by Amy Ruttan
Damn.
They rushed her to the operating theater and he set up all his monitors, the crash cart ready and standing by. It wouldn’t take long to get the baby out and that was a blessing, especially if he needed to get in there and massage the heart or shock the mother’s heart back into rhythm.
This operating theater didn’t have a gallery, because no one needed to witness this. This was a possible tragedy in the making, but he wished that Geraldine was beside him. Right now he was a horrible mess of emotions.
Live. Just live.
Instead of his patient on the table, he saw his mother.
“Thomas, I love you.” His mother’s voice was in his head as he watched his patient. He hadn’t heard his mother’s voice in so long. He’d thought he’d forgotten it, but it came to him now and he closed his eyes, listening to the heart monitor. Willing his patient to live.
Live.
The jostling from the C-section played merry havoc with the heart monitors, but so far she was not having another heart attack. Which was good. In less than five minutes he heard the tiny wail of a premature boy as he was lifted up and placed into the hands of the waiting pediatric team.
Thomas smiled behind his mask and then whispered to his patient, who was under anesthesia, “It’s a boy. You have a boy, you need to pull through.”
“How is her heart, Mr. Ashwood?” Mr. Jones asked.
“Stable for now, Mr. Jones.”
Mr. Jones nodded and continued his work on their patient. At least the baby was out and had a good fighting chance to survive. Thomas’s job was making sure that the mother also had a fighting chance.
He was going to save that baby boy’s mother, because he’d been unable to save his own.
* * *
Geraldine saw that Thomas was still sitting in the room of Mrs. Rimes, their patient who had been pregnant and who’d suffered two heart attacks.
“How is she doing?”
Thomas looked up. “Stable. She had massive damage to her heart and has severe cardiomyopathy. At least with the delivery of the baby she won’t succumb to eclampsia.”
“What do you think it was?”
“Arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia.”
“You’re certain?”
He nodded. “She’s at a risk for the rest of her life. When she recovers from her surgery I’ll speak to her about her options, in particular implanting a device that will shock her heart should it happen again. And it will happen again.”
“Poor woman.”
Thomas got up and walked out of her room, shutting the door. “How is the baby?”
“Doing well,” Geraldine said.
“Good.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Are you okay?”
“No, it hits a little too close to home for me. All I could hear was my father’s voice in my head, telling me my mother was dead, when you came to tell me about our patient.”
Geraldine reached out and touched his arm. She could see his pain again. Like the pain he’d had when Zoe had been in the heart catheterization lab. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what he was going through.
“I need to get a coffee. Would you care to join me?” Thomas asked.
“Of course.” They walked toward the small coffee shop that was located in the hospital. Thomas ordered them a couple of cups of coffee and they sat down at a table. It wasn’t busy in the coffee shop and that was fine by her.
“I’m so sorry this situation reminded you of your mother,” she said.
“It’s why I became a heart surgeon. I think we all have a reason why we become what we become. Why did you become a cardiologist? Was it because of your father?”
“No,” Geri said quickly. “No, not at all.” She was uncomfortable discussing this. It was hard to step back and not be in the operating theater where she belonged. She felt useless and helpless. Almost worthless.
Thomas cocked his head to one side. “You said that with such conviction.”
“Well, I didn’t know about him and he didn’t know about me until last year. No, my decision to be a cardiologist was because I wanted to save lives. But I’m not cut out for the operating theater.”
“I disagree,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Geri wished she could believe that. “Well, it wasn’t in the cards.”
And she hoped that would stop the conversation.
“I’m surprised that you didn’t become a surgeon.”
I wanted to.
“I wasn’t made for surgery.”
Liar.
“What makes you think that? You didn’t shy away in the operating theater when Lord Twinsbury was having his surgery. You thought quickly with that suggestion about the umbilical vein. I think, given your drive, that you belong in the operating theater, as I’ve said before. I think you’re made for it.”
Geri sighed. “Well, it’s a little too late for that. I’m a cardiologist and I’m taking over my father’s practice.”
“It’s never too late.”
“I’m happy as a cardiologist.” She took a sip of her coffee. Then she changed the subject. “How is Zoe doing? Is she enjoying her Christmas tree?”
“She’s doing well and, yes, she’s enjoying her tree. I’m not, for the record.”
Geri chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? How can anyone not enjoy a Christmas tree?”
“It sheds. It’s worse than my grandmother’s Pomeranian, which shed everywhere.”
“How can a tree be worse than a dog?”
“It can.” As he winked at her, his pager went off. “Our patient is awake and her husband has been waiting very patiently in the waiting room. I’ll counsel them on the next steps.”
“I look forward to reading your report so I can continue guidance on the matter as well.”
Thomas nodded.
She should head back to the office. There was nothing more she could do here. She wasn’t a surgeon. There were times she regretted running away, taking the easy way out, like now, and like what had happened with Zoe. But that was her burden to bear.
No one else’s. It was all hers.
Despite what Thomas had said, it was too late for her to continue with her specialization. She would never be a surgeon. It’s just the way it was and she was okay with that.
Though she had the feeling that Thomas didn’t believe her.
And she didn’t know why. It shouldn’t matter to him. Why did he want her to become a surgeon anyway? There wasn’t room in the practice for two surgeons. Did he want her to be competition?
Geri shook her head and threw her empty coffee cup in the garbage. She’d head back to Harley Street and wait for Thomas’s report on their new patient, because when she no longer needed the surgeon that’s when Geri had a chance to help save a life.
CHAPTER TEN
THOMAS RANG THE DOORBELL at Charles Collins’s Holland Park townhome. He knew that Geraldine wasn’t there, but it wasn’t Geraldine who had asked him to come by. It had been Charles.
Why, he didn’t know, but Charles had been most insistent that Thomas stop by while Geraldine was at work. And he was happy to oblige. He just hoped this wasn’t some sort of cry off about his daughter, because there was no reason for that.
Wasn’t there?
And the thought caught him off guard.
There was something he just didn’t want to admit, but Geraldine had seen him at his most vulnerable lately.
And he desired her.
It was something more than a quick seduction game that he played time and time again, but what it was he didn’t know and that thought unnerved him because he couldn’t have her. He wouldn�
�t put her through any more pain. She’d been through so much already.
“Thomas, come in.” Charles opened the door and Thomas stepped past him into the foyer. Charles took his coat and hung it up. “Won’t you join me in the sitting room?”
“Of course,” he said as he followed Charles into the sitting room. “I get a lot of flak, you know.”
“For what?” Charles asked, confused.
“For living in Notting Hill in a modest-sized home, but what I don’t understand is why you don’t get any flak for living in a town house?”
Charles chuckled. “Who says I don’t? Then again, I’m not a duke. I’m so far down the list of succession that a lot of people would have to die before I even had sight of the throne and I’m glad of that. You, on the other hand, are definitely an eccentric.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Drink?” Charles asked.
“No, I have to make rounds at the hospital soon.” Thomas sat down on the sofa. “I’d much rather have the drink. So if you have a mineral water with a twist of lemon that would be great.”
“Of course.” Charles poured it and handed Thomas the glass. Thomas noticed Charles’s hand shook.
“Thank you. Are you sure you’re quite well?”
“I’m sure.” Charles sat down, ending that topic. “I heard about the pregnant woman.”
“Yes.”
Charles knew about his mother, but he didn’t want to talk about that right now. “How can I help you, Charles?”
“Geraldine tells me you’re aware that I have cancer.”
“Yes, Charles. I drove her to the hospital when you collapsed during chemo.”
“You haven’t told anyone else?” Charles asked carefully. He was hedging.
“Of course not. Why are you so concerned with keeping it a secret from your colleagues, though?”
“Just privacy. I don’t need a lot of bleeding hearts telling me that I’m in their prayers or giving me sympathetic looks. I don’t need that. I don’t deserve that after all my sins of the past.”
Thomas chuckled. “My father wouldn’t be giving you any.”
Charles snorted. “Don’t even start with me about your father, who would, by the way, not approve of you living in Notting Hill.”
“It’s why I live there.” Thomas winked.
“You are like him in some respects. Cheeky and arrogant, but that’s what makes you a brilliant surgeon.”
“Thank you again. Why do I deserve so much flattery this afternoon?”
“Because my cancer has moved from my stomach. And don’t say it, don’t say you’re sorry.”
“Where is it?” Thomas asked, but he had an idea.
“The heart. My angiosarcoma is small, but it’s there.”
“Charles, angiosarcoma is spread from soft-tissue cancer.”
“Yes, that’s where it spread first. Stomach into the heart. I want you to take out as much of the tumor as you can. I know it’s not possible to take it all out and I know it’s likely to come back, but I want a fighting chance and you’re the most talented surgeon to do it.”
Thomas wanted a drink as it all sank in. Charles was dying now. Previously he was battling cancer, but angiosarcomas were almost always fatal. In cases of malignancy the cancerous tissue had to be removed, but with a border of cancer-free tissues with good margins. It was almost impossible to do that with a heart.
And he couldn’t operate on Charles because he thought of him as a sort of father figure. He respected him too much. He couldn’t do it. Only he had to do it. His survival rates for this kind of surgery were the highest in London.
He wouldn’t leave Charles high and dry.
“Does Geraldine know?” Thomas asked quietly.
“That it’s spread? No. She doesn’t and you’re not to tell her. She needs to concentrate on work. I won’t burden her with this.”
“How are you burdening her? You’re her father.”
Charles’s expression was weary. “Yes. In name, but...too much time was lost between us. I’m just looking for a bit more. You have to do the surgery for me.”
“You told me you never wanted me to operate on you.” It was a flimsy excuse.
“You’re the only one who can. Your success rates are higher than most.”
“Charles, they may be a bit higher, but angiosarcoma still ends up the same.”
“Death, I know. I’m just asking for some more time. Time to get to know my daughter. I have a bit more living I have to do.”
Thomas’s heart sank. There was no way he could turn this down. “I’ll do it, but I won’t keep it secret from Geraldine. She needs to know what’s happening.”
“You’re a thorn in my side, Thomas. You know that?” Charles grumbled.
“I know, but now I’m your surgeon and you have to listen to me. Oh, the power I’ll wield.”
“Ha-ha.” Charles leaned back in his chair. “I’ll tell her, but after the country party this weekend. If I tell her now she’ll try to get out of it.”
“You’re not going to that? It’s in Buckinghamshire and you’re not well enough to travel.”
“I know, which is why I’m hoping you’ll go in my place.”
Thomas shook his head. “No, you know my history with the Ponsonby family. You know that they’re Cassandra’s in-laws. I will not go there.”
“Then I won’t tell Geraldine about my angiosarcoma. Take her to Buckinghamshire to the Ponsonby winter party or I won’t breathe a word about my condition.”
“That’s absolute blackmail.”
Charles grinned. “I know. Didn’t Zoe want to attend that event?”
Thomas groaned. “All right, all right, I’ll escort Geraldine to that event. Zoe can’t go because she’s still recovering from her own surgery. I won’t have her traipsing around a winter garden party and being exposed to germs. Not in her fragile state. She can stay at home.”
“Thank you, Thomas. Geraldine has so much to learn about our world.”
“I hate to break it to you, old man, but I don’t think she particularly cares about it.”
“I know, but when I go she’ll inherit everything, including my seat in the House of Lords. It’s tradition, and I want someone I can trust to show her the ropes.”
“I’ll try, Charles. I will.”
“That’s all I ask.” Charles sighed. “Actually, that’s not all.”
“Oh?” Thomas asked.
“You have my blessing. Not sure if you know that.”
Thomas was confused. “To perform the surgery? I certainly hope so since you’ve just asked me.”
“No, to date Geraldine.” Charles scrubbed his hand over his face. It was apparently hard for him to talk about this.
“We’re friends, Charles.”
Charles shot him a disbelieving look. “I think it’s more than that. You care for her, you’re attracted to her, and I want you to know in case anything happens to me that you have my blessing. Just because you’re your father’s son, it doesn’t mean I disapprove of you.”
Thomas sighed. “Charles, I appreciate it, but...I have hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”
Charles was shocked. “Has it progressed?”
“No, I mean I’m a carrier.”
“Then what is the holdup?” Charles asked, confused. “You’re a carrier, but it might not amount to anything.”
“Heart conditions are in my family. Look at my mother, father and Zoe. I can’t do that to her.”
“So you do care for her.”
Thomas shook his head and stood. “I have to get back to the hospital. Thank you for the drink.”
He couldn’t talk about this, because it didn’t matter if he did care for Geraldine. Nothing could happen. He wouldn’t do tha
t to her. Even with Charles’s blessing, he just wouldn’t put Geraldine’s heart in danger.
Charles sighed. “I’ll let you get to your rounds.”
“Sounds good. I’ll book your preoperative assessment and your surgery. The quicker I get in there the better margins I can get. Angiosarcomas grow very fast.”
Charles nodded. “I know. Thank you.”
“Of course, Charles. I’ll show myself out.” Thomas grabbed his jacket and then headed back into the street. He wondered how Geraldine was going to react when she found out and he was annoyed that Charles wasn’t going to tell her unless he took her to that ridiculous winter garden party.
Now he felt an inkling of what Geraldine must’ve felt when she’d been unable to tell him about Zoe and the pacemaker.
He cursed under his breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. Families. They were too bloody complicated.
Charles and Geraldine aren’t your family, though.
He really didn’t want to go to that garden party in Buckinghamshire. He always avoided that party because he had no wish to see Cassandra ever again.
Not after she’d used him.
She wanted to be connected to an aristocratic family who was just that. Aristocratic. Maybe they had a job like barrister or solicitor, even banker, but she’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want a duke who was a surgeon and absolutely committed to his work.
There had been many times she’d been angry he’d missed some kind of function because a patient had been in need.
“Have someone else do it! You’re the Duke of Weatherstone. You promised you’d be there.”
“I’m well aware of my title, Cassandra, but first and foremost I’m a surgeon. My patient needed me.”
“Is this how it’s going to be? You’re going to leave me high and dry at social functions because someone needs surgery?”
“Yes. Someone’s life is more important than a party. I’m a surgeon first, Cassandra, and a duke second.”
That had been the argument that had ended it all, although the relationship had been on its last legs ever since he’d explained that he was at risk of heart problems.
