The Doctor and the Libertine - Callie Hutton Page 0,3
me.”
Dr. Stevens crossed her arms over her chest. “Hmm. You think yours threw you? I assume you had been imbibing in strong spirits?”
“Yes. You are correct, Dr. Stevens. May I request a little bit of brandy? It will help with the pain.”
“Ah. I am very sorry to tell you that there are no spirits—of any kind—in this house.”
His brows rose to his bandaged forehead. “None?”
She shook her head, her lips in a tight line. Gone was the friendly, smiling, doctor. This woman was a beauty and truly a sight to behold. Her curves were well outlined in a very well-washed dress, covered with an apron all the way to her feet.
Her brown hair gleamed with golden highlights as the sun streamed through the window. Her clear blue eyes regarded him with intelligence. “I am afraid not, my lord. We do not permit liquor of any sort here.”
“Well, in that case, do you have a butler or a maid who can fetch some for me? I’m sure I have money on me somewhere.” Almost as if he just realized he was wearing nothing more than a loose-fitting nightshirt, he scowled. “Where are my clothes?”
“I am sorry to tell you they are useless, my lord. I had to cut them off you last night.”
“You cut off my clothes! Do you have any idea how much they cost?”
She shrugged. “Probably not. But I could not examine you without removing your clothes and since I didn’t know what sort of injuries you were suffering, I couldn’t take a chance on maneuvering you around to take them off.”
He grinned. “Did you enjoy taking off my clothes while I was unconscious, doctor?”
She didn’t blush, didn’t squirm, didn’t giggle. She scowled. “Lord Sterling, I am a doctor, not a giggling sweet little miss you’ve enticed into the garden to steal a kiss or other things. You are in serious trouble, and I suggest you spend more time asking questions about your injuries and recovery.”
Well, then.
“If you would be so kind as to send for some brandy, I will be happy to discuss my medical condition at length.”
He needed a drink.
“My lord. Let me make this very clear. The only alcohol that will ever be on these premises is the one I use to clean my instruments and rub down the counters.”
“Fine. Please discuss my medical condition and then I will send for my driver to bring me home.”
“No.” Nothing else, she just stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I said no. You are not going anywhere, my lord. You cannot be moved for a while. Your injuries are too great to survive a ride in a carriage, coach or wagon.”
He narrowed his eyes, beginning to dislike this woman who thought herself a doctor. “Define ‘for a while’.”
“It is truly hard for me to say, because it depends on how your body heals. With the way you’ve abused your body with drinking and God knows what else, I’m afraid it will be at least a few weeks.”
“A few weeks! No. That will not do. I cannot lay here in this infirmary for a few weeks.” He shook his head. “No. I must send for my driver.”
She leaned over him, practically nose to nose. “Listen to me, Lord Sterling. You were in bad shape physically before you were stupid enough to engage in a horse race while drunk. Now that you’ve done severe damage to your body, you are at risk for infection and improper healing. The last thing you need is more alcohol. You need food and rest.”
His anger turned to panic. No brandy? No wine, or ale? This woman must have been sent from the devil. “All right. Tell me what’s so very wrong with me that I have to stay here for—” He waved his hand around. “—whatever it was you said.”
The doctor stood and walked to the counter and picked up the pad she’d been writing on when he awoke. She settled back on the stool and flipped back through a few pages.
“You have a broken tibia—”
“—stop! Please use terms I can understand. I know nothing about medicine.”
He could have sworn she mumbled he knew nothing about anything, but he chose to ignore it.
“You have a broken bone in your right lower leg. You cracked two—I think—ribs. A sprained wrist. Aside from that, you have cuts, scrapes, a black eye, and other bruises all over your upper body.” She closed the pad and looked at him. “Since you said the last thing you remember is racing your horse