I remembered the look of wonder on John Maxwell’s face as he held his infant daughter for the first time. The words on the page blurred, and tears gathered in my throat. Pressing my fingers against my eyelids, I managed to control myself. Isobel Maxwell had died nearly five hundred years ago, and there were other, much more important issues at hand. I still had no idea how the curse had affected Jeanne or if she even realized that she had a connection to Mairi of Shiels. Another thought occurred to me. Was it possible that Jeanne’s small daughter, by her death, had lifted the curse from her mother?
Quickly my finger slid down the page, searching for Jeanne Maxwell’s name. Nothing. There were no other entries at all until fifty years later. What could have happened to Jeanne’s family?
There was only one way to find out. I swallowed, and in spite of the cold, perspiration gathered in the hollow of my throat. Slowly I closed the book and climbed the ladder to replace it carefully on the shelf. Hugging myself against the chill, I walked back to my room and sat down on the bed. The ticking of the clock disturbed me. Without thinking, I reached over to pick it up and noticed the time. Disappointment washed over me. It was nearly four. If I left immediately, I would just make my doctor’s appointment. The mystery of Jeanne and her family would have to wait.
Conscious of the time, I hurriedly changed into a sweater and skirt, pulled a blazer from the armoire, and started down the stairs.
The doctor’s office was just off the main street, near the post office. I pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car. As I turned the key in the lock, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A familiar voice spoke. “It appears that wishes sometimes come true,” Ian murmured into my ear. “I was just thinking of you.”
I laughed nervously, wondering how I could escape and slip into the office unobserved.
“What are you doing here?” Ian asked. “I thought you would be up to your ears in a family reunion, or are your parents tired of you already?”
“They are tired but not of me. I decided to let them rest while I came into town.” The post office loomed before me. “For stamps,” I announced, pleased with my sudden inspiration. “I need stamps.”
Ian looked at me thoughtfully. “That shouldn’t take long. Will you join me for tea after I’ve made my purchases?”
“Of course.” I hoped my relief didn’t show. “When will you be finished?”
“A half hour should do it. Shall we meet here, at your car?”
I nodded and watched to make sure he crossed the street and disappeared into the hardware store.
Hurrying to my appointment, I opened the door into a cozy sitting room, complete with fireplace, large bay windows, and a rolltop desk. Seated behind the desk was a cheerful-looking woman with gray hair and round cheeks. She peered at me over the rims of her glasses.
“Miss Murray?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Come right in. The doctor is expecting you.”
Apparently, I was the only patient. The apple-cheeked woman ushered me into an immaculate examining room and handed me a cotton gown. “Remove your clothing, dear. The doctor will be in shortly.”
I shed my skirt and sweater as quickly as possible and perched on top of the table, holding the back of the gown closed. Sooner than I’d expected, the door opened and a man walked in.
My mouth dropped open, and I felt the hot, humiliating flood of color start at my chest and move up. I recognized him immediately. He was the doctor from Traquair House, the same one who gave me insulin the day of Ellen Maxwell’s funeral. Inching forward until my feet touched the floor, I slid off the table and stood before him.
“I must have dialed the wrong number,” I stammered. “I wanted a gynecologist.” He looked very young in spite of his gray hair.
“I am a gynecologist. I’m also every other type of physician you can think of. That’s what general practitioners are, Miss Murray, jacks-of-all-trades. This is a clinic, and it happens to be the only one in Peebles.”
I backed up to the chair where I’d draped my clothes. My face flamed with embarrassment. “I think I should make an appointment in Edinburgh.”