Page 25 of Prescription for Sin

Their hands brushed as she passed him the teacup, and a jolt like static electricity passed between them. They both froze. For a moment, neither moved, her fingers still touching his, his eyes locked on her face. Then Emma pulled away, trying to ignore how her skin tingled where they’d connected.

Their daily routine had developed a dangerous familiarity. Each morning, as she changed his bandages, her touch seemed to linger longer than strictly necessary. Each evening, as they talked, they found themselves sitting closer, voices dropping to intimate murmurs despite being alone. It was becoming harder to remember why maintaining professional distance mattered so much.

“The stitches are healing well,” she said, forcing clinical detachment into her voice. “Though you’ll need to rest at least another week before—”

A knock at the door had her straightening quickly, suddenly aware of how close she’d been leaning to examine Everett’s wound.

“Miss Brown?” Mrs Norris called through the door. “Dr Kincaid is here to see you.”

Emma groaned internally, part resentment at Michael’s interruption and part shame for this sentiment. “I’ll be right there.” To Everett, she added, “Excuse me. He’s a physician from the hospital.”

She didn’t miss how Everett’s expression had shuttered slightly at the announcement, but she pushed the observation aside as she hurried to make herself presentable.

Michael waited in the parlour, golden hair catching the afternoon light. His smile, when he saw her, held the easy familiarity of long acquaintance. “Emma! I was concerned when you missed rounds this morning.”

“A patient required constant attention,” she explained, gesturing for him to sit.

“Ah yes, your mysterious cemetery patient.” Michael’s tone held a hint of something beyond professional interest. “Mrs Norris mentioned you’d taken in a stranger. You know how I feel about you caring for male patients in your home.”

Emma busied herself with the tea service, avoiding his knowing look. “He was gravely injured. What would you have had me do, leave him to die?”

“Of course not.” Michael accepted the cup she offered, their fingers brushing, but she barely noticed. “I only wonder if your home was the wisest choice of location.”

“The hospital was full,” she said shortly. “And he needed careful monitoring.”

“Which you provided personally?” His raised eyebrow spoke volumes.

Before Emma could respond, a soft thud from above made them both look up. Michael’s expression sharpened. “Is that him now? Perhaps I should examine him myself.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Emma snapped. “He’s resting.”

“Emma.” Michael set down his cup. “You know I worry about you. Living alone, taking in strange men…”

“I’m hardly alone. Mrs Norris is here, and Mr Sotheby next door keeps watch.” She forced a light tone. “Besides, what sort of nurse would I be if I refused aid to those in need?”

“A prudent one?” Michael’s smile took the sting from his words. “At least let me meet him. For my peace of mind.”

Emma hesitated. The thought of Michael and Everett in the same room made her inexplicably uncomfortable. “He’s still quite weak.”

“All the more reason for a physician to examine him.” Michael rose, already heading for the stairs.

“Michael, wait—”

But he was already ascending, his long legs carrying him swiftly upward.

Emma followed, her heart racing for reasons she did not comprehend. Neither Michael nor Mr Hughes were her beau, yet she felt concerned.

They found Everett attempting to stand, one hand braced against the bedpost.

“Mr Hughes!” Emma rushed forward without thinking, steadying him with hands that remembered too well the feel of his fevered skin. “You shouldn’t be up yet.”

“My apologies for causing you alarm.” Everett’s voice was rough from illness, but his dark eyes were sharp as they took in Michael’s presence. “I heard voices escalating. I thought perhaps you needed assistance.”

“How gallant,” Michael said dryly. “Though considering your condition, I doubt you could assist anyone.” He stepped forward, looking austere. “Dr Michael Kincaid. I understand Miss Brown has been caring for you?”

Something flickered in Everett’s expression as he took in Michael’s extended hand. He shook it and said, “She has. Most skilfully.”

“Yes, well, Emma has always been…dedicated to her patients.”