about to kiss her before he pushed himself away?

"We were in our last year at Edinburgh University, and we had to perform a surgery to pass the final licensing exam."

"What does this have to do with Chromius?"

"Well, I needed credit for another cataract surgery and didn't have a patient. Fox terriers are known to suffer both glaucoma and cataracts, so I tried to find one with the issue."

"You specifically looked for a dog who needed an eye surgery to pass your exam?" She didn't know how she felt about that. Experiments on animals were cruel, yet the training a doctor received could often be on an animal rather than a human. And if the animal benefitted from the experiment, then was it wrong?

"It was nearly impossible to find one until I went to a breeder known to drown the runt of the litter. When I got there, Pippa, I have to tell you," he rubbed his thighs with the heels of his palms, "it was such a terrible place. No living creature should ever have the misfortune to be caught in such an environment."

"What happened?"

"Well, it was the day the breeder had caged the litter and sold their mother. Chromius was one of them, limping and holding his paw up."

"What did you do?"

"I paid the man off and took them all with me."

"How many dogs were there?"

"Twenty-eight."

"You bought twenty-eight dogs?"

Nick nodded.

Pippa bit her lower lip. She hadn't misjudged him. He was generous and kind beyond measure. He had a much bigger heart than most aristocrats, even the ones who invested in breeding dogs. They did it for vain reasons, not out of love for the animals.

"Where are they now?"

"I took them with me to university. It was our last week, you know. Most of the other students were married or had jobs in sight. I was able to find homes for them with the students, all future doctors. All of them willing to give a dog a happy, safe home and care."

"What about Chromius?"

"Like I said, he had a limp. He'd been hurt and it didn't take me long to see that he was nearly blind. His cataracts were so bad, his lenses were completely fogged. So, I brought him to the head of the department and requested special leave to conduct my final exam surgery on him."

"You mean, you replaced both of his lenses with glass ones?"

Nick nodded. "As part of the exam, we had to do the calculations of the lenses and it was different for a dog's eye. The head of the faculty of medicine came to personally check my math and watch the surgery."

"How did you get Chromius to hold still?"

"Beer."

"What?" Pippa sputtered a laugh. "You're joking."

They resumed a leisurely pace along the story-high stone wall. Judging from the overgrown grass and weeds, not many people came here. Good, they were alone.

Nick shrugged. "You won't believe how still a dog is when you give them beer with some laudanum. He was a bit drunk and fell asleep. By the time I finished, he'd woken up and was thirsty. Besides that, he seemed fine. I took him home for observation. I didn't officially pass the exam until the committee was convinced that the surgery had been a success."

"How could they tell?" Pippa didn't even try to hide the fascination in her voice. Nick was easily the most interesting man she'd ever met, and she knew almost all the members of the Ton who resided in London and a great number of her father's peers.

"Well, a human will tell you a day or two after the surgery if their vision is better. A dog can't tell you, so I had to wait."

"How did you know for sure?"

"His paw had healed by then and he no longer stumbled. It wasn't a matter of his leg after all, it was that he didn't see well."

Pippa pitied the dog. And she couldn't help but draw comparisons to her own situation as "the clumsy goose." "And did you pass?"

"First in the class with special honors. The report I wrote on the dog's refractive index and my calculations were similar to how you'd approach a human with a slight anatomical anomaly." Nick spoke proudly, but his face had reddened. A tall and dashing medical genius who was bashful around her, and shy about accolades; how absolutely delicious.

"What does that mean?"

"It happens quite often, actually, so it's a bit of a misnomer. When a person's curvature of the lens is outside the usual range, it's considered a reason to calculate a way to compensate for it."

"Does it make the surgery more difficult?"

"It's the same procedure, except that the lens must be just right or else the surgery is in vain."

"I see." She didn't really see because she had no idea how a lens could be right and what the connection was between the calculations and the piece of glass. Nor did it matter to her as long as she had his full attention. Speaking with him, even in the secluded back of the gardens, made Pippa happier than she'd ever been at the luxurious balls in the past years. Here, alone with Nick, Pippa felt special.

"I had a patient like that this week. I'm hoping all went well."

"Has it been two days?" That's what he'd said, two days were required to know whether or not the surgery had been successful.

"It has, but there's been some swelling… I shouldn't bore you with this." Nick made motions as if he should leave but she took his hand.

"You're not boring me at all, Dr. Folsham."

" Nick . Please call me Nick . I don't want to be Dr. Folsham to you."

"Whyever not?"

"Because I don't want you as a patient, Pippa." He did it again, combing his fingers through his hair. And this time, Pippa reach out to brush the strands back. His mien grew serious, but he didn't withdraw.

"As what do you want me?" she asked, stopping to hear his answer.

His demeanor shifted, becoming grave as a look of intensity took over. For a moment, he truly saw her, his eyes delving into the depths of hers with a raw sincerity that took her breath away. Then he got the same expression he'd had at the eye exam and then in the orangery, his eyes black with an appetite Pippa hoped was for her.

A slow exhale escaped him, lightly moving his chest. His Adam's apple bobbed subtly in his throat and a silent internal dialogue seemed to be taking place within him. Pippa decided to end it.

"I wish I had some pineapple but I'm afraid we ate my only one," she confessed.

He swallowed again and came closer, leaning one hand against the wall. Chromius had gone off sniffing for something, probably a squirrel. The world, shouts, and traffic sounds of London fell away, replaced by the symphony of rustling leaves and distant birdsong that filled the air around them.

Pippa held his gaze and tried not to blink.

He murmured, "You don't need fruit to get me to want to kiss you."

"W-what do I need?" She blinked up at him as if he were the sun in the early morning, starting a new day.

He exhaled and hung his head, which brought his face even closer. Pippa could almost feel him now even though they didn't touch. But every bit of her skin was attuned to him, and her heart thundered in her chest in hopeful anticipation of when his lips met hers.

"I'm nothing and you're a lady," he rasped. "I'm not supposed to—"

"Oh, but you are." Pippa pushed her middle off the wall just enough to press the length of her body against his. It was new and strange and absolutely forbidden for a lady of her station to lunge herself at… at… a perfect specimen of manhood, a handsome, chiseled sculpture of a man with a good heart, outstanding dexterity, a respectable profession. Reason lost the debate in her mind, and desire took over. She tilted her head back and offered her mouth.

If Pippa were more brazen or more experienced with men, like Bea, she'd press her lips against his. But she didn't know how. It was done, Pippa knew, but even just speaking of it was fodder for scandal. In this moment, however, she didn't care because she'd only be mocked—or mocked more than ever—by the Ton; being shunned for falling for a commoner wouldn't be better.

But anything with Nick was better than anything the Ton could provide, greater even. Magnificent. Just like his lips on hers. Last time, the sweet nectar of the pineapple had given her a map to follow but now, it was just her heart and the need to taste him.

He was close, his eyes focused on her lips. Less than a blade of grass could fit between them, but he didn't cross the distance.

Pippa licked her lips in anticipation. She wanted him with every fiber of her being. Since she'd first touched him—at the patisserie—and then felt his mouth on hers in the orangery, Pippa knew she was incomplete without him.

She wanted to say something, do something, but she was too scared she'd be the clumsy goose. This was not the moment she wanted to fail. Here, in their solitude, with the dotted shadows of the linden trees adding a dreamy magic to the atmosphere, she cared more about what this man thought of her than the entire English peerage.

She wanted him and hoped that just once in her life, she would get exactly what she wanted.