Free Trondelaine Castle by April Lynn Kihlstrom Page B

Tuesday.
    Concerned about his work, Richard returned to the
library in the afternoon. As usual, Wendy seemed to
ignore him. It was almost teatime when a familiar voice
in the hall distracted him. He greeted Roger with a
smile.
    Roger was in excellent spirits. “Hello! How are you,
Richard? How is my patient? And what, in heaven’s
name, are you doing cooped up inside on such a lovely
day?” With these last words, Roger gave a tug to one of
Wendy’s curls.
    She grinned good-naturedly at him. “I suppose
you’ve come for tea?” she teased.
    “Of course!”
    “Shall we have tea in the garden?” Richard suggested
to the doctor.
    Roger nodded and turned to Wendy as though
debating whether or not to carry her.
    “Don’t!” Richard forestalled him, observing dryly,
“No doubt she needs the exercise. One wouldn’t want
her to grow fat.”

    Roger raised his eyebrows but stood still as Wendy
busied herself with her crutches. She would not dignify
the Earl’s sneer with a reply. In fact, she wished she
could pretend he did not exist. Roger held the various
doors for her as Richard went off to give the necessary
orders about tea.
    She paused once to protest, “I think perhaps it
would be better if I left the two of you alone.”
    Roger looked at her quizzically. “Why, Wendy? Are
you afraid of Richard, or something? You shouldn’t be.
Oh, I know he’s behaving rather badly at the moment,
but it will all come round in the end. Once he gets over
these silly suspicions of his. Then you’ll find he can be
perfectly charming.”
    Wendy wrinkled her nose. “Oh, yes, I imagine he can
be quite charming. Anything to avoid being himself. I
think I prefer people who react naturally to things.”
    “Like me?” Roger asked mockingly.
    “Yes, like you.” Her voice was firm.
    By the time Lord Richard joined them, Roger had
Wendy laughing over some story about one of his
patients. He smiled, but a trifle oddly. “I see why you
are so successful, Doctor. At least with your female
patients. You have such a diverting bedside manner.”
    Roger answered in the same vein, “Oh, but of course
I concentrate on the women! After all, they are the ones
who usually decide when to call the doctor for someone
in the family.”
    The Earl smiled, noting the slight frown on Wendy’s
face. He was amused though, as usual, somewhat
puzzled at her expression. Then, serious again, he
asked, “How is Keith Barton?”
    Roger frowned. “Medically, he’s doing very well.
Everything is healing nicely. But emotionally? Frankly,
I’m concerned. He won’t consider a prosthetic device.”

    “Why?” Richard demanded. “Money?”
    Roger shrugged. “He says so, but that’s nonsense. I
told him you would pay for it and he refused.”
    “Pride?” Richard suggested. “Doesn’t want to accept
someone else’s money?”
    Dr. Witler shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s
it. I think he’s just given up. Thinks he couldn’t be a real
man, not with an artificial hand. He’s afraid he won’t
be able to keep his farm going-or find a wife. You
know, he was seeing Jenny Winslow. Well, she hasn’t
come to visit him once since he’s been back from the
hospital.”
    “Why not?” Richard’s voice was shocked.
    “I don’t know.” Roger sounded tired. “She won’t
talk to me about it. And I think she’s the main reason
Keith is so depressed.”
    Richard nodded slowly. Wendy watched, unable to
say anything, yet feeling a strong empathy with the
man they discussed. Not pity, empathy. She knew very
well the feeling of being inadequate and having that
feeling reinforced by someone you loved. All three
were relieved by the appearance of the tea tray. It broke
the tenseness. Yet, as Wendy poured, she noted the
thoughtful expression on Lord Richard’s face. Well, it
was one problem he and his money couldn’t solve, she
thought.
    After a while, Roger began to talk about some of his