The Doctor’s Proposal Page 2

  Who needed a bedtime story most? The twins or himself?

  The answer was obvious.

  ‘We could all use a good fairy-tale,’ he told Boris as he watched the flaming ball of anger stomp along the cobblestones toward him. ‘Do godmothers do a line in “Beam me up, Scotty”?’

  No godmother arrived, and he couldn’t leave. The woman’s car was blocking his path and he was forced to stay motionless while she hauled open his door and let him have it with both barrels.

  She wanted answers?

  ‘What do you mean, you want answers?’ he asked coldly, sliding his long frame out from the vehicle so he could face her anger head on. She’d said she was Angus’s family but he’d never seen her before. Who was she?

  He would have noticed if he had seen her, he decided. She was five feet three or four, slim, with an open face, clear brown eyes and glossy auburn curls that tangled almost to her collar. Late twenties? he thought. She had to be-and she was lovely. She was dressed in faded, hip-hugging jeans and an oversized waterproof jacket, but her clothes did nothing to dispel his impression that she was lovely.

  Apart from her foot. One foot had landed in a puddle. It was the same foot he’d squashed, he remembered, and he looked down and saw the mud and felt repentant.

  Then he thought of Angus and he stopped feeling repentant.

  ‘My sister and I have travelled all the way from New York to visit Mr…Lord Douglas,’ she snapped. ‘We need to see the earl.’

  ‘You mean Angus.’ He’d only referred to Angus as His Lordship to intimidate these two into leaving. It hadn’t worked so he may as well go back to using Angus. Angus, his friend.

  What else could he do for the old man? he wondered as he waited for the virago to speak again. Angus needed oxygen. He needed round-the-clock nursing, and if he didn’t get it…

  ‘My sister’s not well,’ the woman snapped.

  So what was new? ‘No one’s well,’ he said bitterly. ‘And there’s only me to deal with it. I need to do three more house calls before dinner. Can you move your car, please?’

  ‘You’re a doctor?’ she asked blankly, and he sighed.

  ‘Yes. I’m Dr Jake Cameron, Angus’s doctor.’

  ‘You don’t look like a doctor.’

  ‘Would you like me to wear a white coat and stethoscope? Here? An hour ago I was shifting cows blocking the track to my next patient. This is not exactly white-coat country.’

  ‘I thought you might have been a nephew.’

  ‘You are indeed a close family,’ he said dryly. ‘Does your sister need medical attention?’

  ‘No, but-’

  ‘Then, please, move your vehicle. I’m two hours late and you’re making me later.’

  She wasn’t listening. ‘Is there anyone else we can talk to?’

  ‘Angus is alone.’

  ‘In that huge house?’

  ‘He’s accustomed to it,’ he told her. ‘But if it’ll make you happier, he won’t be here much longer. He’s being transferred to the Dolphin Bay nursing home tomorrow. It’d be much easier to call there, don’t you think? But if you’re thinking of pushing him to change his will, don’t bother. You bring a lawyer near him and I’ll call the police.’

  She gazed straight at him, her eyes wide and assessing.

  ‘Why are you being horrible?’

  ‘I’m not being any more horrible than I have to be. Angus is weary to death of family pressure and I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘So be nice to me fast. Tell me why we can’t see the earl.’

  He sighed. He’d had this family up to his ears. ‘Angus has severe breathing difficulties,’ he told her. ‘He’s settled for the night and if you think he’s coming downstairs to indulge a couple of money-grubbing-’

  ‘You see, there’s the problem,’ she said, and her own anger was palpable. ‘You’re treating us as if we’re something lower than pond scum. We don’t even know Angus. We never knew he was an earl or that he was living in something that looks like a cross between Disneyland and Camelot. And as for money-grubbing-’

  He was hardly listening. He couldn’t. He was so late! He’d promised Mavis Hipton that he’d look in on her this afternoon, and he knew she needed more analgesic to make it though the night. Mavis suffered in stoic silence. She wouldn’t complain, but he didn’t want her suffering because of these two.

  He glanced at his watch. Pointedly. ‘You said you’re family,’ he told her. ‘Why do you know nothing? You’re not making sense.’

  ‘My sister was married to one of Angus’s nephews,’ she told him, standing square in front of him, making it quite clear he wasn’t going anywhere until she had answers. ‘Susie’s never met her husband’s family, and she’d like to.’

  ‘Especially now he’s dying,’ he snapped. It had only been this afternoon that he’d fielded yet another phone call from Kenneth, and Kenneth had been palpably pleased to hear that Angus was failing. The phone call had left Jake feeling ill. And now…was this Kenneth’s wife?

  He didn’t have time to care.

  ‘I need to go.’

  ‘We didn’t know Angus was dying,’ she snapped, her colour mounting. ‘As far as we knew, Rory’s uncle Angus was as poor as a church mouse, but he’s all the family Rory had-except a brother he didn’t get on with-so we’ve come all this way to see him. Of all the appalling things to say, that we’re fortune hunters!’

  He hesitated at that. For a moment he stopped being angry and forced himself to think. What had she said? Rory’s Uncle Angus. Not Kenneth, then. Rory. The nephew in the States.

  She was so indignant that he was forced to do a bit more fast thinking. OK, maybe he was out of line. Maybe his logic was skewed. Angus was one of his favourite patients, and telling him he had to go into a nursing home had been a really tough call.

  Kenneth might be nasty and unbalanced but there was no reason to assume everyone else was.

  Maybe these two really were family.

  He forced himself to think a bit more. Angus had talked affectionately of his nephew Rory. Jake remembered the old man had been devastated to hear he’d died.

  If Rory had been married, then this pair really were part of Angus’s family.

  Caring family?

  The idea that hit him then was so brilliant that it made him blink.

  ‘You really don’t know Angus?’ he asked, thinking so fast he felt dizzy.

  ‘I told you. No.’

  ‘But you’d like to see him tonight?’

  ‘Yes, but-’

  ‘And maybe stay the night,’ he told her, ideas cementing. He hated leaving Angus. He needed a full-time nurse, but Angus refused point blank to have one. With the state of his lungs, leaving him by himself seemed criminal. He should be in hospital but he refused to go. There was a bed at the nursing home available tomorrow and the old man had agreed with reluctance that he’d go then.

  Which left tonight.

  If he could persuade these two to stay, even if they were after the old man’s money…

  ‘I’ll introduce you,’ he told her, doing such a fast backtrack that he startled her.

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘Yes, now. If you promise to stay the night then I’ll introduce you.’

  She was staring at him like he had a kangaroo loose in the top paddock. ‘We can’t stay the night.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well…’ She looked at him in astonishment. ‘We’re not invited.’

  ‘I’m inviting you. Angus needs his family now more than he’s ever needed anyone. Tomorrow he’s being moved into a nursing home but he needs help now. He has pulmonary fibrosis-he has severely diminished lung capacity and I’m worried he’ll collapse and not be able to call for help.’ He eyed her without much hope, but it was worth asking anyway. ‘I don’t suppose either of you is a nurse?’

  She eyed him back, with much the same expression as he was using. Like she didn’t know what to make of him but she was sure his motives were questionable.


  ‘Why?’

  ‘I told you.’ He sighed and glanced at his watch again. ‘He’s ill. He needs help. If you want to see him…are you prepared to help? If one of you is a nurse…’

  ‘Neither of us is a nurse. Susie is a landscape gardener.’

  ‘Damn,’ he said and started turning away.

  ‘But I’m a doctor.’

  A doctor.

  There was a long pause.

  He turned back and looked at her-from the tip of her burnt curls to the toe of her muddy foot.

  She was glaring at him.

  He wasn’t interested in the glare.

  A doctor.

  ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said at last. ‘A people doctor?’

  ‘A people doctor.’

  A tiny hope was building into something huge, and he tried frantically to quell it.

  ‘You know about lung capacity?’

  ‘We have heard of lungs in America, yes,’ she snapped, losing her temper again. ‘The last ship into port brought some coloured pictures. The current medical belief in Manhattan is that the lungs appear to be somewhere between the neck and the groin. Unless we’ve got it wrong? It’s different in Australia?’

  Whoa. He tried a smile and held his hand up placatingly.

  ‘Sorry. I only meant-’

  ‘Oh, it’s fine,’ she told him bitterly. ‘Who cares what you meant? You’ve insulted us in every way possible. But…’ She hesitated. ‘Angus is dying?’

  His smile faded. ‘He’s dying,’ he said softly. ‘Maybe not tonight, but soon. Much sooner if he’s left alone. He’s refusing oxygen and pain relief, he has heart trouble as well, he won’t let the district nurse near, and if you really are a doctor-’

  ‘If you don’t believe me-’

  ‘Sorry.’ He needed to do some placating here, he thought. Fast. ‘Angus is my friend,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve sounded abrupt but I hate leaving him alone. If you agree to stay here tonight you’ll be making up for a lot.’

  ‘Making up for…?’

  ‘Neglect.’

  Mistake. ‘We have not neglected anyone!’ It was practically a yell and he gazed at her in bewilderment. She turned a great colour when she was angry, he thought. Her eyes did this dagger thing that was really cute.

  Um…that meant what exactly?

  That meant he was being dumb.

  Cut it out, he told himself crossly. You have hours of house calls. Move on.

  ‘OK,’ he agreed. ‘You didn’t neglect Angus. You didn’t know about Angus. I’ll accept that.’

  ‘That’s noble of you,’ she snapped. She glanced behind to the car, but the woman in the passenger seat didn’t appear to be moving. ‘Angus really does need help?’ she asked. ‘Medical help?’

  ‘He really does. Personal as well as medical. Urgently.’

  ‘We’ll stay, then,’ she told him, and it was his turn to be taken aback.

  ‘Just like that. You don’t need to consult your sister?’

  ‘Susie’s past making decisions.’

  He frowned. ‘You said she’s ill. What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘She’s not so ill that she can’t stay here the night. I assume there’s bedding.’

  ‘There are fourteen bedrooms. Deidre-Angus’s wife-was always social. No one’s been in them for years but once a month the housekeeper airs them, just in case.’

  She was only listening to what was important. ‘So there’s room to stay. The bedrooms are on the ground floor?’

  ‘Some of them are, but-’

  She wasn’t listening to buts. She was moving on. ‘Where’s the housekeeper?’

  ‘She doesn’t live in. She comes in three times a week from Dolphin Bay.’

  ‘He really is alone.’

  ‘I told you.’

  ‘And I heard,’ she snapped. ‘Fine. Go and tell him we’re coming.’

  ‘Who did you say you were?’

  ‘I’m Kirsty McMahon.’ She drew herself up to her full five feet four inches and rose on her toes so a bit more was added. ‘Dr Kirsten McMahon. My sister, Susan, was married to Rory, His Lordship’s nephew.’

  ‘The Rory who was killed.’ He hesitated. ‘I remember. Kenneth-another of Angus’s nephews-told Angus some months ago that his brother had been killed in the States. I’m sorry. But-’

  ‘Just leave it,’ she said bitterly. ‘All you need to know is that we couldn’t care less about any inheritance. So let’s just stop with the judgement. Go and tell His Lordship who we are and let me get my sister settled for the night.’

  She was gorgeous.

  She was a lifesaver.

  He left them and, with Boris loping beside him, made his way back into the house. He had keys-something he’d insisted on when Angus had had his last coronary-and he knew the way well, so he left Boris-sternly-at the foot of the stairs and made his way swiftly up to the old man’s apartments.

  A doctor here. The thought was unbelievable. His mind was racing forward but for now… He had to focus on Angus.

  Angus wasn’t in bed. He was at the window, staring out at the kitchen garden to the sea beyond. He was a little man, wiry and weathered by years of fishing and gardening; a lifetime’s love of the outdoors. Jake remembered him in the full regalia of his Scottish heritage, lord of all he surveyed, and the sight of the shrunken old man in his bathrobe and carpet slippers left an ache that was far from the recommended medical detachment he tried for. He’d miss him so much when he died, but that death would be soon.

  He needed a coronary bypass and wouldn’t have one. That was a huge risk factor, but it was his lungs that were killing him. Jake could hear his whistling gasps from the door, signifying the old man’s desperate lack of oxygen.

  ‘I thought you were going to bed,’ Jake growled, trying to disguise emotion, and Angus looked around and tried to smile.

  ‘There’s time and more for bed. It’s only five o’clock.’

  ‘Your supper’s on the bedside table,’ Jake told him, still gruff. He’d brought the meal up himself because if he hadn’t, Angus wouldn’t eat. He and Angus had been friends for a long time now, and it was so hard to see a friend fade.

  ‘I’ll get to it. What brings you back?’

  ‘Could you cope with a couple of visitors?’

  ‘Visitors?’

  ‘Two Americans. Sisters. One of them says she was married to Rory.’

  ‘Rory.’ Angus’s smile faded. ‘My Rory?’

  ‘Your nephew.’ Jake hesitated. ‘Kenneth’s older brother? He must have left for overseas before I came here.’ He paused and then as Angus turned back to the window he said gently, ‘Tell me about him.’

  ‘I haven’t seen Rory for years.’

  ‘You had three nephews,’ Jake prodded. He wanted family interest-he wanted any interest-and he was prepared to make himself even later to get it. This had to be his top priority. To see Angus give up on life was heartbreaking, and maybe these two women could be his salvation.

  ‘I’d be having two brothers,’ Angus whispered, so softly that Jake had to strain to hear. ‘We left Scotland together. Dougal, the youngest, went to America. David and I came here. Dougal and I lost touch a long time ago-yes, there’s another nephew somewhere, but I’ve not met him. But David married here and had Rory and then Kenneth. They moved from Dolphin Bay but the lads came back for holidays.’

  ‘Were they nice kids?’ Jake murmured, encouraging him.

  ‘Rory loved this place,’ Angus said softly. ‘He and I would be fishing together for hours, and Deidre and I loved him like the son we could never have. But Kenneth…’

  Kenneth. Jake couldn’t suppress a grimace. It had been a dumb question. Kenneth definitely couldn’t have been nice.

  ‘Kenneth was Rory’s younger brother.’ Angus was struggling hard to breathe. Maybe he shouldn’t be talking, but Jake didn’t intend to interrupt. There were major issues at stake here-like a ready-made family at the front door. If Kirsty really was a
doctor… If he could install her here…

  ‘Kenneth is a troubled young man and I’m sure you can be seeing that,’ Angus managed. ‘You’ve met him. He takes after his father. Every time Rory came near there was a fuss, more and more as they got older and Kenneth realised Rory would inherit my title. As if any title matters more than family.’

  He paused and fought for a few more breaths. There was an ineffable sadness in his eyes that seemingly had nothing to do with his health. ‘Kenneth was so vicious toward Rory that, once his parents died, Rory decided family angst wasn’t worth it,’ he said sadly. ‘He took off to see the world. He’s been away these past ten years, and the next thing I knew Kenneth was telling me he was dead. I was so…sorry.’

  So maybe Kirsty had been telling the truth, Jake thought. Maybe she did know nothing of Angus. For a moment he regretted he’d made her angry. But then he remembered the flare of crimson in her cheeks and the flash of fire in her brown eyes and he didn’t regret it. He found he was almost smiling.

  This was looking good, he thought. This was looking excellent. Angus had been fond of Rory. Rory’s widow was at the gate, and if Rory’s widow was anything like her sister…they could be a breath of fresh air in this place. A breath of life.

  ‘They’re outside, waiting,’ he said. ‘I told them to give me a minute and then follow.’

  ‘Who?’ Angus was lost in his thoughts, and was suddenly confused.

  ‘Rory’s widow and her sister.’

  ‘Rory’s widow,’ he repeated.

  ‘So it seems.’

  ‘Kenneth didn’t tell me he was married.’

  ‘Maybe Kenneth didn’t know.’

  Angus thought about that and then nodded, understanding. ‘Aye. Maybe he wouldn’t. Rory learned early to keep things to himself where Kenneth was concerned.’

  ‘But you’d like to see them?’

  ‘I’d like to see them,’ Angus agreed.

  ‘Could you give them a bed for the night?’ Jake asked-diffidently-and held his breath.

  The old man considered. He stared through the window down at his garden-his vegetable patch, where Jake knew he was longing to be right now.