Page 6 of Prescription for Sin

Emma

Everett sank into the bed, shame and calculation warring in his mind. The lie about his proclivities had tumbled out when she had interrogated him. A male prostitute seemed the perfect cover—it explained his presence in unsavoury places, his need to hide from authority, and why a gentleman like himself spoke so properly. Most importantly, it would keep Miss Brown from suspecting his true purpose.

He touched the precise stitches on his thigh, remembering her warm breath and steady hands despite his alarming lies. The way she’d looked at him… Guilt gnawed at his conscience. Miss Brown had shown him nothing but kindness, yet here he sat, spinning lies. He wasn’t attracted to men, had never sold his body.

The borrowed nightshirt felt rough against his skin as he shifted restlessly. His father’s directive echoed in his mind. Three patients had survived procedures that should have been fatal, each with Miss Brown supposedly assisting the surgeon. A licenced surgeon at the hospital had claimed credit, yet the work spoke of exceptional skill, a unique mind which the surgeon was decidedly not.

The reports on his London desk painted an intriguing picture—a healer, performing miracles when proper doctors had given up hope. Poor families speaking in whispers of a woman who could save those beyond saving.

His imagination painted her in candlelight, wielding a surgeon’s tools with the same grace she’d shown with her nursing kit. The thought should have horrified him—unlicenced surgery was a serious crime. Instead, he found himself admiring the courage it would take, using one’s gift despite the law’s restrictions.

The investigation had seemed straightforward from his study in London. Find the illegal surgeon, gather evidence, stop the dangerous practice. Now, lying in her guest bed, surrounded by the lingering scent of lavender and antiseptic, he questioned everything. Her touch had been too skilled, too confident to be dangerous. The way she’d assessed his wounds with a surgeon’s eye…so alarmingly blue and piercing…

Stop it, he commanded himself. She was a suspect, nothing more. Yet as sleep finally claimed him, his dreams were filled with blue eyes and skilled hands, of healing done in shadows, and of truths far more complex than the simple mandate his father had given him.

Chapter three

Incapacitated

Everett’s eyelids felt leaden as he struggled to open them against the assailing light. His physician’s mind catalogued symptoms through the fog—dry mouth, dilated pupils, mild disorientation—clear signs of a sedative. That insufferable woman had drugged him!

He sat up with measured slowness, his trained hands automatically checking his pulse. Steady, if slightly elevated. Taking extra precaution, he made his way downstairs, only to be startled by a loud rap on the door.

“Who goes there?” he called out, his voice tinged with caution.

“Lady Salisbury. And who might you be?” came the crisp reply.

A chuckle escaped his lips. “If you’re Lady Salisbury, I am the pope!”

“Open this door at once, whoever you are!”

Shaking his head in amusement, Everett swung the door open, a broad grin splitting his face. However, his expression quickly morphed into a frown as his eyes fell upon the expensively dressed, stunning woman before him.

She stood tall, rich dark hair framing her face, keen brown eyes radiating an unmistakable air of nobility. “Who are you?” she demanded, her chin tilted upward.

“Everett Hughes at your service, my lady.” He attempted a bow from the waist but winced at the pain.

Lady Salisbury’s eyes swept over him, taking in his injuries. “You’re badly hurt. You must be one of Emma’s rescues. Is she home?”

“No, my lady. She should be at the hospital.”

“I see.” Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “I’d like a word with you first.”

Without waiting for a response, she strode past him into the parlour, her skirts rustling. Two footmen and a maid followed, the men positioning themselves at the entrance while the maid took a seat beside the lady.

“How did you come to know my sister, Mr Hughes?” Her piercing gaze fixed on him.

Everett’s jaw slackened in surprise. “Your sister?”

“Yes, my sister, Miss Brown. How did you meet?”

His mind raced with possibilities. Even if Miss Brown was the unlicenced physician, with Lord Salisbury as her brother-in-law, she might be spared from punishment.

“I was set upon by thugs when Miss Brown came to my rescue. I’m convalescing here until my wounds heal.”

Lady Salisbury sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly. “I shall seek out my sister at the hospital.” Her sharp eyes pierced him once more. “Attempt anything untoward with her, and you shall face my wrath and that of my husband’s. Good day.”

With a swish of her skirts, Lady Salisbury swept out of the room, her entourage following closely. The door closed with a resounding click.