Earl of Oakhurst

by Madeline Martin

  He pulled the crimson book off the shelf once more and handed it to her with a wink. “I shall leave ye to yer reading, my lady.” With that, he strode from the room and informed George to not only watch for incoming mail, but also to ready the carriage.

  Unbeknownst to Dr. Cooper, MacKenzie would be having an impromptu meeting with the President of the Chirurgical Society of London. No matter what it took, MacKenzie would ensure by the end of the meeting, Penelope was accepted back at St. Thomas’s. He was a gentleman, yes, but he could be base when it served him best.

  After all, he was not a Wicked Earl for nothing.

  Three days later, Penelope was back at St. Thomas’s Hospital, much to the displeasure of Dr. Bailey. She’d received the letter from Dr. Cooper welcoming her back just that morning and was able to resume her usual tasks of assisting surgeons with their work, as well as taking on some minor cases on her own.

  Returning to the bustle of the hospital was like breathing again. It pacified a need inside of her nothing else could touch. It was knowledge and curiosity bundled together in an exhilarating package whose contents were always new and surprising.

  She relished everything from bundling the lengths of linen to be used for bindings to the energized rush of an emergency. Before she realized it, the day had slipped by without her knowing. Already, the sun had set and there was no doubt she would be late for dinner.

  She knew James and his grandmother would not be cross with her, but still it displeased her that she’d been so careless of the time.

  The thought of James made her cheeks go hot. As it always did.

  They often spent apart their days, only crossing from time to time in the library. Their nights, however, were enjoyed together as they explored every part of one another in intimate, lurid detail until both were slick with sweat and exhausted from spent pleasure.

  James had been correct. Page eighty-five was indeed interesting. Though thirty-two and seventy-eight held their own appeal as well.

  Quickly, Penelope performed one final round on the patients who had been in her care that day and still remained. One bed, however, she found empty.

  A dresser stood near it. The dresser assisted the physicians and surgeons with bandaging wounds of patients, taking their notes and doing minor tasks such as stripping the mattress of its linens, as he did now.

  “What happened to this patient?” she asked. “He’d come in with a gangrenous toe. Surely, he was not sent on his way after its removal.”

  The dresser shrugged. “He died, as far as I understand it. Dr. Bailey took his toe and the man did not survive the procedure.”

  Penelope hid her surprise that Dr. Bailey had performed the surgery when he of all people would see a surgeon’s job as beneath him.

  “I see,” Penelope said slowly. “Thank you.”

  Death was not uncommon in St. Thomas’s. Hospitals were not safe places for people who were unwell with so much illness about, but it was often the only option for many deficient in adequate income. No doubt the patient had other ailments that had prevented his body from rallying after the shock of a removed appendage.

  And yet, the young man had seemed so healthy when he’d arrived.

  Penelope left the room and caught sight of a petite brunette with a square set to her shoulders heading in her direction.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” Penelope said with a smile.

  The older nurse stopped in her tracks and offered an exaggerated curtsey. “Lady Oakhurst.” She offered Penelope a rare grin. The woman had elbowed her way into a world of men with an aggressiveness Penelope could appreciate. Miss Elizabeth was a force to be contended with when one opposed her, and a fierce and loyal companion should one be so lucky as to call her a friend.

  And Penelope was lucky indeed to have a woman such as her as an ally.

  “Oh, you needn’t bother with all that.” Penelope waved her hand.

  “Welcome back, my lady.” The nurse waggled her brows. “I heard your husband went to Dr. Cooper on your behalf. Threatened to punch him no less, if you were not reinstated.”

  “Did he?” Penelope asked, horrified.

  Miss Elizabeth appeared nonplused. “The pompous ass probably deserved it.” She chortled. “How were your patients today? Did they make you wish you were still far from the hospital?”

  “Not at all. It’s wonderful to be back. Only…” Penelope lowered her voice. “Did you see the patient this morning with the toe that required removal?”

  Miss Elizabeth grimaced. “I certainly remember that toe.”

  “And what about the man himself?”

  They both shifted out of the way as a surgeon strode by with a bloodied apron. “Fit as a fiddle,” Miss Elizabeth said. “Easy on the eyes too.”

  Penelope leaned closer to ensure no one would hear her. “He didn’t survive the surgery. Dr. Bailey apparently performed the procedure. I don’t—”

  “Don’t go stirring up trouble just yet on your first day returned, my lady.” Miss Elizabeth glanced about and whispered, “Dr. Bailey has started handling some of the surgeries of late. Several have not had good outcomes.”

  A cold knot of fear tightened in Penelope’s stomach as she recalled having questioned Dr. Bailey prior to her prompt dismissal from the hospital.

  “You’ll wrinkle that pretty brow furrowing it so much.” The nurse tilted her head toward the doorway. “Put it from your thoughts and get home in time for a proper dinner with your new husband, eh?”

  “Of course,” Penelope eased her face into the amiable mask she’d spent a lifetime wearing. But the concern about Dr. Bailey did not abate. At least not until she found herself downstairs and discovered it was not her mother waiting for her, but James.

  Excitement fluttered low in her belly at the sight of him, regal and handsome with a silk cravat and a green waistcoat that turned the moss of his eyes to a deeper shade of green.

  “Good evening, Lady Oakhurst.” He gallantly offered her his arm. “I asked yer mother for the privilege of seeing ye home. She was quite excited at the prospect and agreed before I could even complete the request.”

  Penelope laughed as she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. She hadn’t noticed how chilled her fingers were until they met the heat of his body. He always ran hot, which she greatly appreciated because she always ran far too cold.

  “I’m surprised she did not set you up to the task herself.” Penelope looked up at him. He’d shaved recently, as not a whisper of a beard showed on his smooth jaw. For her? “Did your grandmother suggest you come?”

  James led her out into frigid night air where their carriage awaited. “Well, yes.”

  A flash of disappointment struck Penelope, as swift as it was surprising.

  “But no’ before I’d made the decision to come myself.” James winked at her and sent Penelope’s heart pounding. “She did, however, suggest I inform Lady Bursbury of my intent to ensure she dinna take the time to do it herself, which I’d egregiously no’ considered prior to her consideration.”

  Penelope climbed into the carriage and James followed, settling himself in the padded seat opposite her, his face suddenly serious. “I wanted to ensure they dinna give ye any difficulty on yer first day. Specifically, regarding Dr. Bailey.”

  His concern brought a grateful smile to her lips. “That was kind of you. Thank you.”

  The carriage rolled forward in the direction of Oakhurst Place. Home. It was a curious thing how quickly she’d come to think of it as such.

  “I heard you visited Dr. Cooper on my behalf.” Penelope studied James for his reaction.

  He shrugged. “Some men need to be nudged toward the path of reason.”

  Penelope cleared her throat. “Did you also threaten to assault him?”

  “Some men need a harder nudge than others.” He leaned forward and took her icy hands in his larger, warm ones. “Ye’re damn good at medicine, Penelope. Better than most of the butchers they employ at St. Thomas’s or any other h
ospital in London. I’ve seen what ye’ve done for my grandmother and know what ye could do for others. Those men are fools for having forced ye out.”

  Penelope’s heart caught in her chest. Aside from her mother, no one had ever stood so stoically at her side in support of her practice of medicine.

  “Ye met their requirements to return,” James continued. “There was no’ a single reason why they shouldna have invited ye back the day after our wedding. Especially considering the heavy sacrifice on yer part by marrying me.” He gave her a roguish grin.

  “It hasn’t been so terribly difficult,” she confessed.

  “That’s verra kind of ye to say.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Now tell me how everything went today.”

  Penelope regarded him, feeling a new sense of shyness with her husband she hadn’t felt before. “I don’t want to bore you.”

  “Ye never bore me. Quite the opposite, actually.”

  And with such a reply, how could she not comply with his request? She told him about her day and the patients she saw, and even about Dr. Bailey and her suspicions. The latter made his eyes narrow with a protectiveness Penelope found she rather liked.

  That night when they were alone in her chamber, their bodies naked and entwined, she found herself unable to take her gaze from her husband and unable to stop the swelling of her heart within her chest. Of course, it didn’t actually swell. She knew the science behind the organ’s shape and its inability to increase in a healthy chest.

  However, she also knew what was happening to her was not at all physical, but entirely emotional. And that was what scared her most.

  For all of the schemes her mother had employed, Penelope now feared it was not James who had been susceptible, but Penelope herself who had gone and fallen in love.

  11

  James couldn’t concentrate on anything in front of him. He pushed aside the account ledgers he’d been going over. And over. And over. All without actually seeing a line of it. Not when his thoughts were anchored on Penelope.

  He didn’t like her suspicions of Dr. Bailey. And he especially didn’t like how the worry of it plucked at her. Penelope was not the kind of woman who would simply dismiss such a thing as a physician ill-handling his patients. She was too fervent in her drive to understand everything. Except what had made her so good at medical practice could now perpetuate a very serious, very real danger.

  What troubled him even further was his concern of her. She was his wife, of course. That, and he’d always been raised to protect women. But there was something more…

  How he felt about her.

  The only time he’d ever had even a whisper of the emotion in his chest now was with Lady Judith. And that paled in comparison to the hum spreading through him when he thought of Penelope.

  His mouth lifted in a smile as he recalled the night before, how she had practically glowed with excitement as she told him about her day at the hospital. And how she asked each night for him to tell her a story of ancient Greece, or any of the other historical tidbits he could impart upon her.

  He also recalled how she had looked at him later that night when they were alone. As though she wanted to memorize every detail of him. And how he’d already memorized every detail of her.

  “Are you free at the moment?” A voice broke through his musing.

  James lifted his head to find Gemma standing in the doorway.

  He grinned at her. “For ye, Gemma, always.”

  She strode into the study, absent the cane she no longer required, and lowered herself into the chair opposite him. “Lady Judith called on me earlier today.”

  “Thank ye for no’ inviting me to join ye.”

  Gemma cast him a chastising look that he responded to with a shrug.

  “She’s quite upset about your marriage,” Gemma continued. “She believes you wed simply to avoid her.”

  “She’s no’ wrong.” James leaned back in his chair.

  “She also believes your marriage to be a sham.” Gemma sighed. “A marriage of convenience.” She raised her brows in silent question, clearly seeking confirmation.

  “It was a swift marriage, Gemma.”

  “That isn’t an answer, James.” Gemma lifted her chin. “Did you two form a pact to wed without love?”

  James sat forward in his seat and put his elbows on the table. “We did.”

  Gemma nodded, as though her suspicions had been confirmed. “And you do not love her?”

  “No.” James answered the question readily, and yet the response did not feel right even as he said it.

  “You are a liar, James MacKenzie.” Gemma stood up and planted her palms on the surface of the desk.

  He winced at her accusation. “I dinna mean any harm by our agreement to wed, Gemma. I couldna stomach the idea of a marriage to Lady Judith—”

  “I don’t mean that you lied about the marriage of convenience,” Gemma said. “We all knew that. I mean that you are lying to yourself about not being in love with your wife.”

  “In love?” MacKenzie scoffed. “I’m no’ one to fall in love.”

  “But you are.” This time, Gemma spoke more gently. “At least you once fancied yourself in love with Lady Judith, before she chose Gilbert.”

  He glowered. “I thought I did at the time. If the man I am today could go and speak to the boy I was then…” He shook his head. “I dinna know love then and dinna understand what it was.”

  “And you know love now.” Gemma’s eyes gleamed with her victory. “James, you love the woman you married. I see it in the way you discuss your interests with her and how fascinated she is by you. I see it in the way the two of you act around each other with gentleness and respect and a shyness that is terribly endearing. I even see it now in how you say you didn’t understand love with Lady Judith. Because you understand it now, don’t you?”

  MacKenzie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That isna the kind of marriage I have with Penelope.”

  Gemma stared down at him from beneath her frilly lace cap. “Do you know what I think?”

  “Why do I fear ye’ll tell me regardless of what I say?” MacKenzie muttered.

  “Because you know me well, James.” She smiled tenderly at him. “And I know you. Penelope has always been part of the ton. She’s always been sought after. And she doesn’t care a whit. Her lack of concern has finally made you understand the truth even I had not realized all this time. That acceptance by society does not make a man or a woman. It is their actions, their love.”

  To this, MacKenzie simply grunted.

  She glanced up at the bracket clock on the wall. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to St. Thomas’s to see her home?” Her mouth curled up at the corners. “Tonight would be an excellent time to tell her how you feel.” The advice was offered in a sing-song tone that reminded him a bit too much of Lady Bursbury.

  MacKenzie pushed himself to his feet to leave. “Ye’ll do anything for a great-grandchild, won’t ye, Gemma?”

  MacKenzie’s grandmother folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t put me to the test, my boy. Lest you find out I’m quite the one to contend with.”

  “And that’s why I love ye.” He pressed a kiss to her soft, powdered cheek and made his way down to the waiting carriage.

  While he traveled the short ride to St. Thomas’s, Gemma’s words played in his head. He shifted on the padded cushion, crossing one ankle over the other knee and then switching to the other side. Restless.

  Like his mind.

  But not his heart.

  Because though he wished he could discount everything Gemma had said, he could not. Not when she had spoken such truth. It was foolish and reckless and dangerous. But he could not help himself from finally acknowledging that he was in love with Penelope.

  There had been no more nefarious acts at the hospital. At least none that Penelope had seen during her second day back at St. Thomas’s. And she had been looking.

  The patients came in w
ith the usual maladies and were handled accordingly. A few men with cuts from street brawls that were sent to a dresser to bandage their wounds, several who were ill and assigned to beds for monitoring, and an aging man whose chest caused him massive pain. And between it all, Penelope had worked alongside Miss Elizabeth, wrapping strips of linen and re-organizing the vials of medicines that were forever being set hastily in a bin for return to the cabinet.

  Penelope nearly asked Miss Elizabeth if she’d seen anything else suspect, but the other woman’s wary eye stayed Penelope’s tongue. No, if Penelope was going to find something, she would have to do it herself.

  A bellow of pain came from the hall—a sound so intense, Penelope nearly dropped the glass bottle in her hands. Miss Elizabeth cast a bored look over her shoulder, but Penelope set the medicine aside and rushed from the room.

  A man writhed on a stretcher as he was carried through the hospital. He hollered again and grabbed at his thigh; below the knee, his leg was little more than pulpy skin and fragments of bone.

  “What’s happened?” Penelope asked a short, slender surgeon named Mr. Garrison.

  He pushed his spectacles up his nose. “He was working with two large slabs of marble and one fell on his leg. The piece was too heavy to get off him and he was desperate…” He shook his head.

  Penelope inwardly flinched, unable to keep from imagining such a terrible thing.

  “The leg will need to be removed then?” she asked quietly.

  Mr. Garrison pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded.

  Penelope fell back to allow Mr. Garrison to be on his way to see to removing the man’s leg. Though she’d tried often to assist in amputations, it was one of the few tasks she had not been allowed to attend. Doubtless due to her “delicate feminine sensibilities” or some such nonsense.

  She set it from her mind. After all, it was nearly time for her to go home and she refused to be late this time, especially after dinner had been held for her the day before. She went upstairs to see to the patients she had cared for earlier in the day. Once she completed her rounds, she bade Miss Elizabeth a good evening, then practically ran straight into someone as she rounded a corner too quickly.