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“Yes, but I must maintain peace in my city.” Rafe ground out his cigar and stood. “I’ll deal with Clayton when the matter with Lady Rosslyn is resolved. That way I can better attend to the upheaval that will result from sacking him. I had better see to Lady Rosslyn’s caller. You may go hunt now.”

Anthony smiled and gave him an exaggerated formal bow. “Very good, my lord.”

As Rafe made his way down the stairs, he worked to conceal his irritation. When the Duke and Duchess of Burnrath departed for their honeymoon trip, he’d anticipated a few decades of peace and quiet with limited interaction with mortals. That peace had been destroyed since Lady Rosslyn came under his roof. And it seemed her captivity would cause further disruption. How many callers would he have to deter?

He wasn’t surprised to find Thomas Wakley waiting in the drawing room. The surgeon had been captivated with Cassandra at that blasted dinner party. Any fool could have observed that.

“Mr. Wakley, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Envy roiled in his gut at the sight of the man’s handsome, unblemished face and strong arms.

The surgeon bowed. “I hope to speak with Lady Rosslyn.”

“She is occupied at the moment. What is the nature of your interest in her?” The question ended more harshly than he intended.

Wakley chuckled. “I am not here to court her, if that is your concern. I am very happily married.”

The tightness in Rafe’s chest eased. “I am pleased to hear that. Would you join me for a cigar?”

“I do not smoke.” The surgeon withdrew a parcel from his greatcoat. “The first reason for my visit is that I managed to outbid the odious Lord Densmore for the Van Leeuwenhoek microscope Lady Rosslyn coveted and thought she might like to purchase it from me.”

“I’ll buy it for her.” Rafe reached in his pocket for his banknotes. “How much?”

Wakley grinned as they made the exchange. “That was simple enough.”

“And your other purpose?” This time Rafe made his impatience clear.

The surgeon flushed. “Well, I, ah, could not help but be impressed with her ladyship’s medical knowledge and I can hardly quell my outrage at the injustice of such a brilliant mind being barred from serving the community.”

“Yes, it is an injustice indeed. A fact I am certain she is well aware of. Have you a point in reminding her?” Rafe drummed the fingers of his good hand on the side table.

Ignoring his warning tone, Wakley nodded. “Though it is not in my power to make her a real doctor, I can give her the same examination that is received at Oxford and perhaps offer her some training, so that she may at least gain some sense of vindication.”

Rafe opened his mouth to refuse, yet the words caught in his throat at the man’s logic and consideration. However, he couldn’t risk further involvement with mortals, for him or Cassandra. Not until her fate was decided. And he still had no notion how he would resolve his predicament. Hell, he hadn’t even told her about the letter from the Elders yet.

He coughed. “I—”

“Oh, Mr. Wakley!” Cassandra gasped in unabashed delight as she rushed down the stairs. “Would you?”

The surgeon nodded. “As long as you understand that it is only a ceremonial gesture.”

“I understand.” Cassandra’s voice quavered with hope and gratitude.

Rafe hid the wrapped parcel by holding the microscope behind his back before she met his gaze.

Slowly, she approached him, her eyes deep pools of abject longing. “Rafael…?” The question hung in the air, tangible as an embrace.

He closed his eyes as his mind warred with his heart. She stood so close that her hair brushed his sleeve and he could smell her intoxicating scent.

Taking a deep breath, he uttered an impractical reply. “I am certain you shall pass with alacrity.”

She could be dead within the month. The least he could do was allow her to touch her dream.

Cassandra rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips felt like a healing balm on his scars.

“Thank you.” Her breath caressed his ear before she turned to Wakley. “Would you like to see my laboratory?”

“I would be honored.” The surgeon ran a hand through his golden hair and smiled.

As Cassandra led Wakley up the stairs, Rafe hid her gift in his waistcoat pocket before he followed.