The Doctor's Proposal (10 page)

His face stayed expressionless. ‘Silence makes for concentration.'

‘Sure, and you need to concentrate really hard on a hernia op. It's nail-biting life-and-death drama.'

‘You're being silly.'

‘You don't think it's you who's being silly?'

‘Am I?' he demanded. ‘Kirsty, leave it.'

But the look on his face was making her angry all over again. It was like he was afraid of her. As if he was wary that she'd push him into something he didn't want.

‘I don't want this,' he added, and she glowered.

‘Don't.'

‘Don't what?'

‘Don't you push this any further,' she warned. ‘If you're about to say something about me feeling what you're feeling and it's not wise, or that you're instinctively realising that I want your body but you don't want me, or really you'd love to make mad, passionate love to me but you're a closet gay…'

There was the sound of choking and Babs was goggle-eyed behind them. The nurse had her hand to her mouth, as if she'd tried to keep herself silent but failed. Just as well, Kirsty thought. She was way out of line.

She collected herself. Sort of. Just for a moment there she'd almost been enjoying herself, hauling the self-contained Dr Jake Cameron right out of his comfort zone.

‘Don't mind me,' she managed, turning and smiling at Babs. ‘I'm an American. We're known for being forward, if not downright ridiculous.' She turned back to Jake. ‘But, of course, I'll do your list, Dr Cameron. Any time. Anywhere. But not now, as I'm off home to our castle to check on Angus and Susie.' She took another deep breath and almost recovered.

‘Don't fret that you were eavesdropping,' she said finally to Babs. ‘What you heard—very clearly—was me
not
propositioning your Dr Jake.'

 

What was it with the man? All the way home she fumed, trying to figure out what her hormones were doing to her. Why was she feeling like this?

Jake wasn't the only one who didn't do relationships. Kirsty had no intention of letting herself go down that route.

She'd learned early. When Kirsty and Susie had been ten their mother had died unexpectedly and tragically of a subarachnoid haemorrhage. They'd all been devastated—of course—but their father had been passionately in love with his wife and he'd never recovered.

Two years after his wife had died, Taylor McMahon had taken his own life, leaving his little girls to a succession of foster-homes.

Love must be appalling to do that to you, Kirsty had reasoned, and she'd decided then and there that she'd never let herself feel that way about anyone but Susie.

When Susie had met Rory…for a little while Kirsty had let herself start believing again in happy-ever-after. Only then Rory had died. Of course. The whole appalling cycle had started again—trying to drag someone you loved back from the brink.

It wasn't going to happen to her. She dated nice safe men who left her emotionally free. That was the way of survival. Nice safe Robert…

If Jake thought she'd threaten that by falling for him, he had to be joking.

So cut it out, she told herself. Quit it with the hormones. The man is seriously threatening to your peace of mind. As well as that, he's seriously committed to his twins and you're not the least bit interested in playing Mom. Even if he was interested. Even if you're interested. Which you're not.

A ready-made family would be the pits.

She pulled into the castle forecourt and Jake's two little girls came racing out the front door to meet her. There goes that argument, she thought bitterly as they tugged open her car door. These two buttons were seriously cute.

‘We saw you coming from upstairs,' Alice announced—or was it Penelope? They were identically dressed in miniature jeans and grubby windcheaters. Their shoes were caked with mud, and their curls were escaping from the crimson ribbons at the ends of their pigtails. ‘Angus went for a nap and Susie said we had to go up and tell him that Spike's measurement is a whole half-inch wider than yesterday. Mr Boyce says Spike's going to be ginormous.'

‘And Boris got paw marks all over Angus's bed when we let him in,' her twin announced, big with importance in the telling of such a tale. ‘Margie growled, and then she saw our muddy shoes. She told us we were rascals and we had to hop it—but Angus says he likes rascals. Then we saw your car so we thought we might hop it anyway.'

‘So we hopped all the way down the stairs,' the other twin explained again, grinning a hugely appealing gap-toothed grin. ‘The stairs here are beeyootiful. Penelope can hop three stairs at a time and I nearly can but not all the time.'

‘You need practice,' Kirsty said, smiling as she climbed out of the car. She looked behind the twins to where Susie was balancing on crutches in the doorway. Her twin was smiling, and Kirsty had a sudden vision of how her own twin had looked when she had been this age. They must have both looked like this, she thought. Happy, bubbly little girls with not a care between them.

Susie's smile was like that now, she thought in surprise. It was an echo of the past when as twins they'd done their own hopping. Before life had got in the way and they'd realised the damage love could cause. But Susie's smile had been resurrected by this place. By Angus and by Jake and by these two little girls.

Don't you dare let your hormones mess with this, she told herself fiercely. Start acting professionally with Dr Cameron.

‘Margie says as soon as you come back, we have to go home,' one of the twins was saying. They grabbed a hand each
and started tugging her toward the door. ‘But you have to see Spike first. We want to show you ourselves. He's humungous and Susie said he's getting humungouser.'

‘Humungouser?' she said faintly, and from the doorway Susie giggled. It was a great sound, Kirsty thought. It had been so long since Susie had giggled regularly.

‘He's a wonderful pumpkin,' she managed, trying not to sound choked up.

‘Please, can we stay for lunch?' a twin was begging. ‘We'll ring Daddy and tell him we have to. Mr Boyce is out minding Spike, and Margie says he's as happy as a pig in mud and we can stay for lunch as long as you say it's OK and so does Daddy.'

‘What do you think?' Kirsty asked her twin, when she could get a word in edgeways, and Susie's smile broadened.

‘I think these kids are great.'

‘I think this place is great,' Kirsty told her.

‘Did you have fun with Jake this morning?'

Kirsty eyed her twin with caution. The problem with being a twin was that you were known too well.

‘We did a very satisfactory operation.'

‘That's nice,' Susie said demurely.

Kirsty thought, Yep, she'd been sussed.

‘But can we stay?' the twins said plaintively.

‘You ring Jake and ask if the girls can stay for lunch,' she told Susie.

‘You don't want to?'

‘Dr Cameron and I have what's becoming a very cool relationship,' she retorted. ‘So don't get any ideas.'

‘Me?' Susie asked, starting forward on her crutches with an ease that Kirsty found extraordinary. ‘When have I ever? Oh, by the way, Robert called. He said to say he was sorry he missed you this morning. He's going out of town for the weekend but he might find time to ring you on Monday. Now,
that
,' she told the little girls as they tugged Kirsty forward to join her sister, ‘that's what a really passionate relationship ought to be.'

‘Susie…' Kirsty said warningly, and that delicious chuckle sounded out again.

‘I know. I'm sticking my nose in where it's not wanted. But I'm enjoying myself and, oh, Kirsty, it feels so good.'

 

The twins and the Boyces were permitted to stay.

‘Jake sounded really reluctant,' Susie reported after phoning. ‘He kept saying he didn't want the twins to be any trouble, but how can they be when Margie and Ben are here? Margie is lovely and she says she'd much rather babysit here than back in the village.'

It was hard to figure out who was babysitting who, Kirsty thought as the afternoon wore on. After lunch, by common consensus, they returned to the vegetable patch to superintend Spike's growth spurt. Angus and Ben perched on a garden bench in the sun and discussed the merits of different varieties of pumpkin. Susie lay on her mattress, alternatively dozing and supervising Alice and Penelope making mud pies. Margie sat herself down on a rocker on the porch, knitting and listening to her favourite radio show. We look like the Brady Bunch, Kirsty thought suddenly. All contentment and calm.

Who knew what was seething underneath?

She grinned at herself, and her twin saw the grin and demanded an explanation.

‘Domesticity plus,' she said, and Susie gave a sleepy smile.

‘Jake should be here. It's sad that he spends so little time with his girls. You should help him more while you're here, Kirsty, so he can be free.'

‘I'm doing my best,' she said stiffly.

The doorbell rang. Or, as Kirsty had now learned, the bell on the intercom connected to the gate rang.

‘We're not home,' Susie said with a yawn. ‘This is perfect. We don't need anyone else.'

They didn't. But it might be Jake. He did have a right to be here. And maybe…maybe he could stay for a while, Kirsty
thought. Then she gave herself a harsh mental slap for the thought. But she did get up to go and open the gate.

Professional relationship, she told herself firmly as she walked out to the castle entrance.

But before she got there she realised she'd made a mistake, It wouldn't be Jake. He had a key and his own remote controller for the gates.

But she was already at the entrance. She might as well see who…

It wasn't an insurance salesman. She opened the door and it was a man who looked like Rory.

‘Rory,' she said—blankly—unable to believe her eyes. But, of course, she had to be mistaken. Susie's husband had been dead for six months. And when she looked closer this man was different. He had a slighter build, different hair colour, different features…

Different but the same.

‘I'm Kenneth Douglas,' he told her, and all was explained. Rory's brother was Kenneth. Kirsty had never seen him. Susie had met him once, just before Rory had been killed, and she'd reported that he was a creep.

But he was here. He was Rory's brother.

‘Hi,' she said, holding out her hand in greeting. ‘I'm Susie's sister, Kirsty.'

‘Susie?' he said blankly.

‘Rory's wife, Susie.'

His face froze. ‘Rory's wife is here?'

‘Yes.'

‘She has no right.'

‘Angus seems to think she's very welcome,' Kirsty told him, struggling to keep her smile in place. She hesitated, not wanting this man to interrupt their lovely afternoon but knowing that he was Angus's nephew, knowing that he was Rory's brother. She had no grounds for denying him entrance. ‘We're all in the vegetable garden,' she told him. ‘Do you want me to take you through?'

‘Who's in the vegetable garden?'

‘Your uncle—'

‘Angus isn't here.' It was an appalled hiss. ‘He's in a nursing home. He was moving there yesterday. He's dying.'

Grief and fear did odd things to people, Kirsty knew. She wasn't tempted to react to this with anger.

‘I don't think he is dying,' she said gently. ‘We've persuaded him that oxygen will help, and it's been wonderful. He's back gardening.'

‘The doctor said he was going into a nursing home.'

‘Now we're here, he doesn't have to leave. He can stay for as long as he wants.'

‘We?' the man said, and there was no doubting that his overriding emotion was anger. ‘Who's we?'

‘My sister and I.'

‘Your sister has no right,' he hissed again. ‘Who the hell does she think she is? I thought she was too badly injured to travel. I thought she was done with.'

She wanted to slam the door in his face at that, but it was too late. He was through.

‘Look, Mr Douglas—'

‘I want to see her,' he said, and he was striding toward the vegetable garden so fast she practically had to run to keep up. ‘If she's messing with the old man's treatment—if she thinks there's anything here for her… Rory's dead and I'm the only one who has any say in how the old man is treated. Me.'

‘I'm sorry, but…' He'd reached the side gate and he hauled it open while she struggled to think how to deflect him. There was no way. He'd hauled open the gate and was staring through at the scene of domesticity in front of him.

Angus and Ben discussing pumpkins.

Alice and Penelope turning their skills from mud pies to mud sausages—arguing over whose was the longest.

Margie knitting.

And Susie, rising on one elbow to see who it was. Susie, rec
ognising Kenneth's face and trying, falteringly, to smile a welcome. Susie pushing herself into a sitting position. Hampered by her weakness and her advanced pregnancy.

‘Kenneth,' she whispered.

Kirsty glanced again at Rory's brother and got a shock.

Every vestige of colour had drained from his face. If she hadn't reached forward fast and supported him, he would have fallen. He slumped, and she had to assist him to sit on the low stone wall by the gate.

He put his head in his hands and she could see him visibly brace. Stiffen. Look up.

‘You're pregnant,' he said in a voice of loathing, of fury and of pure shock. ‘You're pregnant with Rory's child.'

F
OR
a moment no one spoke. The twins stared open-mouthed. Mrs Boyce's knitting needles stilled and Angus sat back on his heels and gazed at his nephew like he was seeing a ghost.

‘Kenneth.' There was lingering affection in his voice, Kirsty thought. Once he'd loved this man. As a boy?

‘You're supposed to be dead,' Kenneth snarled and any hint of affection, any trace of warmth in the sun-filled afternoon was gone.

‘I'm not,' Angus said warily, putting a hand on his oxygen cylinder as if assuring himself it was still available.

‘I rang that bloody doctor last week and he said you were going into a home yesterday and you were dying.'

‘I said if no one cared enough to come, then he'd die.'

Kirsty hadn't noticed Jake's arrival but he was suddenly right behind him. He must have driven though the gates after Kenneth's arrival, and she had been so caught up that she hadn't heard. Now Kenneth rose, his colour flooding back. ‘You,' he said, and his fury seemed to be escalating by the moment, redirecting itself to Jake. ‘You lied.'

‘Kenneth, take care,' Jake said warningly. ‘There's no need for you to think people here are against you. Would you like to meet my twins?'

He was trying to defuse the situation, Kirsty realised. She looked at the fury on Kenneth's face and thought this had to
be some sort of mental illness. Surely such anger couldn't be justified?

But Kenneth was whirling again to stare at Susie. ‘She's pregnant,' he whispered. ‘Pregnant.'

‘Susie's pregnant with Rory's baby, yes,' Jake said evenly. ‘We all think that's great.'

‘And she'll inherit…' He choked, and Kirsty realised he'd gone past logic. ‘She'll inherit from Rory…'

‘Rory's dead, Ken,' Jake said evenly. ‘Susie won't inherit anything from anyone.'

‘The b—'

‘Get out of my garden.' It was Angus. He was as pale as the night they'd arrived but he had himself under control. He held on to his oxygen cylinder as if he needed its support, but when he spoke his voice was completely steady. ‘If you insult Rory's wife, you're not welcome in my home.'

‘It's not your home. You should be dead.'

‘Jake,' Angus said tiredly, and Jake gave an almost imperceptible nod.

‘Ken, let's go,' he said softly. He took Kenneth's arm and when Ken tried—violently—to wrench away, his hold tightened. ‘You're not welcome here, mate,' he said softly. ‘You know you can't speak to people like this and stay welcome.' He propelled him around, facing away from the others in the garden. ‘Come with me,' he said softly. ‘Something tells me you've been skipping medication. I can help you if you'll come with me. Come back and talk to your uncle when you're feeling calmer.'

‘Don't touch me.' He wrenched with even more fury and because he was hauling backward, toward the gate, Jake let him go. Then suddenly he smashed forward again. But Jake must have been expecting it. As Ken blundered past he caught his arm, twisted, held. He had him locked against him, his arms up behind his back.

‘Ken, we're going to the hospital, mate,' he said softly.

‘I don't need—'

‘You need help.' Despite the violence, shocking in such a peaceful setting, Jake was speaking as if nothing untoward had happened. ‘You know you're supposed to be on medication. You told me last time, carbamazepine.'

‘She's pregnant. It's
mine.
'

‘Kirsty, could you help me take Ken to the hospital?' Jake asked. He smiled across at his little girls, standing open-mouthed and frightened. ‘Guys, Mr Douglas is ill. His head's hurting and it's making him say things he doesn't mean. Dr Kirsty and I will take him away and make him feel better. Margie and Mr Boyce and Susie and Angus will stay and look after you. Is that OK?'

They stared a bit more but they almost visibly relaxed in the face of their father's normal tone.

‘OK,' Penelope whispered—or was it Alice?

‘That's great.' Ken seemed to have slumped against Jake, suddenly passive. He glanced across at Kirsty. ‘You want to drive or sit in the back with our passenger?'

‘I think I'll drive,' she said faintly. ‘If it's OK with you.'

 

The drive back to the hospital was made in grim silence. Ken didn't appear to object, which made Kirsty wonder how often these sort of outbursts had happened in the past. He seemed almost resigned.

At the hospital Jake administered a small dose of chlorpromazine and organised a hospital bed, and then he sat with Ken as he drifted into sleep. Kirsty could have disappeared then, but she didn't. She needed to know about this man's anger, she decided. The way he'd reacted to Susie had been terrifying.

So she made herself a coffee at the nurses' station and waited for Jake to reappear. He finally emerged, looking grim. When he saw her, he seemed to make an effort to make his face relax.

‘I thought you'd have gone home.'

‘I'm driving your car,' she reminded him. ‘That would have left you stuck.'

‘There are hospital cars, or one of the locals would have driven me back.'

‘I wanted to know about Ken. He hates Susie. Why?'

‘Ken hates the world,' Jake said bluntly. He started making himself a coffee, talking to her as if he was thinking aloud. ‘Ken was born with a personality disorder that makes him think the world's against him. Angus tells me that having him here as a child was a nightmare—he was so jealous of Rory that he made life unbearable. Angus saw little of him over the last few years, but lately he's been badgering me about Angus's health. I figure he thinks Angus is going to die soon and he'll inherit. Today's behaviour confirmed that. But his behaviour is way out of normal bounds. He's seriously ill.'

‘What can you do about it?'

‘I'm not sure,' he told her. ‘His behaviour today was so bizarre that in the old days I'd have had him committed.'

‘Not so easy today, huh?'

‘I'd imagine it'd be just the same in the States as it is here,' he told her. ‘Evidence of gross psychiatric disturbance and the sworn statements of two psychiatrists that he forms a risk. What I should have done was let him slug someone today. Then I could have got him arrested. But the nearest person was me and I'm not all that into being slugged for the greater good.'

‘I don't blame you.' She hesitated. ‘What now?'

‘I can hold him here overnight,' he told her. ‘I've probably gone further than wise in giving him a dose of chlorpromazine that'll knock him out. He could probably sue as he didn't agree to it. But I'm hoping that a solid sleep will leave him calmer. I'll make an urgent call to the state psychiatric database people and see if I can find someone who knows him. Then I'll try and get him on some sort of calming medication. But he doesn't have to agree to it, and maybe once he's had a sleep and is back to being logical he won't want it.'

‘Is he functioning?'

‘You mean does he make a habit of verging on violence for
no reason? No. Angus has talked about him to me. He's suffered from uncontrollable rage from childhood but he's somehow kept it under limits enough for him to function. He's a qualified accountant, working in Sydney. He's had two brief failed marriages, so he must seem normal most of the time.'

‘But not today,' she said—and shivered.

‘No.' Jake looked at her like he was looking straight through her, seeing the problems on the other side. ‘Maybe he saw the ramifications of Susie's baby more clearly than either Angus or Susie have seen it yet. They're so delighted to find each other that they haven't seen what's obvious.'

‘Which is?'

‘Angus is an exceedingly wealthy man,' Jake said gently. ‘Although he downplays it, he has a title many people would give their eye teeth for. He also has entailed property back in Scotland. Loganaich is a major seat and Angus has a rent roll that would make your head spin. Angus told me once that he'd never wanted it, but it's entailed in such a way he couldn't avoid inheriting. He said Rory felt the same. Angus was devastated when Rory died, because the next in line—'

‘Is Kenneth,' she breathed. ‘Oh, no.'

‘Maybe not Kenneth any more,' he said sombrely. ‘Maybe Susie's baby.'

Kirsty's breath sucked in as the repercussions sank home. ‘So today…'

‘For the last few months—since Rory's death—Kenneth must have believed that he'll be the next Earl of Loganaich, with all the wealth and privilege that entails. Today he saw Susie's pregnancy and he realised his calculations were wrong. I watched his face. He looked angry when he saw that Angus was using oxygen—that there'll be a delay before he inherits. But when he realised Susie was pregnant, he almost passed out.'

‘She won't want wealth,' Kirsty whispered. ‘She'd never want it.'

‘I figured that,' Jake said gently. ‘Finally. You just have to know you, Kirsty, to know what a loving, giving person Susie must be.'

‘Don't,' she said distressfully. ‘You know nothing about us. Rory and Ken were brothers and they're so different.'

‘Kenneth's ill. You're not ill,' he said softly. ‘Kirsty…'

‘Leave it, Jake,' she said harshly. The hospital corridor was deserted and she felt suddenly exposed. How could he say such things to her and not mean…? Not mean anything?

She didn't want him to mean anything.

‘So what do we do about Kenneth?' she asked, louder than she'd intended, and she flushed. ‘I mean…'

‘There's not a lot we can do,' he said, his eyes still thoughtful. But he wasn't thinking about Kenneth, she thought suddenly, and her flush deepened. ‘As I said, I'll try and find a psychiatrist who knows him and get some advice. I'll try and arrange transport to one of the better psychiatric institutions. We can only hope that when he wakes up he's come to terms with the new order.'

‘He never thought he'd inherit before,' she said, struggling to move past her emotions. ‘Not until Rory died.'

‘So we hold to that. Maybe it'll be fine.'

‘How can it be anything but fine?'

‘That's right,' he said, but he looked worried as he glanced at his watch. ‘I might get the Boyces and the kids to stay on at the castle for the rest of the day,' he went on slowly. ‘It'll take everyone's mind off what's happened and…'

‘And it'll provide more security for Angus and Susie?'

‘It will,' he said gravely, and then he paused for a moment and kept on thinking. ‘You know, the castle is very big. There's lots of bedrooms.'

‘You're thinking of filling them?'

‘It might be fun for the Boyces and the twins,' he told her. ‘Not to mention Susie and Angus. I'll phone Angus and run it past him. Maybe I'll say it'll make you free to help me.'

‘If the twins stay there…'

‘I'll stay there, too,' he said. ‘Just until I know Kenneth's
out of the district.' He hesitated and then confessed, ‘He makes me nervous.'

‘Me, too.'

‘And we should be able to keep our hands off each other for a few days.'

She stiffened. What on earth was he playing at?

‘I don't know about your hands but my hands haven't got the slightest inclination to wander your way,' she snapped. ‘Unless it's to give you a good swipe across the ears. Of all the arrogant, egotistical statements…'

‘You do feel it, too.'

‘Get lost,' she retorted, the emotions of the afternoon venting themselves in anger. ‘Take your rotten feelings and play with them somewhere else. I have no idea what you're talking about.' And she turned and stalked out of the hospital with her nose in the air.

‘How will you get home?' he called after her.

‘I'll walk.'

‘Wait a few minutes and I'll drive you.'

‘I wouldn't trust myself,' she managed without pausing. ‘You and me in a car with all that molten passion… We'd be a road safety risk, Jake Cameron. I'm not coming near you again until you have your passion safely in a glass jar in a locked cabinet. And me… I'm taking my molten whatever for a good long walk.'

She stalked out—past the unsuspecting Babs, who was just coming in.

‘Molten passion?' Babs asked. ‘Am I missing something?'

‘We both are,' Kirsty told her with a tired smile. ‘Dr Cameron and I have just admitted a patient with psychiatric disturbances, but if I were you I'd be worrying about who's treating who. As far as psychiatric disturbances go, it might be a case of physician heal thyself.'

And she left, with Babs staring after her.

She didn't know whether Jake was staring after her. She didn't trust herself to look back and find out.

 

It was a long walk but she needed it. By the time she reached home she was only just nearing a state where she could think with anything approaching calm. And that was only when she very carefully made herself think of anything other than Jake Cameron.

She walked into the forecourt and swung the gate closed behind her. Home, she thought, and then gave a wry grin. Two days ago could she ever have imagined herself thinking of this crazy place as home? But she made her way to the bathroom and greeted Queen Victoria almost like a friend.

It'd be OK. Kenneth might be threatening but this place was built like a fortress after all.

‘You and me will keep them safe,' she told Queen V. ‘We don't need any Jake Cameron.'

She got a disapproving look for her pains. Victoria had had her Albert, and then her Mr Brown. Was she egging Kirsty on toward the involvement she'd always forsworn?

‘I don't need anyone,' Kirsty declared, more than a little self-consciously, and went to find the rest of the castle inhabitants. She might not
need
anyone but a little company would be nice. If only to stop her talking to dead monarchs!