Page 112 of Ghost of the Ton

Mia picked up her knife and held the blade in the candle flame for a heartbeat. She paused to let it cool, then held it against Maisie’s arm.

“Good—very good,” the doctor said. “Now, just a small incision.”

Mia drew the knife across Maisie’s skin. A droplet of red began to swell, but Maisie nodded to continue.

Mia set the knife aside and picked up her needle, again, holding it into the flame. She held it against Ginny’s arm and raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

“Go on, miss,” the girl said. “It won’t hurt. Ye’re the fourth doctor to see me today.”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“Not yet,” Dr. Nimmo said with a smile. “Go on. A small droplet is all you need.”

Holding her breath, Mia slid the tip of the needle into the blister, waited for a small bead of yellow liquid to form, then drew it out again. Slowly, she moved the needle toward Maisie’s wound, then placed the tip in the center.

“Excellent,” the doctor said. “Have you a bandage?”

Mia drew a strip of cloth from her valise and wound it around Maisie’s arm.

“Not too tight,” Dr. Nimmo said. “It’s just to stop any bleeding. You should be able to remove it in an hour or so. Brave lass, Miss MacLennan,” he added, nodding to Maisie. “And thank you, Ginny.” He fished a coin out of his pocket. “A shilling for your trouble, child.”

“Let me see to that,” Mia said, fishing out a coin from her valise and handing it to the young girl, whose eyes widened.

“Half a crown? Thank ye, miss.”

“It’s you whom I should be thanking,” Mia said. “For attending today and for subjecting yourself to the hands of a woman.”

“Och, ye were gentler than…” The girl blushed as she glanced at Dr. Nimmo. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir.”

“You’re quite right, Ginny,” the doctor said, mirth in his voice. “I fear that even my brightest student is not so deft as this young woman here. Well, my dear,” he added, rising and extending his hand to Mia, “if you are adamant about leaving as soon as possible, I’ll not keep you. I trust we shall meet again when I might have the privilege of addressing you as Dr. Lucas.”

Mia took his hand, then the clerk escorted her and Maisie out to where the carriage was waiting.

Brodie’s face appeared at the window. “Is it done, ma’am?”

Mia nodded as she helped Maisie into the carriage, then they set off.

“Did it hurt?” Brodie asked.

“Not at all,” Maisie said. “A slight sting when Mia made the… What was it called?”

“Incision,” Mia replied.

“And how do ye feel?” Brodie asked.

“I’m well. At least, for now.”

“You may have a slight fever later tonight,” Mia said, “or tomorrow. Let me know the moment you see blisters forming on your arm like Ginny’s.”

Maisie nodded, then relaxed into her seat. Mia turned her attention to the view from the window, the gray stone buildings of the city set against the darkening sky. When they thinned out to open countryside, she leaned back and closed her eyes. But sleep eluded her as the memory of her last encounter with Hamish pushed to the forefront of her mind—the sensations that had torn through her body as he’d claimed her like a beast, followed by the cold, harsh reality of ruination at the hands of a man who could never love her.

At all costs, she must keep their encounter a secret—not only to the rest of the world, but to herself. Were she to recognize the delicious wickedness that she’d savored as her body had opened itself to pure pleasure…

No!

“Mia?”

She glanced up to see Maisie staring at her.