She laughed mirthlessly. “I pretended to be fragile when we went walking because my mother said that’s what boys liked. And because I could clutch your arm tightly. You thought I was actually scared ofleaves? GoodGod, Mark.” Ellen spun on her heel. “I’m done with this. I’m going to bed. Don’t expect me at breakfast tomorrow.” She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
He buried his face in his hands and collapsed in the leather chair, still warm from her body.I don’t know how to fix this.
Chapter Ten
Ellen rubbed her bleary eyes and gripped the warm cup of tea in her hands.
“And so after Dr. Harbor and I made violent, passionate love in the supply closet, I walked into the observation gallery and performed brain surgery on Florence Nightingale herself. She cried and thanked me. I'm a national heroine.”
Ellen looked up from her tea. “Sounds love–-wait, what?”
Amelia smirked. “I knew you weren't listening to a word I was saying.”
Ellen thought back to what Amelia last said. She laughed. “Dr. Harbor? He's eighty if he's a day! I thought he was going to keel over and die in the lecture three years ago about cardiovascular circulation.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “I wastryingto tell you I'm going to take Christmas day off and spend it with my family.”
Ellen stared at her friend. “You are? Since when?”
Amelia looked at her hands, busily tidying up the examining room before her first patient barged in. “There’s a nurse at St. Pancras workhouse who, um, bet me a crown I never take a day off. I must prove her wrong.”
“How did you meet this nurse?” Ellen cocked her head.Amelia never mentioned a social life. Ellen didn’t think shehadone.
“A man's appendix burst at the workhouse. I was the nearest doctor. I kept trying to tell them I wasn't a surgeon, but Jiya said she'd worked for a surgeon before and she'd help me.”
Ellen side-eyed her. “When was this? How do you have friends I don't know about?”
Amelia blushed as she sterilized her tools for a second time. “A fortnight ago. Jiya’s not a friend. We've just bumped into each other a couple of times. She has connections to different nursing schools across London and I’m thinking of asking her to tea so we can discuss future avenues of donations. If I saw her again it would be meeting professionally.”
Ellen hummed speculatively. Amelia never talked about men. Usually because all the men she interacted with were either doctors or patients. And male doctors tended to dislike female doctors. Ellen never asked what Amelia’s hopes for a family were, but she noticed Amelia only ever blushed when she mentioned pretty and outspoken nurses.
“What are your plans for Christmas?” Amelia hastily changed the subject as she donned her white doctor’s coat.
“We haven't decided yet.”
“So there's awe?” Amelia paused and looked at Ellen.
Now it was Ellen's turn to blush. She took a long drink of her tea, sniffing the earthy brew in an effort to ground herself. She’d gotten so little sleep last night.
After their argument, she'd fumed at Mark as she got ready for bed. How dare he make such high-handed assumptions about her! How dare he woo her and quote poetry to her and kiss her senseless andmarry her,do all sorts of other things that made her weak-kneed in the middle of the night, then decide she was dimwitted and run away.
How dare he be so sweet and kind and listen to her story about Constance’s name and how bad her day had been and then touch her hand and all but lay his cheek on her knee. How dare helook at her with such softness in his eyes she thought of melted chocolate. How dare he caress her face as if he cared about her now!
And those spectacles. She couldn’t believe how the sight of them made her belly swoop and spiral. They were just eyeglasses, for goodness’ sake.
Ellen had gotten into bed but tossed and turned for a good two hours. She replayed their conversation over and over, thinking of wittier things. Her belly tumbled at the image of him in his study, the warmth in his gaze when he saw it was her. And it burned when she remembered what he'd done eight years ago and why he’d done it. Sleep wouldn’t come. She got out of bed and wrapped her dressing gown around herself and went to the connecting door between their rooms. It was locked, but someone, years ago, had left the key in the lock on her side. All she'd had to do was turn the key, open the door, march over to his bed, and give him a piece of her mind.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the key. She opened the door, silently thanking Mrs. Gaye for keeping the hinges well-oiled. She tiptoed inside the dark room. She even opened her mouth, ready to start her diatribe as she approached. But there was a noise.
His legs slid along the sheets. He was tossing and turning, like her. At first, she thought he was as angry and upset as she had been.Good.Let him stew.Then she heard a low groan.
Ellen’s heart fluttered in concern, and she silently stepped closer. Was he having a nightmare?I don’t know what he went through in the Navy. Do they still fight pirates? Does that happen?
He sucked in a deep breath, unaware of his audience, giving a long shuddering sigh. “Ellen,” he whispered in reverent, low-pitched tones.
Ellen went hot, then cold, and her feet stuck to the carpet. She knew those sounds. She hadn’t heard them in years, but she knew when Mark was experiencing sexual ecstasy.Did he hear me? Does heknow I’m here?
Mark made a huffing noise as something clattered on his bedside table. Probably reaching for a cloth in the dark. “You tie me in knots,” he grumbled.