Doctor...to Duchess? Read Online Free PDF Page B

lips.”
    Julia jumped at the sound of Oliver’s voice.
    “Sorry—I thought you’d gone.”
    “I have a feeling my bedside manner hasn’t exactly been winning.” He tilted his head at her and offered a smile complete with a couple of crooked teeth.
    Good! He’s not completely perfect! Or does his imperfection make him
more
perfect?
    “It could be,” Julia conceded after a thoughtful chew on her lower lip, “that you encountered my stubborn nature.”
    “Stubborn? You?” Oliver’s smile broadened as he reached for the tape and small splint she was holding. “May I?”
    Despite her resolve to complete the reduction herself, her logical side knew it was best to have it done properly. She was too young to worry about arthritis.
    “All right, you win.” She tipped her head in the direction of the exam room across the hall. It wasn’t like she was going all weak-kneed or anything, but standing together in the tiny supplies cupboard was a bit too close for comfort.
    * * *
    Oliver took Julia’s hand in his, suddenly very aware of how delicate her fingers were. They would have suited a surgeon—which would’ve made fracturing them doubly awful.
    “Did you ever have any ambitions beyond being a village GP?”
    Julia’s eyes shot up defensively. If he could’ve swallowed the words right back he would’ve. There it was again—his “I’m better than you are” tone. His mother had always warned him against being a know-it-all and it looked like he still had some work to do.
    Oliver quickly covered. “That came out all wrong. I just meant, are you happy with what you’re doing?”
    “Perfectly.” The sharp look in her eyes dared him to challenge her. Then she sat back, visibly reconsidering, and continued openly, “The pace is obviously nothing like what you do, but I absolutely love what I’m doing here. You’re looking at the child of parents in the Diplomatic Service. I went on to marry a military man. I’m not sure I’ve ever stayed anywhere longer than a couple of years.” She pushed her lips into a deep red moue.
    How did lips get that red without lipstick? Distracting. Very distracting. Oliver found himself quickly rewinding through everything she’d just said.
    “You’re married?” He made a stab at small talk, well aware he’d already clocked her ring-free hand.
    “Yes. Well...” She was flustered. “Was.”
    What was she now? Divorced? Separated?
    “Widowed.” She filled in the unasked question for him. “Just over a year and a half now.”
    “I am sorry to hear that.”
    “It was always a possibility.” Her voice was surprisingly even. Oliver looked up from taping her fingers with a questioning look.
    “The military life is an uncertain one,” she said without malice. “At least I’ve got the children.”
    Oliver felt his eyebrows raise another notch.
    “Children?”
    “Yes. Two.”
    “Did I see them today? I would’ve thought a fun day in a moat would be straight up a kid’s alley.”
Children?
She’d jammed a lot of living into her life. She didn’t look as if she was over thirty years old.
    “You’re not wrong there!” She laughed, a bit of brightness returning to her eyes as she continued. “They love it here—absolutely love it. But their school—it’s in Manchester—managed to lure them away from me for the weekend with the promise of a trip to London and a West End show.”
    “St. Bryar Primary not good enough?” The words were out before he could stop them. Oliver hadn’t gone there, so why he was getting defensive about the tiny village school was a bit of a mystery.
    “Not at all. You’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” Julia waved away his words. “My two—thirteen-year-old twins—are at the Music Academy in Manchester. I don’t know where they got it but they are unbelievably talented musicians. Cello for Henry and violin for Ella. Heaven knows they didn’t get it from me or their father.”
    “He wasn’t a musician?”
    “Heavens,