Raven (Gentlemen of the Order #2) - Adele Clee Page 0,17
into the seat at the head of the table and reached for the coffeepot.
“Good morning, Mr Cole,” she said, nerves forcing her to speak.
“Good morning.”
The doctor continued to stare.
“Dr Goodwin, allow me to introduce Mr Cole, a dear family friend.”
“And the best enquiry agent in London.” Finlay’s tone was as sharp as the bread knife. “I’m here to conduct an investigation.”
“An investigation?” Dr Goodwin coughed into his fist. “An investigation into what exactly? Not those women who practise witchcraft in the woods?”
“No, not the harmless creatures who dance beneath the moon and claim they’re free spirits.” Finlay observed the doctor keenly while sipping his coffee. “I’m here to find the man who is poisoning Jessica’s mind. The man who lures her into the woods at night. The man with devious intentions.”
“P-poisoning her mind?” Dr Goodwin shuffled uncomfortably in the chair. Perhaps he found Finlay’s manner threatening, which was why he said, “If you’re suggesting there is something unconventional about the way I treat my patient, then simply say so.”
“I will, once I have witnessed your work and made a study of your methods.” Finlay reached for the wooden board and cut a slice of bread. “Be aware. I am not a man who minces words. If I encounter a problem, Dr Goodwin, you shall be the first to hear my objection.”
Dr Goodwin’s forehead furrowed. “I’m afraid you cannot attend the session. The patient must have the confidence to speak privately. But you’re welcome to read my notes.”
Finlay’s frigid smile chilled the air like an arctic wind. “I will attend your session today, or you will leave this house and never return.”
In a move that proved shocking, a move that sent Sophia’s pulse racing and left her knees weak, Finlay Cole reached across the table and captured her hand. The sensation was akin to being wrapped in thick furs on a cold winter’s night. Comforting. Soothing. Tears pricked her eyes. Tears of joy: it felt wonderful to feel close to him. Tears of sadness: the action served to prove his point, not convey affection.
Dr Goodwin’s lips thinned as he stared at their clasped hands.
It couldn’t be jealousy she saw flitting across his features. Yes, they were on familiar terms. Yes, she might even regard Dr Goodwin as a friend, but he had given no indication he expected more. And while his sculpted jaw and confident countenance marked him as a man of some charisma, she preferred the brooding gentleman with the devilish charm.
“Let me be clear,” Finlay continued, gripping her hand so tightly heat pooled between her thighs. “Lady Adair and I agree on this matter.” He paused. “As a professional man, it must be frustrating to know Jessica has made no improvement. Considering the fact her condition worsens by the day, should you not welcome another opinion?”
Dr Goodwin took to cutting his ham vigorously again. “Man has not, or never will, fully master the workings of the human mind. And with all due respect, you’re hardly qualified to give advice.”
“What a foolish assumption,” Finlay countered.
If rapid blinking was a sign of unease, then Dr Goodwin seemed most perturbed.
“I have a wealth of experience when it comes to dealing with fragile minds,” Finlay said, no doubt referring to the criminals he’d encountered while working as an agent of the Order. He released her hand, leaving her somewhat bereft. “Your instant dismissal speaks of intolerance. Such a biased view must hinder your progress.”
With a mild huff of frustration, the doctor laid down his cutlery. “Forgive me if I speak out of turn. I sense hostility though am at a loss to know why.”
Sophia forced a light laugh. “Mr Cole is used to questioning criminals which accounts for his blunt tone.”
She had to say something to ease the tension.
“Do not speak for me, Sophia,” Finlay said. “Dr Goodwin is correct. I have numerous issues regarding his ethics.”
It was the doctor’s turn to feign amusement. “But I’ve told you nothing about my dealings with the patient.”
“Then let me provide enlightenment.” Finlay relaxed back in the chair and steepled his fingers. “For seven years, you have treated Jessica Draper. You’re so comfortable here you dine with the family, and yet you constantly refer to her as ‘the patient’. Your impersonal manner signifies an air of detachment. And so I must conclude that you have no desire to cure Jessica of her affliction.”
Sophia stared at Finlay, impressed by his level of insight, ashamed the important fact had eluded her, surprised by the depth of his vehemence.
Dr