Her expression grew wistful. “My father. It was his favorite diversion after work.” She proceeded to deal the first card and he checked it, happy to find an ace.
He selected five counters and pushed them toward the middle of the table. “And what was your father’s profession, if you don’t mind my asking?”
She dealt the second card. “He was a physician.” She checked her cards without a hint of what it contained.
Henry did the same, frustrated to see a five. “I’ll split my hand,” he said, placing his cards face down on the table and adding an additional five counters. She gave him two more cards and he was happy to discover that one was a queen. “It makes sense then, that you would become a nurse.”
She added five counters as well and dealt herself another card. “My father taught me everything he knew. He was not of the opinion that women should be restricted on account of their sex. Had it been up to him, I would likely have gone to university to study medicine.”
He presented her with his vingt-et-un before collecting his winnings. “Does it bother you that you couldn’t?”
She gathered up the cards and handed the deck over to him. “I have been blessed with incredibly good fortune, Mr. Lowell. In some ways I believe I may have been able to accomplish more than most physicians do in their lifetimes.”
Well, that was a pretty boastful statement. And yet she didn’t sound as if she was trying to show off, although he was of the opinion that she gave her profession more credit than it deserved if she honestly believed that being a nurse was a greater accomplishment than being a physician. The difference was, a nurse wasn’t trained to do a physician’s work, while a physician could easily do what a nurse was trained to do, if necessary.
But perhaps Viola viewed herself differently. If her father really had taught her everything he knew, then perhaps she was able to set a broken limb and maybe even perform minor surgery. He considered this while shuffling the cards and dealing, watching her closely as he did so.
“Does Florian let you help in the operating room sometimes?” he asked.
She gave her card a quick look and pushed a few counters forward. A swift nod followed. “I often assist.” She raised her gaze and met his across the short distance between them. A fire burned there, and in that moment Henry wished she would feel such passion for him. “I was there when he operated on you. It was I who cleaned your wound and handed your brother the necessary tools.” The smile she gave him next was conspiratorial in nature. “I have seen inside you, Mr. Lowell.”
He held his breath, aware only of her stormy eyes and the pounding of his own heart. “And what did you find?” Were they even talking about his wound anymore?
She paused for so long he was almost tempted to reach out and shake her. But then she chuckled and leaned back, relaxing against her chair. “A bloody mess.” And with that final statement, she placed her cards face up to reveal two kings and an ace.
Damnation! He’d been so mesmerized by her he hadn’t even known he’d continued to deal. “I think I’d like a brandy,” he muttered.
She grinned openly, and for a second he knew he saw her. The true Viola. The one she hid from the world with her serious façade. To his stupefaction, it occurred to Henry that what he wanted most in the world was to make her laugh like this daily. He wanted to be the man who made her happy.
The realization quieted his mind in a way few things had in recent years. He’d been so busy turning The Red Rose into the successful club it now was and helping his father with his financial difficulties, he’d had no time to reflect on what really mattered. For the past year he’d thought it was getting married, and perhaps that was true if his bride-to-be was a woman of Viola Cartwright’s dedication and intellect. He didn’t like knowing that the most he could hope to have with her was a brief acquaintance destined to end the moment he left the hospital.
“The best I can offer is a glass of wine. And only if you are ailing.”
He ignored the melancholy trying to grasp him and asked her as seriously as he could manage, “Would it help if I told you I feel a fever coming on?”
The palm of her hand went swiftly to his forehead, cool and soothing and oh so wonderful. “Hmmm... Perhaps a small glass of wine would do you some good,” she said, and went to fetch one.
“I was hoping you would join me,” he said when she returned with only one glass in her hand.
“I am working, Mr. Lowell. To imbibe even a little would be irresponsible.” She handed him the glass and resumed her seat by his bed while he drank.
Henry savored the spicy liquid even though it wasn’t the best he’d ever had. But he supposed the wine they kept here was for medicinal purposes and not for the sake of enjoyment. Still, it soothed and comforted and made him feel wonderfully relaxed. “Thank you.” He eyed the cards still on the table. “Shall we play some more?”
“If you like.”
They finished five more rounds before Henry was forced to name Viola the overall winner. He helped put the counters back in the box where they belonged while she collected the cards.
“My brother says the Duchess of Tremaine is the hospital’s protector,” Henry said in the hope of encouraging more conversation and making her stay. Viola stilled, and Henry proceeded with the question he wanted to ask. “I was wondering if I might be able to meet her while I am here.”
Viola slowly tied the cards together with a ribbon and placed the deck and the box of counters in a small drawstring pouch. “Why the interest?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I find the notion of any woman building a business and running it successfully a fascinating one.”
Viola crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Really?”
“It cannot have been easy, is what I mean. I am simply impressed, that is all.” When Viola raised an eyebrow, he sighed. “Very well, I am also a little bit curious to see what she looks like, considering she never sets foot in Society.”
“But you must have heard rumors?” She toyed with the skirt of her gown as if transfixed by the way the fabric moved.
