Christmas for Ransome by Katherine Bone

Author:Katherine Bone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Katherine Bone

Daniel rose from the overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace. He’d fallen asleep after entering William’s sickroom and finding Ivy asleep by the side of the bed, fatigued and rightly so. Still feeling like a cad for his behavior in the library, he held her in the highest esteem, deciding not to awaken her. She’d been so angelic and delicate slumbering there, her dark eyelashes fringing her tear-swollen cheeks.

When he finally reached out to touch her, he was brought up short by William Martin, who said, “Please. Do not wake her. She’s been . . . through so much.”

“Very well,” he’d agreed. “But I insist on making her comfortable.”

“She is sturdy, Doctor.” William gasped, sucking in air. “A blanket will do.”

He knew where to find one, having used a spare covering the night prior during his lengthy vigil. Glancing around the spacious room, he spied the fabric draped over one of two overstuffed, wide-backed chairs near the hearth and went to retrieve it.

Returning to the bed, he draped the blanket over Ivy’s shoulders. “To brace off the chill.”

“For propriety’s sake,” William pleaded, “do not leave her here alone.”

“I wouldn’t hear of it.” He did not doubt there were extreme cases where men abused women left alone, but this was Claverfield—Ivy’s home. It was also a place where former prisoners of war lived provisionally, any of whom could suffer bouts of extreme violence or deprivation at any given time. Noting William’s wisdom, he added, “I will sit by the fire.”

“You are a good man.” Contented, William closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep.

The man’s declaration jarred Daniel, however. He’d tried to do good in his lifetime but— He shrugged and listened to his patient’s even, steady breaths before striding to the fireplace to collapse exhausted on a chair there. Sinking into the cushions, he hoisted his feet onto an ottoman and closed his eyes, unable to purge Ivy’s sorrowful face from his mind.

Daniel hated to see her suffer. She faced a vague and shadowy future without her father. He knew from experience. Though Martin’s health was grave, the power of medicine and prayer worked wonders.

He must have drifted off to sleep because an ethereal voice lured him out of a pleasant dream where he shared a home with a wife and several children. It was the same fantasy that normally visited him. Except this time, his spouse had a face.

He’d secretly listened, not wanting to frighten Ivy in such an intimate moment. Her tone was laced with sorrow as she implored her father not to leave her. Surgery was a dutiful, albeit isolated, profession, requiring speed and precision, and skillful cauterizing of wounds to keep patients alive.

People grieved. He knew this. He’d seen it, faced it, learning to respect the process. Nevertheless, listening to Ivy confess her innermost thoughts in the darkness seemed dishonest. Cruel. Disturbing. And yet, he’d eavesdropped just the same.

A gentleman would make his presence known. A nobleman should. But he was neither of those things. He could not bring himself to interrupt her.

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