Page 14 of The Nabob's Designing Daughter
“Your father has plans for you.”
“Father has plans for everyone. He had plans for the duke, and that didn’t work out.”
“So, an earl will have to do?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve grown to love the people hereabouts. I hate the thought of leaving them. Their needs are so great.”
“Are there no more dukes in the area?”
“No. Though we’re awaiting a new baron soon. Mayhap he’ll be a prospect. Might we not consider ourselves friends until I announce my betrothal, if I ever announce my betrothal?”
Friendship was a safe option for the short time he’d be here, but he didn’t think he could be much alone with her and sustain a mere friendship. Not when she smiled at him like that.
“Let us say, until your betrothal or my departure, we will be friends. I am only here until the duchess’s child is safely delivered.”
A puff of breath escaped her. “And then?”
“Then I am for London. I intend to join a practice there.”
“I see.” She let go of his hands and turned back toward the house. “You’ll become a rich and famous physician, Dr. Robillard. Attending the birth of duke’s child will be a notch on your stick. Will you specialize in childbirth?”
“No.”
“Have you ever attended a birth before?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve also amputated limbs, set broken bones, and performed surgeries.”
“It’s fortunate that you could be here, since we have no one but an elderly midwife and a tippling apothecary.”
“And a secret herbalist,” he teased, watching her reaction. “Are you still practicing medicine, Ann?”
She shrugged and glanced at him sidewise through her dropped eyelashes. “The duke might have sent for another doctor from Edinburgh, I suppose.”
The skin on his neck prickled. Whyhadthe duke chosen him? He’d never received a satisfactory explanation. Hell, he’d never asked the question.
Surely the Duke of Kinmartywashis secret benefactor, perhaps had taken over the charity from the last duke, else he might have called in anyone else.
He allowed himself a rueful smile. “Or he could have sent for a woman from further south. Mrs. MacDonal confided that the midwife his lady preferred—no less than a marchioness—was unavailable.”
“Lady Wallenford. I have heard of her. But in any case, I’m sure you will be adequate to the task.”
“Adequate?”
“Very well.” Laughing, she flung out a hand in an extravagant bow. “You’ll be magnificent, Dr. Robillard. No wonder the duke has asked you to attend his lady.”
She’d added a smile to the teasing, one that lit up her face and sparked a desire in him to see more of this lively Ann.
That was a sobering thought. He had no means of supporting a… no, anything more than friendship was impossible.
“I suppose the real reason the duke requested me is that he’s been funding my education. I’m going to make money, Ann and pay back every farthing of charity, with interest.”
She ducked her head. “Perhaps it’s not the duke. Perhaps it’s someone else you know.”
“Perhaps some other wealthy fellow? Or… perhaps it’s not ahe. That Mrs. MacDonal is a meddling sort of female.” Rich as Croesus, William had said. He shuddered. “Charity from a woman.” Rain pattered on the brim of his hat. “Here’s the rain starting up. Come along before you are soaked and come down with a fever.”
Errol clamped his large mitt over her dainty fingers as they hurried down the path. At least she’d had the sense to wear sturdy boots; still she seemed fragile, and in this moment, delicate.
When they reached the portico, she pulled him aside. “Errol, I have more to say to you. To… to tell you.”
