Ecstasy Wears Emeralds by Renee Bernard Page B

books and still opened texts spread across the table.
    â€œDr. West is . . . indulging me. I am very interested in medicine.”
    Peter eyed the Latin text and then looked back at her with a touch of awe. “That’s quite an interest.”
    â€œI’ve always been fascinated with the practice of medicine. Ever since I was a little girl.”
    â€œReally? It seems an odd thing for a woman. Not to be abrupt, but my sisters never seem to lift their noses past their bonnet ribbons. However did it capture your attention, Miss Renshaw?”
    His interest seemed so open and without judgment, and Gayle could detect no trace of sarcasm in his tone, so she found herself dropping her guard. “My father once said I was born asking questions, and I’ve always loved discovering how things work and what they’re composed of—even to the sad end of several of my family clocks and our garden fountain.”
    â€œOh, my!” Peter commented, offering a bit of jovial encouragement.
    â€œWhen my older sister fell ill with scarlet fever, I was nine. She was seventeen and I idolized her. They banished me from her rooms, but I couldn’t stay away. The doctor looked like a wizard with his white beard and all the magical items he pulled from his great leather bag. All those vials and strange instruments! And the way my parents seemed to shrink and defer to him whenever he entered the room . . .” She sighed, the memory taking on a life of its own. “I stole into Emily’s room whenever I could to watch him tend to her. Everyone said in whispers when they thought I couldn’t hear them that she was sure to die.”
    â€œBut she didn’t!” he guessed.
    â€œShe didn’t.” Gayle smiled. “I loved Emily more than anything in the world, and she didn’t die that summer. And I knew right then that I wanted to be able to do that, to save someone’s life and possess the knowledge of all the wonderful things that man had tucked away in that worn brown satchel.”
    â€œAnd what does your sister think of your surprising ambitions?” he asked.
    â€œI can only imagine.” Gayle returned to a more painful present by rote practice. “She died the following year in a tragic accident. She’d gone to stay with friends of the family and there was a house fire.”
    â€œI’m so sorry! How horrible for you!”
    â€œThank you for your kindness, but . . .” She did her best to set the dark turn in the conversation aside. “I’m sure it’s the reason my parents were so protective and eager to keep me close—and never pressed me to marry.” Gayle smiled at the thought. “So, there’s the blessing! I became as independent and headstrong as a mule, and probably wretchedly spoiled. I never developed a talent for being told what to do, Mr. James, and now that I am on my own, I can pursue my interests as I have always wished.”
    â€œIt’s a rare and lovely soul that can find the bright side to these things, miss.” Peter nodded his blond head, as if concurring with his own wisdom.
    â€œYes,” Rowan interjected from the open doorway, his expression difficult to interpret. “Miss Renshaw is a determined optimist, if nothing else.”
    Gayle jumped a little, startled yet again by an unexpected presence, but this time, her heart only sped up when she saw him. She hated the guilt that poured through her, as if she’d been caught doing something illicit with the chemist and Rowan had walked in on them.
    â€œHow are we doing, Mr. James?” Rowan spoke directly to Peter as if she wasn’t even in the room. “Did you get my request?”
    â€œYes, indeed! I brought more of the headache remedy just for you, doctor. And your general inventory is adequate enough, but I notice that you’re running low on the opiates. Shall I ask Mr. Fitzroy to compound more of your usual