Oh, he was not expecting that. Eyebrows drawing together, he says, “Why is that necessary? I’m her husband.”
“All the same, you’ll need to leave,” she said, switching to her stern doctor’s voice. “Doctor-patient confidentiality is absolute.”
He’s eyeing her sourly, but he nods, leaving the room with one more significant look at me.
“Quite a handful, isn’t he?” she chuckles as she pulls out her stethoscope.
“This entire weekend has been like some kind of Circus of the Damned that Satan would put on as a little treat for everyone who’s waist-deep in boiling tar,” I say, rubbing my face.
She laughs again, heartily and looking a bit startled about it. “I fear I canna help you there, but let’s take a look at your injuries. You look impressively healthy for someone who toppled over a cliff and spent the night in the wilderness.”
“It was only twelve hours or so,” I mumble, “I’m a wee bit embarrassed that you had to fly all the way out here to see me.”
“This is my job,” she says. “Now then, let’s start with the ankle, shall we?”
After an exhaustive examination, she proclaims me healthy, aside from the scrapes and bruises. “Your ankle is badly sprained,” she says, wrapping it tightly. “I brought crutches and a walking boot. Use the crutches for the first three or four days, then you can walk - slowly and carefully, please - in the boot. Contact me immediately if there are any stabbing pains or your discomfort seems to get worse, rather than better. Here’s some mild pain meds and antibiotics, just to be sure that poor elbow doesn’t get infected, aye?”
“Thank you, Doc.” I’m eyeing those pain pills because what with getting dragged out of the wilderness and the whole tub ordeal with Dougal, one of those sounds very nice right now.
She’s still seated next to me on the bed and she pulls her bag into her lap. “While there are things I am required by the oath of my clan to disclose to the heads of the family, there are things that as a woman, I will never divulge. Have you and Dougal been intimate yet?”
“I… that’s…” How did we jump from my sprained foot to my sex life?
“I ask because I feel every woman should be in a position to choose when she gets pregnant,” she says earnestly. “I can give you a contraceptive shot that’s good for six months if you wish.”
The lower part of me is suddenly picturing Dougal naked, I blame the sight of his muscled forearms and all those tattoos on display when he’d bathed me. Fortunately, the upper half is still under control. “No, we have not,” I exhaled slowly. “As much as I hate your family - no offense Doc -”
“None taken,” she agrees placidly.
“- I don’t think they would take a woman against her will, so it will never happen.” I finish.
“You would be correct about how sexual assault is viewed in this clan.” She’s angry now, “It is a crime punishable by death. But back to you. Would you like a contraceptive shot?”
I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this absurd forced marriage, but I know it will be impossible once I have children with Dougal. “Yes, please. This is between us?”
“On my oath,” she says seriously, “I hope one day you’re happier with Dougal and can tell him about it, but it is your story to tell and no one else’s.”
One injection later, I suddenly throw my arms around her. “Thank you,” I whisper fervently, “This is the only choice I’ve been able to make for myself.”
“Best wishes for the right outcome,” she says, hugging me back. “Though I dinna ken what that would be.” She shuts the door as she leaves, though I know she’s having a conversation with a hovering Dougal. Eventually, it’s quiet and I close my eyes with a sigh.
Dougal gives me a full ten minutes of peace before striding through the door and scooping me up, bridal-style. He’s changed out of his jeans and sweater into a dark grey suit, a white shirt, and a red silk tie. He looks more like a handsome, well-groomed businessman than the demonic thug that he is.
“Give me the crutches!” I protest, “The doctor told me she left them for me.”
“And you tryin’ to crack me over the head with them? I think not.” Dougal grins insolently, “Besides, attempting to manage that steep staircase and risking a fall? This is easier. I have some video conference calls I need to make. Have ya’ had enough of the great outdoors, or would you like to sit on the deck with a good book and your foot propped up? It’s a shame to waste a sunny day.”
“What I would like to do is have a discussion about our sham marriage and finding an alternate-”
He’s suddenly furious, jaw tight and he turns toward his office. Seating me lengthwise on the big leather couch there so my bandaged foot is up, he pulls one of the armchairs over.
“Very well, wife, let’s chat,” he says coldly. “Your father was notified of your failure to steal the item and of our subsequent marriage. He chose to handle this information by burning two of our biggest clubs to the ground.”
“Crivvens,oh my god!” I feel sick. “Was anyone killed? Hurt?”
“Two security guards got thrown quite a pace from the explosions, but no burns.”
My overwhelming feeling of relief disappears. “Wait. How do you know it’s my father?”
