Chapter Four

L ater in the morning, a beautiful young woman who'd introduced herself as Nurse Wendy led Lexi up a flight of stairs and into a long rectangular room. Lexi's chest tightened. Puck had left to run some errands but promised to return. Oh dear.

She shouldn't be here—not because Mrs. Dove-Lyon had sent her but because it mustn't be necessary. Everything had to be perfect in Lexi's life, family, and body. "You'll only be as good as the match you make," her mother used to tell her and her sister. Thus, Lexi had been sent to the best finishing school, received the most elegant dresses for her first season, and did everything her parents wanted. Following her parents' expectations, her older sister, Melissa, had married exceptionally well. However, an unfortunate riding accident left her a widow.

Lexi had delayed her coming out because Melissa—and the entire family, really—was in mourning, and it would have been in bad taste as well as socially unacceptable for her to have a season. Finally, the period of mourning ended. Yet, just as it had appeared Lexi could have her own coming out, her sister, still a young lady of excellent breeding had attracted the eye of Prinny during a ball at court. She became his mistress and occupied one of his country estates.

It was a scandal, and the stain of Melissa's behavior colored the whole family—especially Lexi, and the gossip spread through Town like the burn of whiskey-spiked sherry, her mother's preferred nightcap.

"The dentist will be with you in a few minutes." The nurse shut the door, and Lexi was alone.

As she looked around the room on the second floor of the building, she saw a rather unassuming desk with an oversized leather chair. It looked comfortable, like someone could sit in this chair for hours. Behind it was a shelf overstuffed with books. At least as many books stood upright with their spines exposed as others wedged horizontally into the spaces… there were no spaces; the shelf was overstuffed. Lexi almost laughed, if only she weren't so afraid to move her cheek.

With nothing better to do and because she was too nervous about whatever was about to happen to sit and wait, she approached the shelf. Some books had spines that were large and worn; others were thin. One section consisted of notebooks with frayed edges.

A book lay open on the desk; it caught her eye simply because it was colossal. But then when she peered at it, she saw it showed a sketch of a human skull with everything in it. Even teeth, and these were drawn as if they were transparent. Lexi swallowed hard. She'd never seen such an image before. She blinked a few times before turning to see what else she could discover in the room; as much as she wanted to, she didn't dare turn the page in the book.

In the corner by the window, there was a dentist's chair. She'd never sat in a dentist's chair before, but Lexi recognized it by the headrest affixed to the back and the footrest on the bottom. Yet, for all of its additions, it didn't look inviting. It had two metal rods connecting it to the backrest and shiny abrasions showed it could probably be adjusted. How practical.

Upon further inspection, Lexi found a small handle and realized it could be turned. She made a circle and a half when the headrest slid down with a thump.

Lexi shrieked back and then bent over the headrest. Had she broken it?

It was easy to see, for there was much light from the large window nearby, but she couldn't find the rail into which the metal rod slid to hold the headrest in place. She stepped back before she did any more damage to the chair.

Then, the next thing caught her eye. Besides the upholstered leather chair, there was a shiny tray holding a leather etui, and a metal bowl about the size of a compote dish. On another table, farther off by about a foot, was a glass, and a water pitcher, along with another metal bowl, much bigger than the first and clearly for spitting. Gruesome tales of her father came to mind when he had to spit blood when he had some teeth pulled, mixed with the idea of the wounded soldiers Mrs. Dove-Lyon had mentioned.

She swallowed, hard. It was hard not to think of what Father had told her about dentists. Tales of thick tools, corkscrews, and big pinching pliers for yanking teeth out of one's mouth. Possibly worse! But she didn't see any oversized implements lying on the nearby tray, next to that bowl into which patients were meant to spit blood and God only knew what else. Where were the tools and what were they like?

She carefully picked up the leather etui and unwound the string that kept it closed. But when she opened the toolset, it wasn't what she'd expected.

There were none of the thick instruments that looked like corkscrews and pliers, as her father had told her. Instead, there was a selection of long metal tools with tiny sharp spoons. She pulled one out and scraped it with her nail. If this dentist had different tools, maybe he worked differently than Father had told her.

She exerted no pressure, and the tool sliced a bit of her nail off. What a sharp instrument. She'd never seen anything like it before.

"Don't touch those!" A worried male voice from the direction of the door startled Lexi. "These are very sharp, Miss." She turned to look at him. And she broke out in goosebumps.

He was about half a foot taller than her, had short brunette hair, and pronounced sideburns of the latest fashion. The top of his hair was wavy and combed back in a way that made Lexi imagine how it would feel if she trailed her fingers through it. His shirt was crisp and white, and he wore a rather understated cravat. Over the shirt, he merely wore a blue waistcoat, but it was tailored to perfection and spotless. His look overall could only be described as clean. And his movements were fluid as if he were a great athlete. A prince ready to mount a white horse and whisk her into a castle… Nonsense!

He came closer, and she took in his scent. Rosemary and mint. Or was it sage? Something else also lingered in the air, clove, and cinnamon-like, reminding her of mulled wine. He picked the tool out of her hand with great urgency but care and placed it on a clean linen towel on the tray.

"Did you touch any others?" His voice was cultured, not unlike any man from the ton.

"I beg your pardon?" Lexi mustered with as much grace as she could, given the throbbing in her head and everywhere else in her body. Whoever this dashing intruder was, the dentist and nurse should be informed. Again, she was reminded of a prince from the romance novels she loved to read. And she imagined he could indeed do to a woman what a prince might… No, someone should let the dentist know this man was here. He had to be sent away.

"Did you touch any of these?" He took the etui from her hand and set it at a perfectly right angle to the tray with a skill that irritated Lexi. At least two dozen tiny, sharp, and pointy spoon-tipped instruments were aligned. Lexi bent over them again, unable to stifle her fascination. Some looked like tiny, curved sabers, their sharp edges glistening in the sun coming through the window.

"Well, did you? You have to tell me if you did."

Who did he think he was, daring to touch her, and interrogate her? His gaze pierced hers, challenging the lump of frustration in her throat. His presence spun a dizzying web around her senses, clashing with the sting in her mouth. Lexi recoiled, disoriented.

Yet he stood unyielding, his look commanding the room and every fiber of her being. His eyes were a hypnotic dance of green shades, their golden-green sparkles perfectly mirrored in his hair under the sun's careful illumination. His frown deepened, his gaze burning with fierce intelligence, making Lexi's heart jump.

A subtle crease appeared above his nose as he scowled, his brows touching a flawless forehead. His clean-shaven face was graced with an angular jawline, leading to a robust neck, a testament to his physical prowess. It was a sight that Lexi found increasingly difficult not to respond to; even the most skilled artist couldn't have crafted a more perfect male figure.

"Miss?" He took a wide stance before her, and she noticed his broad shoulders filled his shirt out completely. He was taller and wider than she and could quickly envelop her with his muscles. Oh, how she would like that. She'd never been wrapped in a man's arms, but she'd thought about what it would be like quite a bit, and honestly, it was easy to imagine now… Too bad this gorgeous specimen of manliness had also come to the dentist's office. She'd hate for such a magnificent man to suffer as she did. With his perfectly formed lips, it was impossible to think of a bad tooth within his mouth; it wasn't possible. What would it be like to kiss those lips? What else about him would be perfect, manly, and—

"Miss?"

"Yes?" She said dreamily, barely waking from her stupor.

Oh dear, he must think her a dimwit woolgathering while he awaited her response.

"I'm Dustin Fitzwater." He turned around and moved around the desk to sit on the upholstered chair, pushing a few ledgers aside as he spoke. "Dr. Dustin Fitzwater, Doctor of Dental Medicine. And you are?" He moved a ledger that resembled an appointment book from the top of the pile of books on the corner of the desk to the middle, placing it on top of the big book with the skull sketch, and opened it.

Lexi blinked, hindered by the information he presented. Doctor? A prince-doctor.

How inconvenient.

It couldn't be. It was too cruel a joke to make such a man the dentist who'd… impossible; Lexi decided it was all a mistake. Perfection like this specimen of manhood by a dentist was incredible. As her father would, she waved to dismiss the notion. Maybe it would disappear if she didn't acknowledge the problem and the awkwardness.

Meanwhile, the prince-doctor just stared at her, his finger still on the top line in his ledger.

Lexi's hands grew cold, and she surveyed the room. There was a door. Right behind her. And another on the side. She didn't remember which one she'd entered from. She'd save face if she stormed out now without saying a word. Yes, that was it. Escape.

She'd go. Walk briskly. Run really. And then she'd just be a curious woman in his office touching tools he didn't allow anyone to… but what about pulsating piercing pain? And what if Mrs. Dove-Lyon wouldn't take her on as a client if she returned without being treated?

What if Puck was right, and he really was the best dentist in all of Europe? She needed his help. Oh dear, everything was spinning, and she felt rather faint.

"Here," the too-handsome-to-be-a-doctor prince had come around the desk and pulled the chair for her to sit in. "I take it you were eyeing an escape route?"

How did he know? She sank into the seat.

"But you decided you need my services after all?" He bared his dashing teeth, and Lexi noticed the dimples when he smiled. Her body was glued to the chair, her heart racing, and her mind willing her to stay. It was too much, and on top of all that, she feared for her mouth. Her tooth. The future of her smile. She sensed the imminent pain worsening. "And I don't see any new names on my schedule for the day. It's still early. You are an emergency patient, then?" His voice resonated deep within her. It was just as dashing as his face. "I saw Puck downstairs. Has Mrs. Dove-Lyon sent you?"

He should have been an investigator or a barrister at the Old Bailey rather than a dentist.

Lexi swallowed and pinched her lips tightly. If she spoke, he'd see the status of her mouth. Her teeth. And she didn't want to show such a handsome man her teeth. Particularly not one of them.

"You have never been to the dentist before?" he asked gently. "Felix Leafley?"

She shook her head. He must consider her an immature dimwit, like a girl eating too many caramels.

"This is Doctor Leafley's office. I'm his replacement. He's gone on honeymoon for the rest of the month, and I am taking over."

"I can wait. Thank you for your time," she mumbled, feeling for her tooth with her tongue. Yes, the gaping space was still there. It was probably just as large and black as ever.

As the bright morning sun illuminated his handsome features, the young dentist leaned towards her, glowing like she'd imagine an angel would glow. Or perhaps, a god. A Greek god. Which one, she wondered.

Meanwhile, his gaze was steady, filled with an urgency that made her heartbeat quicken.

"I assure you that my work is most inconspicuous, Miss. Should you require my services, the unblemished perfection of your smile shall be my utmost priority." His stern expression softened, and a hint of admiration flickered in his eyes. He moved closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And you can be assured of my discretion." His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

She shouldn't be here, not alone with such a handsome man, not with an aching tooth, not in such a rush to return to the Lyon's Den to find a husband. What was more, allowing him to touch her, though necessary for his work, could be misconstrued as an assault on her virtue.

A sigh escaped her lips. "The need for your service could be seen as a flaw, a crack in the perfect porcelain facade society expects of me." She crossed her arms and hugged herself, conflicted by the need to stay and seek treatment, but unable to withstand the urge to flee. "One's teeth, white and perfect, are regarded as symbols of health, beauty, and status." Her heart pounded as his gaze fell to her mouth. Lexi cast her eyes down and saw the open page of the book showing various shapes of gold leaf spots on drawings of teeth that were too detailed to be considered art. "If word got out that a debutante bore fillings, even as finely crafted as these, it could tarnish her prospects, no matter the skill of the craftsman."

His gaze met hers, and a spark of respect flashed between them. "As a dentist, I seek to heal, and be a guardian of smiles, for there is virtue in the smile of a beautiful woman."

His words struck her, but not with fear. Instead, she felt a wave of admiration for this man who understood the pressures of her position so clearly. And just so, he won her trust.

Yet, she was a Wentworth and her flaws must remain undetected. She had to marry soon, keep any imperfections as invisible as possible, and especially, hidden from prying eyes and unsuspecting suitors. Lexi rose, about to turn and leave.

"Wait!" He'd been leaning on the desk with his behind and stood before her. "Let me take a look. I'll mark you down for another appointment if it's not urgent. But I might be able to help you. I graduated at the top of my class and completed two apprenticeships, one in Vienna and one in Delhi."

That pulled her up short. She'd never known anyone who'd actually spent any time in Delhi. India had been in her imagination ever since she'd started reading the story of Princess Leela. She'd read and reread it until the pages came loose from her book. She could imagine him dressed in exotic silks, perhaps riding on the back of an elephant… "Delhi in India?"

"Is there another?"

"I'm not sure. There might be," she said with a wry smile, turning her head away and to the window. The light was so bright, she blinked a few times. Then, her gaze fell to the chair in front of the window, the one she didn't want to sit in. "India is large and magical." She'd never been anywhere nor traveled to the continent—only in her imagination.

"Magical? How so?" He went to stand next to the window, and as if his aura pulled her in, she walked there to join him Standing close to him now, but not looking at him, she was seduced by his scent of mulling spices and rosemary. When she turned to look at him again, the clean look of his face, in contrast to the silky waves atop his head, made her long to touch him. He studied her with those green-glass eyes, bright in the sunlight. She shook herself. India.

"I read a story once about… well, there were bustling bazaars, and spice-laden air, ornate temples. In the story, the groom rode to his bride on a decorated—"

"Elephant! Yes, I have been to a wedding where the groom—"

"You saw a real elephant?"

"I rode some." His smile was contagious, and Lexi forgot her shyness about speaking in front of him. Instead, she was instantly brought back to the story of Princess Leela and her Prince Jai. "What kind of a story did you read? About India, that is."

Lexi blinked at him, now unable not to imagine him as Prince Jai from the story who'd passionately kissed Princess Leela. Words failed to form in her mouth. Instead, images of swirling, colorful shawls blowing in the wind came to Lexi's mind. She wasn't sure what exactly happened that night, but she imagined the prince raining kisses on his lovely princess.

Lost in her daydream, she smiled, and Lexi's cheeks suddenly sent a jolt of pain that woke her.

"I see you don't have much time, Miss."

Lexi's hand flew to her mouth. How did he do that? He'd made her smile so he could peek at her teeth.

"I promise I'll be gentle. Come, take a seat." He gently took her by the wrist, tugging her hand from her mouth, and led her to the chair with the built-in headrest. His tone was trustworthy, and Lexi was confused, unable to decide what to do. She could flee, but the pain was never-ending. How could she go out into society if she couldn't even smile without wincing?

Lexi swallowed hard but sank into the seat, pulling her dress over her legs and straightening the fabric.

The prince-dentist pulled a concave mirror from a wooden arm overhead and turned it to direct the sunlight at her. It was blinding at first, and Lexi squinted, grimacing as the movement of her cheeks sent pain through her head again.

"My apologies, Miss, but I didn't think you'd open up. It's a little trick for us to move the process along. It's hard to prepare the right treatment without a diagnosis." He spoke as he opened a drawer of the cabinet next to him. He retrieved a little wooden box, a bottle with a wick tucked into it, and another small leather pouch. More instruments.

"You tricked me!"

"I examined your teeth without touching you. I promised to be gentle, didn't I?" His warm green eyes melted her bones, and she was most skeptical. A doctor and a prince in one person was surely illegal. Shouldn't the dentist look more like the villainous blacksmith in a Black Forest fairy tale?

She wanted to jerk her head back, but he'd slipped a rolled-up towel behind her neck before she completed the movement. His hand expertly touched the back of her neck and lifted her head just enough to slide the rolled-up towel there.

As much as Lexi wished to be angry, the roll at her neck soothed her instantly. It was scented with a combination of fragrances so pleasing they overpowered all the discomfort for a moment. She sighed and then exhaled deeply. It had been a few weeks since she'd been this relaxed.

"Have you had trouble sleeping?"

"A little."

He poured a glass of water from the pitcher and uncorked a small vial. "Thank you for your honesty, Miss." He put four drops into the glass with a dripper, swirled it with a spoon, and handed it to her.

"Please, try to keep this in your mouth as long as possible, but don't swallow it." Then he handed her the bigger of the giant metal bowls. "To spit into," he said as he laid out various instruments from the first etui. He retrieved some small rolls of white linen and a pair of tweezers from a little box in a drawer. Lexi had never spit in front of a man in her life. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, she couldn't recall ever having spit. But he turned and pierced her with a sharp, piercing stare, and before she knew it, Lexi had swished a large gulp of the water around her mouth. Clove and something else washed over her senses. That's what the smell of mulled wine was! It felt rather nice, too, and she was overcome with mellowness and a sense of curiosity she didn't expect to develop under the given circumstances. Lexi set the bowl and the cup on the small tray next to the etui of instruments.

Then she observed him. With the grace of an artist, he prepared what could only be described as tiny carving tools. His hands were steady, his fingers lean and nimble. Every movement was, sure, rehearsed even.

Then he picked up the second etui and retrieved a small hammer.

Enough! Lexi spat the water into the metal bowl.

Never mind Mrs. Dove-Lyon's condition to find her a match.

A hammer? She wouldn't allow it!

She inhaled to speak, ready to snap at him, but he interrupted her midway and handed her a white towel.

"Are you ready?"

With those gorgeous green eyes, he considered her. Warmth, elegance, and something else seeped out of him, and Lexi thought she'd never seen such beauty. It was just her luck the only dentist who could help in this instant was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

She remained silent and frozen. Why hadn't she fled the scene? Why had she entrusted herself to this stranger? This inconveniently handsome man who affected her emotions and imagination so?

"Let me then," he said, dabbing the edge of her mouth. Then he folded the napkin into a triangle and laid it on her chest without touching her. Like a delicate gust of wind, the napkin fell into place, and Lexi laid back.

"Did the clove oil help?"

She contemplated how to respond. How did he know all this about her? "For the pain. Are you able to open your mouth wider for me now?"

He shifted in his seat so her head was nearly in his lap, then gently placed his left hand on her chin and nudged it down. She opened.

Wide.

Oh my!

Wider than she'd been able to in a while.

He held a long metal stick with a round mirror on its end in his right hand. "I'm going to take a better look now."

He bent over her face, and Lexi felt his breath. Gentle and fresh. He oozed energy and warmth, and she discovered another thing: Expertise . His movements were swift and exact. He turned, slightly, and she heard the metallic clank and click of the instruments on the tray as he picked one up, then loomed over her as he placed it into her mouth, making contact with her rotten, imperfect tooth.

"Ouch!" She nearly shot out of the chair, bumped her head on the mirror hung from the ceiling, and her makeshift bib almost dropped.

Dustin suppressed a chuckle when the young patient rocked the entire chair as she jumped. She was clearly new to this experience altogether, which was a testament to her overall health. That, in turn, was rather obvious by the strong motions of her chest when she breathed and the brightness of her eyes as she inspected everything in his office with curiosity—including himself. He shouldn't have noticed it, but he did as soon as he'd entered. It was impossible to miss, especially so early in the morning when Dustin was once again reminded of his frustration of yet another night spent alone.

"I had to test the nerve, Miss."

Vitality? Check.

She sat with a frown, rubbing her cheek and feeling for the tooth with her tongue. Her hand was delicate and feminine, with well-manicured nails. She took care of herself. That was obvious. Too bad she'd been afflicted by caries that penetrated the integrity of her teeth. It was a common ailment, uniting the rich and the poor.

What distinguished them was their access to dentists. His services were expensive, as were Felix's. But he worked for trade whenever he could, like with the baker's son the other day, resulting in free baked goods delivered to 87 Harley Street twice a week for a year. Or he worked pro bono , as he had with Lady Summer's coachman. That's why he was in the situation he was in. In only two weeks, he needed to make enough to buy his passage before the position at the University of Maryland was given to another. Most other dentists would scrape and fill far beyond what was necessary to charge their patients, overcharge them. They had no scruples to commit battery of the patient—for what else could their quackery be called—in the name of padding their finances. Dustin hated his colleagues—except for Felix, of course, and a few others—for that. He hoped they'd be different in Maryland. He would teach his students differently. He'd sworn the Hippocratic Oath and would uphold it at all costs.

She shot him a piercing sideways look.

Feistiness? Check.

Dustin suppressed a grin. This was one adorable patient—a rare beauty.

"I'm sorry it hurt, but it's a good sign." Dustin forced a frown, even as he wished he could smile. She was a dainty young girl, probably the aristocratic daughter of some earl or duke. She was perfection, a diamond of the first water as the ton liked to say; he'd forgotten there was one named every season. She had to be, no— must be one—from this season or perhaps last. She wasn't old enough he didn't think to have been presented yet, though he couldn't be sure. It wasn't his world anymore, not the pressure from the House of Lords nor the Duncans' dukedom.

"How is that pain a good sign?" she asked.

Her napkin almost fell, and even though giving her another wouldn't have been a problem, Dustin instinctively caught it, pressing the fabric against her chest. Her perfectly shaped breasts, hidden under rucked white muslin and with an embroidered flower in the center, just above where he imagined her cleavage to start the path down to where his eyes mustn't trail and his mind mustn't follow. The bodice of her dress was a dusty blue, with the seams adorned with gold threads. Puffy sleeves, the color of a peachy rose petal, fell loosely over her delicate shoulders. She was truly lovely.

Dustin tried not to stare. He truly did—with success that was asymptotical to zero.

But then she moved, crossed her legs, and let the fabric of her dress drape over her long, lithe body. She was precious.

So pretty, Dustin was suddenly overcome with the shyness of a green boy. He didn't dare touch her. Yet, she was his patient. He had to. And he'd do anything in his power to make her comfortable. Oh, what he'd give to pleasure her. No, no. He'd never… not with a patient.

He noticed her blush, the sweetest pink on porcelain cheeks. Like a doll, perhaps.

She shifted in the chair. Suddenly his palm was touching her breast.

He withdrew his hand as if she were on fire, but that didn't stop him from realizing how round and firm that breast was. She didn't notice, he hoped. Sometimes, a doctor got away with physical contact which would have been out of the question at Almack's, although he'd never take advantage of that fact of course.

Almack's. He was glad he didn't have to go there. As soon as he had enough money, he'd put the Atlantic Ocean between the ton and himself.

Yet, she was adorable and had the lushest lips he'd ever seen. Her glowing pink cheeks almost made Dustin forget she was one of them…a member of the Ton.

And, her teeth were most femininely curved, even, and formed a straight row. He'd studied the elements of harmony for the smile, the line the sharp edges of the teeth formed in a beautiful and healthy woman—and what distinguished them from a man's. Felix had taught him how to bridge potential interruptions in this harmony to restore not just the functionality of the teeth but to bring back the natural allure of a healthy mouth. And this beautiful young woman certainly had a perfectly feminine line. She herself was perfect, in every way possible.

Except she wasn't looking at him. He laid a gentle finger on her chin, and she opened up again. Dustin's heart leaped.

It was good to see that all of her teeth were even and white, except for that one spot. He'd love to see this beauty smile brightly. His pulse quickened at the thought of how he'd bring a smile to her mouth.

"So, what is it, Doctor? How many teeth will you pull out?"

"What?" He couldn't help but frown. What was this beautiful girl talking about?

"Puck said he'd help me. He'll return soon to give me ice for the swelling."

"Swelling?" His heart sank. If she were another of those dim-witted debutantes with a pretty face, he'd…

"Puck said that my face will swell and bruise once the teeth are pulled." She paused. "Will I still be able to chew? Will there be big gaps where my gums are exposed? Will I be able to eat normally?"

Dustin saw the horror in her eyes. She was genuinely concerned about her teeth. Apparently, this mysterious Puck—foolish prankster, aptly named—had filled her head with terrifying stories, besides. Unlike most people, in his experience, who only cared about whiteness and avoidance of pain. Everything in between was his problem, and they didn't want to hear about it. But here she was, asking.

"First of all, Miss, there is no need for an extraction. The tooth with the larger cavity has vitality, and the other didn't make you cringe."

Her mouth fell open; her eyes darted from his left to right and back. What was she processing exactly?

"You mean I have two holes in my teeth? Two ?" Her voice came high-pitched, and Dustin squinted. It was a very high note she achieved, indeed.

"On your premolar and first molar, yes. The larger cavity is the molar, but the nerve remains unaffected, so you may retain your tooth if I can place an inlay."

Her eyes darted from his left to his right again. She batted her eyelashes. Ah, she didn't understand.

"The smaller cavity will hardly be visible once filled and polished."

"W—What do you mean ‘polished'?"

"It requires a gold filling. However, since it's a mesiolingual cavity, you'd have to open your mouth very wide for the gold filling to be seen. And if it's nicely polished, it'll reflect the light. No worries there."

"No worries?" A high pitch again. Dustin suppressed the urge to stick his fingers in his ears. "What does that even mean measly ?"

"Mesiolingual, Miss." He was losing his patience. "Toward the middle and the tongue." He watched her. But instead of bristling against him again, she felt for the spot with her tongue.

"You mean, there's a name for the location?" Her language came slightly garbled, with her tongue still in the spot.

"Yes, and if I don't treat it soon, it will grow. There are a variety of scenarios which could cause serious complications."

"I don't accept complications." She spoke with determination. The ton had a way of disregarding the truth and declaring reality what they were comfortable with. It was an absurd practice, yet it was a familiar one from his childhood. Of course. His father wouldn't have been swindled if he'd actually spoken with someone reputable and heard the truth instead of a made-up one that sounded palatable if not true.

"I'm afraid, Miss, you have no choice. Your cards have been dealt. It's up to you what you make of them."

"I don't like your tone, Doctor." Ah, now she sounded like the other patients. Too bad, for she was too breathtakingly beautiful to be part of that unattractive set. "Who's to say I will accept your proposed treatment?"

"You tell me." He rose and picked up Felix's book of oral pathology. He'd laughed at him at first, mocked him for keeping it out like a first-year student. But in only a week with the wealthy patients at Marylebone, he realized the illustrations were most persuasive for the rich.

"This," he turned to the page of an abscess drawn into a transparent jaw, "is what happens when a cavity reaches the nerve. Yours is currently a bit higher—here, in fact—" he pointed to the illustration—"and the root of your molar is most likely unaffected."

She leaned over the pages with horror in her eyes but also with utmost interest.

"And if we don't do anything about this soon, then this is the probable result." He turned to the next spread, and she gasped.

This would be a long day indeed. Dustin had yet to learn how Felix did it. Day after day with these relatively wealthy and spoiled aristocrats was exhausting. He much preferred the mix of patients he'd encountered on his travels. Even the local patients who'd come to the university clinic in Vienna for students to practice on had been kind and grateful, rarely questioning his treatment plans.

She sat back and looked at him with a mixture of trepidation and determination in her blue eyes. "What do you need to do to treat it exactly?"

Well, that had worked like a charm.

Dustin snapped the book shut and put it on the side table with the pitcher. "Shall we?"

He dripped a few more drops of Alfie's clove oil in the cup of water. She was too pretty for him to continue gawking at her, and he wanted to get on with the treatment, so she'd leave.

"How did it grow?"

"The cavity?" he asked while handing her the water.

She nodded but took the glass and stared at it. Was she embarrassed? "I try to keep my teeth healthy and my mouth clean. Why did this happen to me? Why the holes?"

Dustin sighed. This was rare. It was almost unheard of. She was interested. Concerned. And she asked questions. He couldn't make up his mind about her. Her questions were like probes, tiptoeing into the untouched corners of his soul.

Most of Felix's patients here in London had been outright ungrateful. Considering few dentists could do what he and Felix did, they should be happy that they could get treated here. Most dentists, even those with university degrees, would scrape the teeth of these wealthy aristocrats hollow like gold mines. The difference was that he and Felix filled the teeth with gold and never removed more of the healthy tooth structure than necessary. He didn't want to begin to think about the nasty substitutions in material he'd removed from the teeth of London's elite in just his first week here. And he had two more weeks to go.

She blinked at him as if the diagnosis had vexed her.

"I know you do, Miss. It's part of the problem."

"I have the best brushes, I even use horsehair to clean between my teeth and crepe muslin to polish."

"Certainly. It's not what you use as much as how ."

She blinked incredulously, and her long lashes fluttered against the porcelain purity of her skin. Boy, was she pretty. Forget the little cavities. He'd take care of those in no time. This girl had an innate beauty and a fierce glow he'd never seen before. Or maybe he had and it had never affected him the way she was affecting him now. It didn't matter, either way. He was not interested in ton women; he was leaving England soon, after all.

"When you flossed between your teeth, you cut the gum. Did it bleed sometimes?"

"How did you know?"

"You did on the other side, too. You push bits of food there, into the gum. Then it causes rot." He paused as he noticed another, tiny spot, and he tilted the mirror to be sure. Yes. "There's a little cavity, too." He pinched his lips.

She gasped. "Three?"

"No…actually." He used his pick to scrap at the teeth to be sure. "Five."

She dropped her head back and pushed the roll behind her neck almost flat.

"Why?" Her voice was mousey meek, and he could tell she was fighting off tears. His suspicions were affirmed when a big tear leaked from her eye and trickled over her soft cheek. Lucky tear. He took the chance and gently dabbed it away with the napkin on her chest. Then he cleared his throat. Enough of that, he told himself. You are a professional! "It's a mirror cavity. When one tooth is afflicted, the mirroring surface of the tooth beside it is usually affected. So, you had a big one here, the next tooth in line, the opposing one on the upper jaw and the other side, but only two there."

As if defeated, she lifted her head to take a big swig of the water with clove, swished it around her mouth, spat it into the bowl, and then leaned her head back once more. In fact, to Dustin's surprise, she shimmied into the chair and appeared to collapse into herself, with her head tilted backward, her eyes pinched shut, and her mouth wide open.