Chapter Thirty-Four

T he practice was in a flurry of activity, even though Lance was the only patient of the day. While Wendy put some water to boil, Alfie infused towels with essential oils, Andre spoke to the patients who'd been scheduled and had to come back later in the day, and Felix had gone somewhere to do… something —Nick couldn't keep track.

Before him, on the operating table, sat his friend.

And he didn't want to slice into his eye.

Especially not both.

"Thank you for doing this, Nick," Lance said, dangling his feet from Nick's special operating chair. He was dressed in plain breeches and a thin white shirt, with only socks on his feet. Nick didn't want him to be uncomfortable in any way; he needed him to stay still.

"This is not easy," Nick said.

"I know. It'll hurt. I cannot imagine that it's pleasant—"

"I also meant for me." But he might lose the practice, his livelihood, so he had to try to operate on Lance before it was too late. For Wendy's sake, he'd take her out of England if he had a chance to flee. But if word got out that he'd compromised Pippa and run away, he'd never work as a doctor again. Nick thought of Wendy and how she followed him to Vienna for his studies. She'd packed up the few belongings from their childhood home that they hadn't sold and done everything to help him. He'd do the same for her and find a way to look after her if the Ton gave them the cut direct.

The conversation with Pippa from their night together came to mind. If they could realize their dreams, they could have a family and Wendy would be a part of it until the day she chose to start a family with a man she loved. And if not, Nick would look after her for as long as he lived.

Acid rose to his throat. He had the same obligation to look after Pippa now. He loved her and wanted to marry her. For all he knew, she might even carry his baby.

One step at a time, Nick thought. He'd operate on Lance even if it were the last surgery he'd ever perform.

Lance shifted. "I wish I had the luxury to consider your feelings because I realize this timing is inconvenient, but I want to see again. I need to see again."

"Understood." Nick lowered his head and poured alcohol into the metal bowl in which he'd prepared the two tiny crystal glass lenses for Lance's surgery. "These are calculated within a margin of error of zero point zero, zero eight. Chances are, if they work, you will always need spectacles."

Lance waved his hand dismissively. "And it's not as though you'd have to worry about me in the coming days. You have far greater heartbreak to face."

Nick dropped the cork into the alcohol bottle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just carry on." Lance settled in the chair, his head between the cushions of the headrest, and folded his hands over his chest like a corpse. "I'm ready."

"Well, I'm not. And why are you lying there like a dead man?"

Lance sat up again. "Because defeat does that to a person, Nick. There's no margin of error in real life. I'm blind and can either regain my vision or not. I don't care about zero point zero, zero something probability that I will need spectacles. I'd love to have spectacles! It would mean that I could see. But you're not seeing anything even though your vision is perfect!"

"What? Are you doubting my calculation of the refractive index?"

Lance slammed both hands onto his face. "You have no idea."

"Don't touch your face! We're going to have to clean it all over again now." Nick turned away to get more oil-infused cloths. But the need to answer Lance's accusation easily overrode his desire to perform the surgery. "I happen to have every idea! There isn't a single facet about calculating the right lens for cataract surgery that escapes me!"

"But the facets of the Ton escaped you. You made every mistake in the book, Nick."

Nick set the bowl with the alcohol and the lenses aside. A bitter dread rose in his throat, and his arms cooled like he'd walked in the dreadful winter. "You mean…Pippa?"

"Yes, Pippa. I don't need to see to sense what's going on. You love her but you're not sure how to go about getting permission to marry her."

Nick nodded, then dropped his head and swallowed, as his breathing grew so heavy it felt as though his entire body was about to crash through the floorboards. He didn't want to hear what Lance was about to say; it would forever erase the power to smile from Nick's life.

"I love her."

"And you compromised her, didn't you?" Lance placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. "Just a little bit?"

"Quite thoroughly," Nick admitted.

Lance inhaled audibly and took his hand off. "I need to see again, Nick. Come on, let's get started. You need my help."

"What does that have to do with Pippa now?"

"I was afraid I hadn't considered you and your perfect track record by being your hardest case. But I might be the most important case in your career." Lance settled back into the chair and put his arms straight on either side of his body. "Let's begin."

"Wait, what do you mean by my most important case?"

"Nick, you compromised the daughter of a duke. Is she pregnant?" Lance looked at him with a piercing expression despite his pupils being grey and unfocused.

"I… I… ahem …."

"I understand. She might be, then?"

"It's only been a day since."

"You have to marry her. Yesterday."

"I want to."

"Except that you can't without her father's permission. I'm sure she knows that."

"What if he won't give his permission because I'm just a…"

"Then either you lose your practice, and she's cut out and cast aside into the country as I have been, or I help you."

"And how would you do that?"

"Leave it to me. Your task is to restore my vision. Your love and both of your futures might depend on it."

Nick sat agog on the stool, and Lance lay still. Wendy, Felix, and Alfie came in to help prepare him and to assist during the surgery. As if in a déjà vu of a nightmare, Nick watched the routine preparation of a patient for a surgery he'd done over a thousand times. And yet, his hands felt heavy, his skin burned, and his chest was too tight to take a deep breath.

And when the time came for the first incision, he feared he'd cut far deeper into his own life than into Lance's eye.