Free Cherished Enemy by Patricia Veryan

it ain’t granted!” Butterworth raised a scrawny fist and shook it under the younger man’s nose, snarling, “Had I a horsewhip, sir, I’d use it on your worthless carcass! You are a disgrace, sir!”
    The interest spread like contagion, and the onlookers began to form a small crowd. Embarrassed, Rosamond drew back.
    Farther along the deck, Roland Fairleigh, chatting with a ship’s officer, turned about, his attention caught by Butterworth’s high-pitched voice.
    â€œJupiter, but I think you are a madman,” said Victor, clearly astonished. “I never saw you before in my life.”
    â€œTook good care of that, did ye not? I repeat—you are a disgrace, sir! To your country, and to your—”
    A steely gleam coming into his grey eyes, Victor put down his burdens and interrupted in a suddenly harsh voice, “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in private. It would be my suggestion, however, that you commit yourself to the care of the ship’s surgeon and—”
    â€œYou damned impudent young jackanapes! I am the ship’s surgeon!”
    The grimness left Victor’s face. He shot a quick glance at Rosamond and said in a lower tone, “I see. If you question my treatment of the lady—”
    â€œ Question it? Blister me, sir, but I’d think you to have been treating the Empress of all the Russias! I sent messages to you, sir! Cries for help! I was buried under a mountain of sick folks, and was damnably sick m’self. Further, I’d a fellow on my hands with symptoms I’d have been exceeding grateful to discuss with a surgeon so fortunate as to have studied at the Sorbonne! An emergency situation in any man’s language—save yours, eh, Dr. Victor? You, with one solitary patient—were too busy to come when I called! For shame, sir! I mean to report you to the College of Physicians, to which end I demand your card.”
    â€œNonsense,” snapped Victor. He gathered his impedimenta again, ignoring the disgusted mutterings that arose from the onlookers. “I paid my passage as did everyone else, and I am not obliged to explain my actions. An you are overworked, Butterworth, you should take your complaints to the shipowners, not seek to pass your responsibilities onto a passenger! Now stand aside, if you please!”
    Red with mortification, and filled with contempt for her “escort,” Rosamond beat a further retreat.
    Dr. Butterworth, however, was not the retreating kind. Sputtering with wrath, he seized Victor by the arm. “I’ll have your card, sir, or know the reason—”
    Accompanied by the First Officer, Mr. Fairleigh pushed his way through the crowd, many of whom were now arguing the merits of the case.
    The officer raised his voice so as to be heard. “My regrets, ladies and gentlemen, for this unfortunate incident.” He turned to Victor and with cold eyes, but polite words, apologized in behalf of the captain. “Dr. Butterworth has been hard-pressed, sir. I feel sure you can understand—”
    â€œOh no, he can’t!” snarled Butterworth with undiminished belligerence. “Fella ain’t got a ha’porth of understanding in his greedy head! The conniving hound found himself a rich patron and—”
    â€œDr. Butterworth,” said the officer uneasily, “I think you forget yourself!”
    â€œAn’ I think,” put in an extremely fat matron, her eyes sparkling at this injustice, “as that there young doctor should have helped, like the—”
    She was interrupted. Mrs. Porchester, arriving on the deck sans porter but with her frisky puppy, saw the commotion and, intrigued, hurried toward it. Trifle caught a glimpse of Victor’s familiar face and made a rush. Clinging to his leash, Mrs. Porchester was swept disastrously through the throng. A gentleman, stepping back, was caught behind the knees by the taut leather leash