The Surgeon's Lady by Carla Kelly Page B

think…does your nephew get used to what he does?”
    Aunt Walters shrugged. “How could he? Good night, Lady Taunton.”
    She went to sleep at once, and would have slept all night, if she hadn’t been wakened by the sound of someone sobbing. Maybe they will stop, she thought, as she tried to burrow under her pillow and block out the sound.
    It continued louder than before, irritating her, until she realized she was the one crying. Unnerved, she wiped her eyes on the sheet, just as the door opened.
    “I’m all right, Mrs. Walters,” she said. “It’s nothing.”
    Lt. Brittle sat on the edge of her bed and handed her his handkerchief. She blew her nose, sobbed again, blew her nose again, then made not the slightest attempt to keep herself from leaning against his leg.
    He must not have minded, because he put a gentle hand on her head. He tried to prop himself against the headboard, moving a little more onto the bed until she sat up, and without a word, pulled back the coverlets.
    He was still fully dressed, but he unbuckled his shoes, took them off, then lay down next to her, gathering her close to his side as she threw her arm across his chest and cried. He held her close, saying nothing and doing nothing more than running his hand over her arm until she stopped crying and sat up again. He stayed where he was, practically asleep himself.
    “Have you been in Block Four all this time?” she whispered.
    He pulled her down and she found that same nice spot against his shoulder.
    “Blocks Three through Six. We’re stretched thin, Lady T. I came home two hours ago, changed clothes and wentto Captain Brackett’s quarters, where I pronounced his wife dead. He needed to talk then, as you might surmise. There are days I wish I had never left Jamaica.”
    She wasn’t even sure of that last sentence, because his voice trailed off and he slept. She sat up, careful not to disturb him, and watched his face relax and his hands open up. Carefully, she settled him on his back, then loosened his neckcloth, sliding it slowly from his neck. As he breathed evenly and deeply, she unbuttoned his shirt, then removed his cufflinks, reaching over him to set them on the nightstand. Her breasts grazed his chest as she did that, but he did not even stir.
    She hesitated a moment, then decided in for a penny, in for a pound, and unbuttoned his trousers. You’d be an easy man to seduce, she thought, smiling at the idea. She knew she should retreat to the downstairs sofa, but she didn’t. I’ll cry again if I do, she reasoned, as she tucked her nightgown tidily around her ankles, lay down, hesitated for only a second, then backed up against the surgeon, who responded by turning sideways, draping his arm over her and breathing steadily into her ear. She never slept better.
     
    Laura dreamed of nothing for the remainder of the night, and woke just before dawn to the sound of seagulls this time, quarreling down by the jetty. She shivered involuntarily, trying not to think what it might be they found so attractive, then suddenly remembered she was sharing her bed with Lt. Philemon Brittle.
    She turned slowly, and stared into his blue eyes. They were even sharing the same pillow. As her face grew red,his did the same. She knew the only way they could have been closer was if they were making love. As she watched his face, she felt almost as though they were.
    She was relieved he didn’t leap up with a horrified expression, and stammer something stupid. He stayed where he was, observing her in a way that softened her heart, peeling away layers of calculus that had formed there since her discovery, at age eighteen, that she had not one advocate in the entire world.
    He spoke finally. She knew one of them had to say something.
    “I should have left last night before paralysis overtook every limb.”
    It was a guileless apology, explaining exactly how he felt. It would have been almost clinical, if he hadn’t pulled her hair back from her