“Dr. Barkley and I have spoken extensively, and I unfortunately will not be able to oversee your studies in Glasgow. What with my work for the police there, as well as myown practice, I don’t have the time for a student to follow me.” He paused. “Nor would I, in good conscience, allow a lady to shadow me. Not in that city.”
Grace blinked again, his words barely registering as her hopes and dreams were once again dashed, like glass shattering on the floor. How many rejection letters did she have upstairs in her room? Dozens, if not more, all from colleges and universities that had refused her entry into their schools, all because she was a woman.
How many times must she suffer because of her sex?
“I see,” she said softly, her eyes unfocused.
“I am sorry that I did not have happier news, but you must know, it would be near impossible.”
She nodded and when she didn’t speak, he turned to leave, his arm very nearly brushing against her shoulder.
The dismissal was enough to sting, but something within Grace’s chest seemed to snap and she turned on her heel.
“Twenty-one schools have rejected me, Dr. Hall. Twenty-one. Every single medical school in the country.”
The tall man turned back, his blue eyes piteous beneath his black brows.
“There are only twenty schools that teach medicine.”
“Oh yes,” she said with an exasperated bob of her head. “I applied to one in Italy as well.”
He frowned.
“I am sorry for that, Miss Sharpe, but—”
“All of who accepted me when I reapplied under the name of Andrew Sharpe.” She paused, hoping to let that information sink in. “I am not arrogant, Dr. Hall, nor boastful, but I am capable. I have a mind for medicine, my experience and abilities are demonstrative of that and if I had just…” She swallowed, fighting off the building emotion. She needed to quell it, control it, lest he use it against her for being dramatic or hysterical. Sheinhaled and exhaled slowly before continuing. “If I had just an opportunity to show you my abilities, I promise, you would not be disappointed.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sharpe,” he said firmly. “But my answer is still no.”
No. It was the vilest word in the entire English language and yet one that seemed most attracted to her. No, she couldn’t study to be a doctor. No, she wasn’t clever enough for medicine. No, she wasn’t fit for doing the thing she loved most in the world.
She was forever having to prove those no’s wrong.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the doctor approach.
“It was not my intent to make you cry, Miss Sharpe.”
“Cry?” She laughed, worried for a moment that she was, but thankfully the water in her eyes was dispelled by several blinks. “Sir, there is nothing in this world that you could do or say that would make me cry.” She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders before staring him straight in the eye. “It is no matter. I’m used to rejection.”
To his credit, Dr. Hall appeared fully focused on her in that moment, as if he were debating something internally. He opened his mouth to speak, but Grace held her hand up once more to silence him.
“Please, Dr. Hall, whatever it is you’re going to say, I pray you keep it to yourself.”
“I was just going to say—”
“I am not your student and there is nothing outside of medicine that you could say that would interest me.” She gave him a tight smile as if trying to convey that she was not bothered in the slightest. “Excuse me.”
Grace was quick to move away from him, grateful that the hallway had become crowded.
“Miss Sharpe, wait,” he called after her, but she did not stop.
She would not waste a single moment more in his presence and what’s more, she needed privacy.
Stepping quickly over the flagstone floors, she was down the hall and in her aunt’s private study, locking the door behind her should she be followed.
The quiet of the room was in stark contrast to the rest of the house that was buzzing with activity. And just as she convinced herself that she was just going to have to pursue her studies from yet another angle, a wayward tear fell down her cheek. She immediately wiped it away, angry at herself for giving in to her hurt feelings.
She was used to rejection, used to everyone telling her no or that she wasn’t capable. Well, everyone outside of her family. Her sisters had always fanned the flames of her passion, but there was no use for it apparently, because she could not pursue her dreams. Ever.
