Ecstasy Wears Emeralds

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Authors: Renee Bernard
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amounts?”
    â€œYes, and have them delivered as soon as possible. I cannot be out of them as some of my patients will have need soon.”
    â€œYou use less than any physician I know, Dr. West, if you don’t mind me saying.” He smiled at Miss Renshaw. “Your doctor doesn’t trust the new miracle drugs!”
    â€œI don’t believe in miracles. But when Mr. Fitzroy produces them, I am always grateful.”
    â€œAnd he meant for me to say as much to you, doctor! That new compound you suggested has our Mr. Fitzroy more cheerful than I’ve seen in years.” Peter pulled a packet of papers from his jacket pocket. “I almost forgot to give you his letter on the matter. I was instructed to hand it only to you personally.”
    Gayle watched with some curiosity as the sealed bundle changed hands.
    He read the papers in silence as she waited as patiently as she could for him to address her. Instead, he finished and turned back to Mr. James. “Well, thank you, Mr. James. I’ll answer him by letter personally, but please convey my interest. You’ll send the supplies we discussed right away, won’t you? And otherwise, I’ll see you in a few days.”
    It was a dismissal, and Peter James seemed to take it in stride. He gave Gayle a quick smile and nod before retreating to get back to his duties at Mr. Fitzroy’s.
    Alone in the room, a long, awkward silence spun out between them before Rowan finally looked at her.
    Gayle forced herself not to fidget under his scrutiny. “Did you just return? Was it Mr. Fisher? You didn’t say before you left, but yesterday you’d mentioned that he was apt to send for you.”
    â€œDid you have a nice visit with Mr. James?” he asked, completely disregarding her questions.
    Gayle froze in place, then slowly stood away from the table to put herself squarely in front of him like a boxer preparing for the next round. “Say what you mean to say, Dr. West.”
    â€œI asked you why you wanted to become a physician and you refused to answer me. But the druggist . . . You confide in my druggist’s assistant ?”
    It was indefensible and a small comfort to him that she did manage to look abashed and unhappy at the question. Her cheeks stained pink, but he knew better than to expect her to retract anything or make excuses.
    â€œI’ll speak to whom I wish about any subject I wish! Perhaps you’ve mistaken the bounds of your authority, Dr. West, if you think to command personal confidences and memories!”
    Rowan wasn’t about to crumble at the first display of her claws. She looked exhausted and he knew he was the sole cause. He’d barely been inside his own doorway before Mrs. Evans caught him to express once again how anxious she was about the presence of a female apprentice under his roof and set him in motion with a pronouncement that Miss Renshaw looked positively ill from the dreadful torture he was subjecting her to. He’d rushed upstairs with the intention of making sure that she was hale and hearty and apologizing for the ridiculous scholastic marathon he’d been putting her through out of spite.
    But instead, he’d walked in on her practically sighing on Peter James’s shoulder. Rowan couldn’t remember when he’d been this angry.
    â€œI see. You are right, of course. Why answer my questions when you can prattle away to Peter James?”
    â€œIt wasn’t prattling.” She looked at the floor, but the fleeting impression of a contrite child didn’t hold. When she looked back up, she embodied defiance. “He was kind.”
    â€œAnd I am not?” He’d meant it as a question, a statement that she would instantly deny and assure him that he was all that was kind—but instead she just looked at him as if he’d spat on the floor.
    â€œIf I had told you some maudlin story about my dying sister, you’d have looked at me like

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