Page 114 of The Duke With the Dragon Tattoo
“I’m indebted to you and your wife, Lady Imogen, for agreeing to use your contacts at St. Margaret’s Royal Hospital to examine Lorelai’s case,” Ash said as the men fell in line behind their respective ladies, who all adjusted their speed to match that of Lorelai.
She’d been getting worse lately, slower, and experiencing more pain. There were stormy days, such as this one, where she resorted to using a cane if she could walk at all.
Every time she winced, a part of Ash died a little. If he could lend her strength, or health, or take some of her pain, he would.
Trenwyth, an unusually tall, bronzed Adonis of a man with a paradoxically forbidding expression, regarded the Lady Trenwyth with equal parts adoration and respect. “I’d be just as desperate for a miracle, were Imogen similarly afflicted.”
The men strolled behind their wives toward a row ofwell-appointed carriages, silently admiring the view of the three uncommonly lovely women.
Farah was dressed in bloodred velvet trimmed in black that sparked silver notes into her riot of curls.
Lorelai, in the middle, favored cobalt blue to match the sapphires in her cane and, of course, her eyes. Ash had watched her pin her spun-gold locks into a fashionable chignon, as she hadn’t wanted to bring her lady’s maid on this particular trip.
Imogen was a lithe beauty with an open, expressive face and sleek strawberry-blond hair. She had an air of capability about her that set others at ease and, judging by the temperament of her war-hero husband, was likely necessary.
It wasn’t any wonder that Ash, Blackwell, and Trenwyth had to hover like morose statuary behind them as they gushed and tittered over each other like long-lost friends, all but oblivious to the attention, both male and female, such a stunning array of ladies attracted.
The appointment at St. Margaret’s with a Dr. Longhurst would have gone a great deal faster if Lorelai hadn’t had to talk Ash into letting another man take off her stocking and examine her ankle.
“Aren’t specialists supposed to be old and blind?” Ash had made what he thought was a very salient point.
Apparently used to protective husbands, the young, serious, and imperturbable doctor agreed to allow him into the examination room with her.
After a painful and rigorous inspection that left Ash more pale and sweaty than his wife, he asked anxiously, “Do you think it can be fixed?”
“Certainly.” Dr. Longhurst covered her bare ankle and gently let it rest back on the bed. “All we’d have to do is break it, again.”
“Absolutely not.”
Lorelai put a staying hand on his arm. “If we do this, I’ll be able walk normally again?”
Dr. Longhurst nodded. “It’s risky, but if I could find where the initial break happened, then I could break it with a small hammer, realign the bone, and coax it to heal the way it should have years ago.”
“Did he say hammer?” Ash boomed.
Both his wife and the doctor infuriatingly ignored him.
“With some time, and some strengthening excercises, you might not only walk again, but run.”
Ash swatted the desk with the flat of his hand, garnering him the startled attention of them both. That was more like it. “You said risk.” He narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “What kind of risk?”
Longhurst’s eyes reminded him of a deer’s, or a bunny’s. Soft and brown. They were eyes of prey. Shifty, if intelligent. “There’s always a risk associated with anesthesia,” he stuttered. “But it’s less and less frequent the more we learn about it. Then infection is always a worry, but with modern sanitation techniques, it’s also becoming—”
“Get your things, Lorelai, we’re leaving.” Ash gathered his coat and her hat.
She stubbornly stayed where she was. “I’m getting the operation, Ash.”
He scowled at her. “Did you conveniently miss the part with the hammer?”
Her gaze was steady and resolute. “I want to do this. I want to go all the places you can take me, and I can’t…”
“I already told you, I’ll carry you, if I have to.”
“I want to walk beside you.”
Ash had to swallow three times before he could speak. “It’s not worth losing you.”
She reached up to pull him down next to her, where shetook his clenched jaw in both of her hands. “Let this be, my love. Sometimes, one must be broken, in order to be healed.”
