Page 2 of Grace in Glasgow (Seduced in Scotland #3)

Four Months Later…

D r. James Hall peered out the window of his home that sat one street over from the Woodside Crescent in Glasgow as a black coach carriage carrying a number of trunks came to park behind one of the fashionable houses.

Within moments, two male servants, dressed in dark blue coats, began unpacking the vehicle, as a number of maids and footmen exited through the back door of the terrace house and began helping unload all that had been carried from Lismore Hall.

James frowned, dropping his hand from the sheer window hanging as he turned around to face his mentor, Dr. Barkley, who was finishing his breakfast of poached eggs and toast, seemingly completely unaware of what a mess he had caused.

“This will be a travesty. You must know that,” James said as he moved around the dining room table, taking a seat at the head of the table to finish his coffee.

“You’re far too concerned with the rest of the world, James. You always have been,” Dr. Barkley said, taking a sip of his tea.

James glared at him and the older man lifted his brow as he swallowed.

“I’m not concerned about what others will think of me, although I will not pretend that inviting a lady to shadow me won’t cause a certain stir in my professional life, but surely you must admit that this little experiment of yours will only lead to failure. On both our parts.”

“If either of you fail, I will put the blame solely at your feet.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it will be your failure as a teacher to guide a student.” He pointed his fork at James. “You’ve had dozens of successful students when you were teaching at the university.”

“But I never had a lady student.”

“And as I’ve assured you, at least a dozen times over, Miss Sharpe is as bright a mind as any.” The old doctor placed his teacup on the small saucer before him. When he spoke next, his tone was gentle, if not a little sad. “Besides, that’s not entirely true, is it?”

“What isn’t true?”

“You’ve had a female student before.”

James’s hand paused midair, the coffee in his cup nearly spilling out, as a familiar misery crept up his spine. It wasn’t fair for him to bring her up and James was actually surprised that Dr. Barkley had even done so as they never spoke on the topic of Catriona.

The mere remembrance of her name caused him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, but he would not be deterred. He took a sip of his coffee and placed it down on the saucer.

“I did not say that I never had a female student. I said I never had a lady student. Grace Sharpe is an earl’s daughter, a lady of first society.

” He picked up his fork and pushed the last lone sausage on his plate back and forth as he spoke.

“Everyone knows that members of the ton are incapable of hard work.”

Dr. Barkley laughed.

“My, what a snob you are.”

James sneered at him.

“Am I? Tell me, who do you know that was born into such a world that has ever put off their leisurely lifestyles and chose to work instead?” When the doctor did not answer, James smirked with vindication. “You can’t think of anyone, can you?”

“The Marquis of Eneshire was rather helpful in the pursuit of artifacts during an archeological dig—”

“I don’t mean people who throw monies at their hobbies. I mean people who take up their own hands,” he said, raising his. “And work with them.”

“Do not discredit the patrons, James. It’s at their discretion that many a science and art is studied.”

“Which is criminal, in my opinion.”

“Criminal or not, my reformist friend, it is the way of it.” Dr. Barkley pointed at his friend. “And do you see now why I thought you a fitting teacher for the Sharpe woman?”

James scoffed.

“I’m no reformist.”

“Says the man who believes schools should be socially funded.”

“If there was ever a way to advance a society, it would be through education.”

“If you truly believe that, then you wouldn’t find any issue with Miss Sharpe searching for a teacher.”

James opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut when he could not think of anything else to say. It was true that he believed in education for all, not just the well to do, but he also staunchly believed in the lacking character in members of the ton.

Perhaps it was because he himself had grown up so poor, or perhaps that he understood where he would be without the support of someone more financially stable than himself, but the truth was that his distrust of the ton was more personal.

James leaned back in his chair and lifted his gaze to the plaster ceiling.

There was no use in trying to convince Dr. Barkley that he was wrong, particularly when he was so keen on the girl.

If he had any wit about him, James would refuse the old man outright, but even as tempting as an idea as that was, James knew it was an impossibility.

He owed his entire practice to Dr. Barkley, nae, his entire life to the old man, as he was the one who first took an interest in his future when James was a lad.

Sighing, James glanced down at his plate and stabbed a sausage link with his fork. Yes, he would do this favor for his mentor, but he’d be sure to let him and everyone else know just how ridiculous he felt about it.

A lady as a doctor… It was preposterous.

“Very well,” he said, annoying even himself at how mulish he sounded. He cleared his throat. “But do not be surprised when this goes up in flames.”

Dr. Barkley shook his head.

“How can it? Miss Sharpe is of sound mind, better at handling a scalpel than even you, I might say. As long as you teach her everything you know, I daresay she may be one of the leading physicians in Scotland one day.”

James laughed incredulously and stood up once more. He pushed back the curtains again and peered out his window, spying as the last of the boxes and cartons were carried off inside.

“I wonder by what divine intervention you’ve managed to see to it that my house should sit directly behind Lady Belle’s.”

“Divine intervention? Nonsense,” Dr. Barkley said as he himself stood. “I told you five years ago when you bought this place that it was very near Lady Belle’s home.”

James made a “humph” noise as if to say he didn’t believe him, but then there seemed to be some movement in a second story window.

It seemed whatever room Miss Sharpe was in would be directly across the way from his own bedchamber.

Squinting, James saw a mop of dark curls, tied up above a peach-colored gown, darting from one window to the next and back again, as if she were hopping about the room.

There was no doubt in his mind who this woman was, and as much as he scowled, he felt a flicker of excitement pulsate through his body.

That, of course, meant nothing. As a man of science, James had long since learned that matters of attraction were animalistic in nature.

He could sooner stop his stomach from rumbling when it was hungry or wet his mouth when he was parched.

These were basic needs and aroused feelings weren’t any different.

In fact, he’d rather be aware of it now than be surprised at some other point in their time together.

But it was still interesting. He found the resolute woman attractive.

It was her determination that had caught his attention in the first place.

Not her hair color, nor her shapely, healthy form, but her clear voice and the perfect enunciation of words like latissimus dorsi , as he had heard her say nearly two years ago when they had first met when Graham MacKinnon had been shot.

Yet ever since their discussion at Lismore Hall several months prior, he had found himself thinking about her from time to time.

When he had dashed her dreams, the lady did not cry or beg or make a scene.

She merely stated that since she wasn’t his student, she didn’t have any reason to listen to him.

He had found it amusing, if a little rude, and had gone off to find her to tell her so, but then he hadn’t been able to find her again that night.

“It looks as though they’ve arrived early,” Dr. Barkley said, pointing up at the window.

“Were they not supposed to arrive the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, but you know Lady Belle. Her desires change with the wind,” he said fondly. “I suppose she’s eager to set her charges up in society.”

James glanced at his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Miss Arabella Scott has been placed in Lady Belle’s charge for the season and she and Miss Sharpe will be participating in town life. It was the only way Lady Belle would condone her niece living in the city.”

James stepped back from the window, appalled.

“And when is she supposed to fit in a social life? As my student, I expect her full and utmost attention. I will not have her slacking because she is too tired to attend me due to some hangover from an opera the previous night or carousing at some ball until all hours of the morning.”

Dr. Barkley’s brow lifted.

“And here I thought you weren’t excited about having a student.”

“Excited? No. But if I’m to have one, then I will have her undivided attention.”

“Well then, you might discuss that with Lady Belle the night after tomorrow. You’ve been invited to dine with them.”

James nodded, turning away from the window once more. He had received an invitation from Lismore Hall about a dinner at the end of this week.

“Oh, but what’s this?” Dr. Barkley said, peering out the window himself. “It appears one of the lady’s footmen is on his way here.”

Both men made their way away from the window. Within minutes, James’s housekeeper, Mrs. Cramer, entered the dining room followed by a youthful footman with black hair and serious eyes.

“Dr. Hall? A message from Lady Belle Smyth.”

James reached for the letter.

“Thank you.”

The footman bowed and hurriedly left, followed by the housemaid. Tearing the edges of the envelope with his fingers, James unfolded the missive.

“Well, it seems our presence is required earlier than the day after tomorrow,” he read, gazing up. “Lady Belle is feeling somewhat jolty since her arrival to Glasgow.”

“Jolty?”

“It’s what she’s written.”

He handed the note to Dr. Barkley, who let out a laugh, nearly startling James.

“That woman will do anything to have her way,” he murmured before handing the note back to James. “Unfortunately, I’ve not the time to attend her here. I’ve already been gone too long from Glencoe, and I must leave before noon if I’m going to make it there before nightfall.”

James tilted his head.

“You wish me to see her alone?”

“You are her other physician.”

“This is not a home visit about her health and you know it. She wishes to lay out her plans and bully me into agreeing with her.”

“I daresay the lady has her work cut out for her then. Dr. James Hall is rarely bullied into anything.”

“Except by you, or my aunt.” He lifted the note. “Or Lady Belle.”

“Come now, my boy, what is it Mrs. Fletcher is always saying? Trust your travels?”

“Trust the journey,” James corrected him, knowing the elder man knew exactly what Aunt Flora’s mantra was.

She had been repeating the same words to James since he was eight, when he had been sent to live with her after his parents’ deaths, both of whom had passed away due to consumption.

James had been visiting his cousins south in Dumfries when they received word about their deaths and he was immediately put in a mailing carriage and sent to Glencoe to live with Aunt Flora Fletcher.

Trust the journey had been her way of trying to teach him to combat his anxieties about the uncertainty of life and death, a topic that he had obsessed about in his youth and likely influenced his desire to become a physician.

“I doubt my aunt’s folk medicine will help me with this.”

Dr. Barkley wagged his finger, as if tsking a school boy.

“Do not disparage your aunt’s belief in the old ways. She has proved time and time again that her little spells work. Remember, the best physician is also a philosopher.”

James rolled his eyes. He hated when Dr. Barkley quoted Galen to him, particularly when it made perfect sense. Still, he argued.

“Just because she couples a few words with medicinal herbs and good feelings does not make her a philosopher.” He shook his head. “It’s the power of persuasion, not magic.”

James had been dealing with his aunt’s eccentric beliefs and reputation for over twenty-four years.

It had been difficult growing up in Glencoe as her nephew, especially when he first arrived.

Some children had taken it upon themselves to tease him and throw rocks at him, led by a local farmer’s son named Angus.

Of course, when Angus broke his leg, the whole town blamed it on the Witch of Glencoe.

Life had gotten easier after that, as the other children had suddenly become afraid to tease him, but there had always been a distinct look in the people of Glencoe’s eyes when they saw James coming.

It wasn’t until he was a proper physician did they start treating him with respect as opposed to fear and even still, there were whispers about his healing abilities being linked to his aunt.

He had been trying to outrun their skepticism for years.

“Placebos are effective. And if it helps the locals of Glencoe to believe that she’s some sort of witch, well, why not? It keeps her relatively safe from anyone who would cause her harm. Half of them are terrified of her and the other half go to her for remedies when they think I’ve failed them.”

“I don’t know if trusting the journey will help me in this situation.”

“I promise, it will not be nearly as bad as you believe it.”

James would have loved to believe Dr. Barkley, but if there was anything he was sure of, it was that things rarely ever turned out for the better for him.

Every time he had the idea of searching for the bright side of things, or being an optimist, he was always met with the cold hard facts of reality.

His mentor and even his aunt had recently begun to be vocal about their worry for him always being so gloomy, but it wasn’t that he was a pessimist. He was a realist. And if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Miss Grace Sharpe was going to upend his life.