Prologue
Lismore Hall, Scottish Highlands, June 1856
“There he is,”Grace Sharpe said, standing on her tippytoes to gaze across the ballroom at her Aunt Belle’s seventy-sixth birthday party. The man she had been searching for all evening was speaking to her brother-in-law, Graham McKinnon. “Excuse me, Faith. I’d like to thank him in person.”
“Wait,” her sister said, a note of hesitation in her eyes. But then, she shook her head. “Good luck, Grace.”
Grace grinned, acutely aware of the trepidation in her sister’s voice, but Faith needn’t worry. All Grace wished to do was thank Dr. James Hall for taking her on as a student. She had been trying for months to gain acceptance into any university that would permit a woman to study medicine, but alas, every one of her letters had been rejected and she had to submit to studying under Dr. Barkley. He was a fine mentor, but as Grace had hopes of working in the bustling city of Glasgow as opposed to Glencoe, she needed a teacher who lived in the city. As a former student of Dr. Barkley himself, Dr. Hall had agreed to allow Grace to shadow him over the next six months, or so her aunt had said, and she wished to thank him personally.
Skirting around the crowded ballroom, Grace was careful not to make eye contact with anyone, particularly gentlemen, as to avoid being asked to dance. Although she had helped facilitate this birthday celebration for her aunt, she had no intentions ofparticipating in the festivities. Not when her future was hanging in the balance.
Lifting her chin to peer over guests’ shoulders, she silently cursed her short stature as she saw the familiar outline of Dr. Hall who was now talking with a group of men near the back terrace of the ballroom. Unlike the other men in attendance, Dr. Hall wore slacks as opposed to a kilt, a mark no doubt of his modern professionalism. Grace was bolstered by his dress, believing that if a man didn’t possess an affinity for tradition, he would undoubtedly champion her in her prospects.
“Dr. Hall?” she spoke, causing the man to turn.
Grace had braced herself when the doctor turned, his gray-blue eyes landing on her with curiosity. They had met, briefly, several times over the past year, ever since Grace and her sisters had been removed from London after their grandmother Alice’s death and resettled with their aunt in the Highlands. Ever since the first time their eyes met, Grace had to remind herself to exhale.
He was attractive, more so than most, but what was curious about it was that it affected her. She was never distracted by good looks or charming words. In fact, Grace had been around much handsomer men before, men who outranked Dr. Hall, but there was something about his straight nose, near black brows, and the perplexing scent of lime that hovered about him wherever he went that made Grace aware of his imposing presence.
“Miss Sharpe,” he said with a charming smile. “A pleasure to see you.”
Grace ignored the silly giddiness she felt in her stomach. He was taller than most, though not as broad as her brothers-in-law, but far more pleasing to look at, at least to her. With dark brown hair that was clipped close to his head, as well as a shortbeard which had become fashionable in the last year or so, he appeared every bit professional.
“And you. I was wondering if I might have a word with you? I’m not sure if you were able to speak with Dr. Barkley yet, but—”
“Ah, yes,” he interrupted, shooting a speculative glance at the company around him as his charming smile faded. “Let’s discuss that over here.”
His hand came up to her elbow and the barest of pressure landed against the back of her upper arm. The warmth from his touch caused her pulse to flutter, but she was quick to ignore it. As a student of the body, physical reactions were commonplace and as expected as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.
Dr. Hall escorted her out of the ballroom, across the semi-filled stone floored hallway. As large as Lismore Hall was, it was still rather small for all the guests that had come to the celebration. Still, Grace was aware of the separation she and the doctor had from the other guests.
Stopping just behind the grand stone staircase, Dr. Hall’s hand fell away from her arm and he exhaled.
“I must tell you, Dr. Hall, that I admire your bravery,” she said, continuing her previous train of thought.
The doctor’s dark brows cinched together.
“Bravery?”
“Yes. When I first started shadowing Dr. Barkley on his rounds, he tried very hard to, well, dissuade me, for lack of a better term. He was firm in his belief that women didn’t possess the stomachs nor the devotion that the study of medicine requires. But I was steadfast in my determination and I proved to him that such ideas were antiquated and while it will take years, if not decades to change the hearts and minds of our fellow countrymen about a woman’s right to study medicine, I just wanted to say that I feel very privileged to have yoursupport.” She exhaled soundly. “I’m so very grateful that you’re allowing me to work under your practice in Glasgow.”
It was truly a dream come true for Grace to be allowed to shadow a doctor as prominent and well respected as Dr. Hall. While Dr. Barkley was the primary physician in Glencoe and the neighboring villages in this part of the Highlands, Dr. Hall was a police surgeon in a metropolitan area. The advances in science and medicine that he was able to see and experience would further her education in ways she could not yet imagine and it was her greatest desire to help people.
But the expression on the man’s face seemed conflicted. Grace tilted her head, sure that she had surprised the good doctor with her extensive speech.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” she added quickly, shaking her head. “It’s just that, I’m terribly excited to continue my work and while I will forever be indebted to Dr. Barkley, I believe my strengths in medicine would be best utilized in a surgical atmosphere.”
“Miss Sharpe—”
“And I know,” she interrupted, lifting a hand as if to apologize. “It will take years to learn and prove myself, but I am determined.”
“Miss Sharpe, I regret to inform you that I disagreed with Dr. Barkley’s idea of having you shadow me in Glasgow.”
For a moment, the smile on Grace’s face was frozen. Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. She blinked.
“I’m… I’m sorry?”
A shadow of pity passed over Dr. Hall’s face and the laryngeal prominence of his thyroid cartilage moved up and down as he swallowed. Or rather, his Adam’s apple.
