Page 1 of Grace in Glasgow (Seduced in Scotland #3)

“T here he is,” Grace Sharpe said, standing on her tippytoes to gaze across the ballroom at her Aunt Belle’s seventy-sixth birthday party. The man she had been searching for all evening was speaking to her brother-in-law, Graham McKinnon. “Excuse me, Faith. I’d like to thank him in person.”

“Wait,” her sister said, a note of hesitation in her eyes. But then, she shook her head. “Good luck, Grace.”

Grace grinned, acutely aware of the trepidation in her sister’s voice, but Faith needn’t worry.

All Grace wished to do was thank Dr. James Hall for taking her on as a student.

She had been trying for months to gain acceptance into any university that would permit a woman to study medicine, but alas, every one of her letters had been rejected and she had to submit to studying under Dr. Barkley.

He was a fine mentor, but as Grace had hopes of working in the bustling city of Glasgow as opposed to Glencoe, she needed a teacher who lived in the city.

As a former student of Dr. Barkley himself, Dr. Hall had agreed to allow Grace to shadow him over the next six months, or so her aunt had said, and she wished to thank him personally.

Skirting around the crowded ballroom, Grace was careful not to make eye contact with anyone, particularly gentlemen, as to avoid being asked to dance.

Although she had helped facilitate this birthday celebration for her aunt, she had no intentions of participating in the festivities.

Not when her future was hanging in the balance.

Lifting her chin to peer over guests’ shoulders, she silently cursed her short stature as she saw the familiar outline of Dr. Hall who was now talking with a group of men near the back terrace of the ballroom.

Unlike the other men in attendance, Dr. Hall wore slacks as opposed to a kilt, a mark no doubt of his modern professionalism.

Grace was bolstered by his dress, believing that if a man didn’t possess an affinity for tradition, he would undoubtedly champion her in her prospects.

“Dr. Hall?” she spoke, causing the man to turn.

Grace had braced herself when the doctor turned, his gray-blue eyes landing on her with curiosity.

They had met, briefly, several times over the past year, ever since Grace and her sisters had been removed from London after their grandmother Alice’s death and resettled with their aunt in the Highlands.

Ever since the first time their eyes met, Grace had to remind herself to exhale.

He was attractive, more so than most, but what was curious about it was that it affected her.

She was never distracted by good looks or charming words.

In fact, Grace had been around much handsomer men before, men who outranked Dr. Hall, but there was something about his straight nose, near black brows, and the perplexing scent of lime that hovered about him wherever he went that made Grace aware of his imposing presence.

“Miss Sharpe,” he said with a charming smile. “A pleasure to see you.”

Grace ignored the silly giddiness she felt in her stomach.

He was taller than most, though not as broad as her brothers-in-law, but far more pleasing to look at, at least to her.

With dark brown hair that was clipped close to his head, as well as a short beard which had become fashionable in the last year or so, he appeared every bit professional.

“And you. I was wondering if I might have a word with you? I’m not sure if you were able to speak with Dr. Barkley yet, but—”

“Ah, yes,” he interrupted, shooting a speculative glance at the company around him as his charming smile faded. “Let’s discuss that over here.”

His hand came up to her elbow and the barest of pressure landed against the back of her upper arm.

The warmth from his touch caused her pulse to flutter, but she was quick to ignore it.

As a student of the body, physical reactions were commonplace and as expected as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.

Dr. Hall escorted her out of the ballroom, across the semi-filled stone floored hallway. As large as Lismore Hall was, it was still rather small for all the guests that had come to the celebration. Still, Grace was aware of the separation she and the doctor had from the other guests.

Stopping just behind the grand stone staircase, Dr. Hall’s hand fell away from her arm and he exhaled.

“I must tell you, Dr. Hall, that I admire your bravery,” she said, continuing her previous train of thought.

The doctor’s dark brows cinched together.

“Bravery?”

“Yes. When I first started shadowing Dr. Barkley on his rounds, he tried very hard to, well, dissuade me, for lack of a better term. He was firm in his belief that women didn’t possess the stomachs nor the devotion that the study of medicine requires.

But I was steadfast in my determination and I proved to him that such ideas were antiquated and while it will take years, if not decades to change the hearts and minds of our fellow countrymen about a woman’s right to study medicine, I just wanted to say that I feel very privileged to have your support.

” She exhaled soundly. “I’m so very grateful that you’re allowing me to work under your practice in Glasgow. ”

It was truly a dream come true for Grace to be allowed to shadow a doctor as prominent and well respected as Dr. Hall.

While Dr. Barkley was the primary physician in Glencoe and the neighboring villages in this part of the Highlands, Dr. Hall was a police surgeon in a metropolitan area.

The advances in science and medicine that he was able to see and experience would further her education in ways she could not yet imagine and it was her greatest desire to help people.

But the expression on the man’s face seemed conflicted. Grace tilted her head, sure that she had surprised the good doctor with her extensive speech.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she added quickly, shaking her head. “It’s just that, I’m terribly excited to continue my work and while I will forever be indebted to Dr. Barkley, I believe my strengths in medicine would be best utilized in a surgical atmosphere.”

“Miss Sharpe—”

“And I know,” she interrupted, lifting a hand as if to apologize. “It will take years to learn and prove myself, but I am determined.”

“Miss Sharpe, I regret to inform you that I disagreed with Dr. Barkley’s idea of having you shadow me in Glasgow.”

For a moment, the smile on Grace’s face was frozen. Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. She blinked.

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

A shadow of pity passed over Dr. Hall’s face and the laryngeal prominence of his thyroid cartilage moved up and down as he swallowed. Or rather, his Adam’s apple.

“Dr. Barkley and I have spoken extensively, and I unfortunately will not be able to oversee your studies in Glasgow. What with my work for the police there, as well as my own practice, I don’t have the time for a student to follow me.

” He paused. “Nor would I, in good conscience, allow a lady to shadow me. Not in that city.”

Grace blinked again, his words barely registering as her hopes and dreams were once again dashed, like glass shattering on the floor.

How many rejection letters did she have upstairs in her room?

Dozens, if not more, all from colleges and universities that had refused her entry into their schools, all because she was a woman.

How many times must she suffer because of her sex?

“I see,” she said softly, her eyes unfocused.

“I am sorry that I did not have happier news, but you must know, it would be near impossible.”

She nodded and when she didn’t speak, he turned to leave, his arm very nearly brushing against her shoulder.

The dismissal was enough to sting, but something within Grace’s chest seemed to snap and she turned on her heel.

“Twenty-one schools have rejected me, Dr. Hall. Twenty-one. Every single medical school in the country.”

The tall man turned back, his blue eyes piteous beneath his black brows.

“There are only twenty schools that teach medicine.”

“Oh yes,” she said with an exasperated bob of her head. “I applied to one in Italy as well.”

He frowned.

“I am sorry for that, Miss Sharpe, but—”

“All of who accepted me when I reapplied under the name of Andrew Sharpe.” She paused, hoping to let that information sink in.

“I am not arrogant, Dr. Hall, nor boastful, but I am capable. I have a mind for medicine, my experience and abilities are demonstrative of that and if I had just…” She swallowed, fighting off the building emotion.

She needed to quell it, control it, lest he use it against her for being dramatic or hysterical.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly before continuing.

“If I had just an opportunity to show you my abilities, I promise, you would not be disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Sharpe,” he said firmly. “But my answer is still no.”

No . It was the vilest word in the entire English language and yet one that seemed most attracted to her. No, she couldn’t study to be a doctor. No, she wasn’t clever enough for medicine. No, she wasn’t fit for doing the thing she loved most in the world.

She was forever having to prove those no’s wrong.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the doctor approach.

“It was not my intent to make you cry, Miss Sharpe.”

“Cry?” She laughed, worried for a moment that she was, but thankfully the water in her eyes was dispelled by several blinks.

“Sir, there is nothing in this world that you could do or say that would make me cry.” She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders before staring him straight in the eye.

“It is no matter. I’m used to rejection. ”

To his credit, Dr. Hall appeared fully focused on her in that moment, as if he were debating something internally. He opened his mouth to speak, but Grace held her hand up once more to silence him.

“Please, Dr. Hall, whatever it is you’re going to say, I pray you keep it to yourself.”

“I was just going to say—”

“I am not your student and there is nothing outside of medicine that you could say that would interest me.” She gave him a tight smile as if trying to convey that she was not bothered in the slightest. “Excuse me.”

Grace was quick to move away from him, grateful that the hallway had become crowded.

“Miss Sharpe, wait,” he called after her, but she did not stop.

She would not waste a single moment more in his presence and what’s more, she needed privacy.

Stepping quickly over the flagstone floors, she was down the hall and in her aunt’s private study, locking the door behind her should she be followed.

The quiet of the room was in stark contrast to the rest of the house that was buzzing with activity.

And just as she convinced herself that she was just going to have to pursue her studies from yet another angle, a wayward tear fell down her cheek.

She immediately wiped it away, angry at herself for giving in to her hurt feelings.

She was used to rejection, used to everyone telling her no or that she wasn’t capable. Well, everyone outside of her family. Her sisters had always fanned the flames of her passion, but there was no use for it apparently, because she could not pursue her dreams. Ever.

Another tear fell and then another. Frantically and furiously, she kept wiping them away, but then they wouldn’t stop coming.

A sob escaped her mouth, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed the full weight of her misery and disappointment to wash over her. She was forever meeting with obstacles too high and yet she continued to pursue her dreams.

What was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she learn?

Just then, the door to the study shook, causing her to jump away from it.

“Miss Sharpe?” The muffled voice of Dr. Hall called from the other side of the oak door. “Miss Sharpe, are you in there?”

She shook her head, knowing fully well that he couldn’t see her, but still having a need to answer. After another shake or two, the door handle stilled and Grace could hear footsteps fade away into the music on the other side.

Thank goodness she had locked the door, she mused as she bit her bottom lip. For whatever Dr. Hall thought to say to her, she would have been all the worse off if he found her crying.

He truly was an unfeeling man, just as his aunt had described him.

Mrs. Fletcher, better known as the Witch of Glencoe, had been a close friend of Grace’s ever since she had arrived in Scotland.

When she had confided in the older woman that she wished to study medicine, it was Mrs. Fletcher who had first suggested her nephew.

When Grace hesitated, as he was an attractive sort close to her own age, the old woman had reassured her that there was nothing to fear from Dr. Hall, as he was incapable of possessing amorous feelings.

He was an incompatible soul, which was just fine with Grace, as she always considered herself incompatible too, and she had become confident in the idea of studying under him.

But not anymore.

Grace exhaled slowly through her nose, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She could not let yet another setback ruin her evening. This was a celebration for Aunt Belle, her seventy-sixth birthday after all, which, according to Grace’s eldest sister Hope, was a very important milestone.

Moving around the room, she sought out the small cart that Aunt Belle kept next to her desk. Reaching for a crystal decanter filled with water, she poured herself a glass and dipped her fingertips in, moving the liquid around her face before moving toward the fireplace.

In a few moments, once her face was dry and not so red, she would return to the ballroom and avoid both Dr. Hall and Dr. Barkley, lest her true feelings be exposed as they were far too close to the surface.

Instead, she would stand next to her aunt and offer what support she could for the rest of the evening and tomorrow… Well, tomorrow she would come up with a new plan. Somehow, some way, she would figure out how to see her dreams come true.

Even if it was the last thing she ever did.