Highland Heiress - By Margaret Moore Page 0,64
behind the doctor’s back.
He was glad she’d been reticent on exactly what he’d been doing, but he blushed nonetheless.
The doctor immediately put his hand on Gordon’s forehead.
“Is that a fever or are you rightly ashamed of yourself for disobeying your doctor’s orders?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t do as I was told,” Gordon contritely replied, “but it’s difficult to stay in bed when you don’t feel sick.”
“Well, no serious harm done, it seems,” Dr. Campbell said as he began to rebandage Gordon’s torso. “This is healing quite nicely, really. I see no reason you can’t go home today or tomorrow, if your carriage goes at a moderate pace.”
Gordon had a reason not to go home, and it had nothing to do with the speed of the journey. However, he did have clients waiting, and he could hardly abandon them, at least so abruptly. Perhaps in time, gradually, he could move his legal business to Glasgow.
But that was in the future. For now, he had to go back to Edinburgh. “I didn’t come in a carriage. I suppose I can hire one in the village?”
“Aye, at the livery,” the doctor answered. “And a driver, too. I recommend no more than ten miles a day. It’ll take you longer, but you’ll be the better for it.”
“Thank you, Doctor, and remember what I said about the bill.”
Dr. Campbell nodded as they shook hands. “Good day, and good luck, Mr. McHeath,” he said, then turned and left the room.
“I’ll be leaving now, too,” Mrs. McAlvey announced. “You don’t need a nurse anymore—not that you listened to me anyway.”
“I’m very grateful for all that you’ve done for me, and you’ll find an appropriate expression when I send a cheque for your services,” Gordon said. “I’m sure I wouldn’t have recovered so well without you.”
Her lips curved into a sly little smile. “Oh, I think you would have. I don’t think it was me that made you mend so fast. Nothing like love’s promise to make a person get better.”
He considered protesting, but how could he, when she’d seen him with Moira in the morning room?
“And I trust you won’t do any more prizefighting,” she said sternly. “Such carryings-on for a grown man, and a solicitor, too!”
“That was my last fight, I assure you.”
“Good. You’ll break that poor girl’s heart if you get hurt again, and she’s got enough to worry about with that father of hers.” Her brow furrowed as she patted him on the arm. “I suppose I ought to warn you. Although they’re on the outs for now, she’s too used to taking care of him to ever really stop.”
He wouldn’t expect anything else. “No, I don’t think she ever will.”
“Well, as long as you know what you’re in for,” she said as she picked up her valise, which he hadn’t seen behind the door.
“She’s worth it, Mrs. McAlvey. More than worth it.”
The nurse gave him a warm smile. “Aye, I suppose she is. Well, sir, I wish you all the best, and Lady Moira, too.”
He held out his hand. “Goodbye, Mrs. McAlvey, and thank you.”
Instead of taking it, she enfolded him in her arms. “You take care. And marry that girl.”
That was easy enough for Mrs. McAlvey to say, Gordon reflected after she had gone and he was alone. He’d like nothing better than to marry Lady Moira.
However, in his business he was used to considering cold, hard facts in the bright light of day, and he did so now, trying to keep his feelings—his need, his desire—out of it.
She was a lady; he was just a lawyer.
Her father considered him an enemy, and he—Gordon—was responsible for a breach between father and daughter that might continue for months or even years, and would be painful for them both.
Moira had her school to build; he had his clients.
She would be in Glasgow; he would be in Edinburgh.
Most importantly of all, could either of them really trust their emotions? Once before he thought he was in love; she had believed she loved Robbie. How could either of them be sure that what they felt was truly a love that would last the rest of their lives unless they spent more time together?
Yet they had no more time, for tomorrow, he would go to Edinburgh and she would not.
Dressed in her nightgown, bedrobe and slippers, Moira crept quietly along the corridor toward the blue bedroom sometime after midnight. Tomorrow morning, Gordon McHeath was leaving for Edinburgh and she was determined to see him alone before he departed,