‘What was it you wanted to tell me?’ Luc asked.
She felt uncomfortable with her own lack of disclosure, especially after Luc had bared his soul like that, but her emotions were in a turmoil, and when she tried to assemble her thoughts to confess all, her brain simply refused to cooperate. Aware that Luc was still waiting on a response, Sheila forced herself to smile and busied herself with the haversack. ‘Nothing important. We haven’t eaten our picnic,’ she said, beginning to unpack it. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’
* * *
She barely saw him for the next ten days as the rest of the hospital staff settling in, and Luc’s attention turned to the imminent arrival of the first patients. Sheila did as they had agreed and concentrated on her work. For the most part, she managed. When she did not, when she caught herself staring at him, it was never for long, and as far as she could tell no one, not even Luc, noticed. The fact that he spent most of his time with the medical staff made it easier.
* * *
The first patients arrived towards the end of April. ‘Long-term cases,’ one of the younger nurses told her as they went through stores one day. ‘Some of them absolutely hopeless. But Dr Durand, he says no case is hopeless. He doesn’t make any promises, mind, but there’s just something about him that sort of inspires trust in the patients,’ she said with a dreamy smile. ‘You can see it in their faces when he talks to them. He never minces his words, none of this stiff upper lip, old son nonsense. No, he tells them it’s going to be a long and painful process, and he tells them it’s going to be tough, and they respect him for that, Miss Fraser, and every single nurse in the hospital does, too. It makes our job a lot easier, let me tell you.’ The nurse laughed self-consciously. ‘Listen to me, going on like a love-struck schoolgirl. Mind you, I’m not alone. Most of the nurses have a crush on him. What do you think of him?’
‘I find him very professional,’ Sheila said determinedly, and carried on counting bandages.
* * *
The first board meeting, which she attended with her trepidation kept well under wraps, was for her a landmark. The board members, predictably, tried to direct their questions to Luc, but he was so adept and resolute in redirecting them back to Sheila that they were forced to engage with her. And once she began to speak, her voice stopped quavering, she stopped sitting like someone there on sufferance, and they actually seemed impressed by her knowledge.
‘Thank you for having faith in me,’ she said to Luc afterwards as she tidied up the papers in what had formerly been the room where the laird managed his estate.
‘I did nothing except give you the opportunity. You are the one who took it,’ he replied.
‘I did, didn’t I!’ she said, smiling broadly, relieved that it was over but delighted with how it had gone. ‘That toffee-nosed lawyer was even calling me Miss Fraser by the end of the meeting, although it looked as if it might kill him.’
‘I rather thought he was afraid you would kill him when he tried to tell you your figures were wrong.’
‘Was I rude?’
Luc shook his head. ‘Formidable, not rude.’
He was smiling at her. Not the Dr Durand smile, but Luc’s smile. Their eyes met and it was there between them. Awareness. Tension. He lifted his hand as if he would touch her, then let it fall. ‘I have my first jaw reconstruction scheduled for tomorrow.’
She asked him for details, at first because she didn’t want him to leave, and then because she was genuinely interested. He talked, and she became immersed in the discussion, which moved from this first patient to the next five.
‘One of the men lives in Cornwall,’ he said, ‘and he’ll be with us for several months. It’s so remote here if you don’t have access to a motor car, which, let’s face it, most people don’t. It makes it almost impossible for families to visit, something that I believe is crucial to the patients’ well-being. We need to find a way to provide guest accommodation for visitors.’
Sheila smiled. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea. There are some old tied cottages that belonged to the estate that could perhaps be used. Although the board might balk at the expense.’
‘You pull a proposal together and we’ll present it together at the next board meeting. What chance do the board have against us both?’ Luc said. ‘We make a formidable team, you and I.’
This time he did reach for her, putting a hand on each of her shoulders. Their eyes met again. She tilted her head in invitation. His mouth hovered over hers, then moved to her cheek, and he kissed her, Parisian-style, as he had once before, then turned abruptly away. ‘I think I’d better go,’ he said.
The door closed softly behind him. Sheila stared after it for a moment, then began to gather up her papers.
Chapter Nine
It was the first of May, and Sheila was heading back to the village with her mother after an early-morning walk on the moors. It was a beautiful morning, with the sun just rising over the hills, the sky pale blue tinged with pink and gold.
‘I’m glad you’re home,’ Mrs Fraser said. ‘I know Glen Massan is the last place you want to be—no, don’t deny it, I’m not daft—and I don’t blame you, either. You’ve had four years away from the place—you must feel as if your wings have been clipped.’
Sheila smiled in relief. ‘Flora said you’d understand.’
‘Flora’s got an old head on those wee shoulders of hers. A chip off the old block, as they say—and I mean her mother, not her poor father. Her ladyship would never admit it, but she misses Flora terribly. I missed you, too, lass, but I know you have your own life to lead. I’m proud of you, you know. This terrible war has created opportunities we never had in my day. I’m glad to see you’ve got the gumption to take yours, even if it does offend her ladyship.’
‘Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.’
‘Will you be staying on in your role at Glen Massan, now the hospital’s up and running?’
Her mother’s tone was diffident. Sheila laughed. ‘Why do I get the feeling that’s a leading question?’
‘Just because I want to know if my own daughter will be staying at home!’ Mrs Fraser exclaimed indignantly. ‘Well, if you must know,’ she admitted when Sheila drew her a sceptical look, ‘we were wondering about Ronnie Oliphant’s wee laddie.’
‘I didn’t even know Ronnie was married.’
‘To Shona. They got engaged before the war. I told you, I’m sure I told you. You remember, he was reported missing but he was actually in hospital. When he finally came home, he told Shona he didn’t expect her to keep her promise because of his injuries, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So anyway, to cut a long story short, they had a bairn about a year ago. A wee boy. He’s got something wrong with his mouth. The doctor said he needed an operation, but he’d have to go to Glasgow, and it was going to cost a small fortune. It’s a crying shame for the wee mite, it’s so disfiguring and I just wondered...’
‘Màthair, you know the hospital is only permitted to accept military patients. The laird is absolutely adamant on that.’
‘It just seems wrong, a place like that on our doorstep, and the village relying on that old doctor who has one foot in the grave himself,’ Mrs Fraser exclaimed. ‘There’s hardly a soul in the village that hasn’t worked for the Carmichaels at one time or another, and besides, Ronnie Oliphant is military. He gave a leg and an eye for his country. Couldn’t you have a word with that charming French doctor of yours?’
‘How do you know he’s charming?’
‘You mean apart from reading between the lines of what you don’t say?’ Mrs Fraser said with an arch look. ‘Well, there’s Morag and Mhairi who work in the kitchens, for a start. And there’s Mrs Watson from the shop. She was awfully impressed when she saw the doctor out swimming in the loch the other morning. He must have the constitution of an ox to brave that water. But it’s not his charm I’m interested in. You’re always telling me that he’s able to perform miracles, Sheila. What’s wrong w
ith him performing a wee miracle for one of us?’
‘Because the rules were laid down by the laird.’
‘The laird! He gave up his estate. He’s no right to any say in the matter, if you ask me.’
‘Màthair, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been talking to Flora’s husband. You sound quite revolutionary.’
‘I just want what’s fair, and I’m not the only one. The Carmichaels have a duty to this village. We need someone to speak up for us, Sheila, and no one’s in a better position to do that than you. They’re all talking about you, you know. So I said I’d ask.’
They had reached the crossroads where Sheila turned to go to the Big House. ‘I can’t promise anything,’ she said, torn between pride and a horrible feeling that her mother was reaching for the sky.
‘You can promise to try, that’s all I ask. And, Sheila,’ Mrs Fraser said, catching her daughter’s hand, ‘it’s the laird you must speak to, not that doctor of yours. I don’t want him to do something that might compromise his position just to please you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you think I’m blind and deaf? I know there’s something between the two of you.’
‘We work together, Màthair, that’s all.’
Mrs Fraser laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Aye, of course it is,’ she said.
* * *
Sheila walked past the Lodge towards the Big House, her head whirling. Unable to face her office just yet, she headed for the grounds. The walled kitchen garden, which had been used for target practice in the early days of the requisition, was being rebuilt, but it was too early for work to have started for the day. She perched on a pile of bricks stacked in a sunny spot in the far corner where once the herbs had grown and tried to sort out her thoughts.
She wasn’t in love with Luc; her mother had that one all wrong. She admired him, yes. She enjoyed his company. They understood one another. Trusted one another. Valued each other’s opinion. She liked him. In fact, yes, she’d go so far as to say she counted him a friend. A good friend. Whom she also found very attractive. But that was beside the point, because acting on that attraction was strictly out of bounds, because...
She closed her eyes and saw his face. She let herself remember the way he kissed her, the way he touched her, the way her body responded to him, and for a delightful few moments, she couldn’t remember why on earth they would deny themselves something so pleasurable, and so perfect.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to face reality. Luc had been very clear when he’d told her about Eugenie. He was married to his work; it would always come first. Whatever he felt for her, he would not allow it to develop into anything more meaningful. She had assured him she felt the same, and she’d meant it. She’d been so sure the ghost of Mark Seaton would help her keep her promise.
But what she felt for Luc was nothing like what she felt for Mark Seaton. Luc was nothing like Mark Seaton. He’d made it very clear how much he valued her work, and how much he relied on her. He didn’t want to lose her. But if he discovered what she really felt for him...
‘No!’ Sheila jumped to her feet and began to pace the paved walkway that ran diagonally across the garden. ‘No,’ she muttered, but now it was there, the truth refused to be dislodged. She was in love with Luc. It was so obvious, even her mother had realised it, but she’d been so determined...
She came to an abrupt halt. If her mother knew, then who else had noticed? The nurses, the other doctors, the staff? There would be talk. She knew from bitter experience what kind of talk there would be. Not everyone valued her the way Luc did. Some resented her. Some thought she had too much influence. What if the talk reached the board? And Luc?
He would feel sorry for her. Or he’d be embarrassed. Or he’d think she’d lied to him. Any of it or all of it, she couldn’t bear it. He’d think she was a poor wee soul, and though he might keep her on out of pity, everything would be spoilt. She began her pacing again. ‘He mustn’t know, he absolutely must not ever find out,’ she said. ‘Màthair knows, but she wouldn’t talk about it. Though how she knows— I have to stop talking about Luc. That must be it. If I can guard my tongue, and if I can find a way to erase the kisses, and forget we ever made love, and...’
Sheila groaned. What was she thinking of! She was in love with him. That wasn’t going to go away. And yet nothing could come of it. It would be torture having to see Luc every day. The only option was for her to leave.
She made her way back to Glen Massan House with a heavy heart. Thinking about leaving it made her feel sick, but though she cudgelled her brain, locked away alone in her office for the whole morning, she could come up with no other solution. She had to go.
* * *
‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ Luc said, closing the office door behind him.
Below the desk, Sheila clasped her hands tightly together. It was a week since she’d realised she was in love with him, but every time she saw him, her resolution to leave faltered. Every hour, every day with him was precious. ‘You’ve been very busy,’ she said, ‘and so have I. I’ve finished the proposal to convert the tied houses into guest accommodation.’
‘I know, I’ve read it. It’s excellent. I’m sure we’ll carry the day,’ Luc said, crossing the room to perch on her desk. ‘You look tired.’
‘How did the surgery go today?’
‘Fine. The initial procedure was fairly routine. It will get much trickier later. What’s wrong, Sheila?’
‘Nothing.’
‘That’s the smile you give Matron MacDonald. Have I upset you?’
‘No.’ He drew her an odd look, obviously quite unconvinced. Unwilling to have him probe further, Sheila launched into the second most important topic, which was keeping her awake at night. ‘I was wondering, Dr Durand, what would happen if the terms of the trust were broken—if you took on a patient who was not referred by the army, for example?’
‘We couldn’t. The terms are quite explicit.’
‘Yes, but what if you did,’ she asked impatiently. ‘Surely the demand from the army will dry up at some point in the future. Then you’ll run out of patients.’
Luc sighed in exasperation. ‘Sheila, my tenure here is for five years. Unfortunately, thanks to the war, we won’t run out of patients in that time, but just to be clear, the terms of the trust are very precise. It is the one point, as you know, upon which Lord Carmichael is adamant. The hospital named for his son is for the military only. If I deliberately broke the rules, I’d probably be dismissed. Does that answer your question?’
‘Even if it was a life-changing case?’
Luc got to his feet, his eyes narrowing. ‘What life-changing case?’
And that answered that question, Sheila thought. She couldn’t possibly risk asking Luc to give even a consultation until the laird agreed, because Luc wouldn’t be able to resist operating. ‘There isn’t one,’ she said, shuffling the papers on her desk. ‘It was a hypothetical question.’
She was so busy concentrating on not looking at him that she didn’t notice him move until his hands were on her arms, and he pulled her out of her seat. ‘It’s because I almost kissed you, isn’t it?’ he demanded, ‘after the board meeting. That’s why you are avoiding me.’
She was so surprised, she could think of nothing to say.
‘I knew it,’ he said, misreading her silence. ‘I know you don’t want this complication any more than I do. If only you were not so— I don’t understand it.’ He smoothed his hand over her hair. ‘What is it about you, Sheila Fraser, that makes it so impossible for me to resist you?’
If she moved, he would put his arms around her. She allowed herself to imagine resting against his chest, her cheek on the starched white cotton of his coat, and to pretend that he was falling in love with her. It was not such a big step. He had just admitted he found it almost impossible to resist her. But even as she thought about giving in, he was getting ready to leave.
‘Forge
t it. I’m sorry. I have ward rounds in ten minutes.’
Sheila sat back down at her desk, picking up a paper at random and giving him a prim smile. ‘Then I’ll let you go. Unless there was anything else, Dr Durand?’
‘No, thank you, Miss Fraser. Good day.’
As the door closed behind him, Sheila dropped her head into her hands. One more minute, a few more seconds, and she would have given into temptation and kissed him. Would it have been so wrong?
She lifted her head and straightened her shoulders. ‘Face facts,’ she said to herself. ‘Luc doesn’t love you. And if he did love you, he’d want you out of here because you’d just be a distraction. You can live without Luc, but you can’t live without a purpose. So you have to go and find another job. Now.’
Without giving herself any further time to think, she picked up the telephone and asked to be connected to the Lodge. There was something important she had to do before she left.
Chapter Ten
‘I need to speak to you.’
‘I’m very busy, Miss Fraser.’
He had been using that brusque, businesslike tone in his dealings with her since their last meeting three days ago. Sheila closed the door of what had been the old sewing room behind her and leaned against it. She felt quite nauseous. ‘It’s important.’
Luc folded his hands on the blotting paper. ‘Well?’
She pulled herself up to her full height. ‘I want you to accept my resignation.’
He looked momentarily thunderstruck, but quickly recovered. ‘Nonsense. There is no need for such drastic action. I think I’ve proved to you in these past few days that I am perfectly capable of maintaining a professional distance. You need have no fears on that score.’
Sheila crossed the room and sat down on the chair opposite his desk. ‘It’s not that. Not about us, I mean. I—I met with the laird.’ Just the memory of it made her stomach muscles clench.
‘About the tied houses?’
Never Forget Me Page 23
