tried, she couldn’t seem to irk Fis utontthe woman. It made her mood even darker.
Dr. Stone straightened and pointed at a long sideboard against the far wall. “Do you see those three bottles there?”
Claire pushed herself upright, swore at just how difficult movement still was, adjusted her shirt and looked. There were three glass bottles, each filled with a slightly pinkish liquid. “Yes. Is that what you used on me just now?”
“One of them is. And one of them is a synthetic toxin that could kill you instantly.”
“I could take a sample of all three with me.”
“The third is a compound so noxious, a whiff of it would burn the tissues of your nose and throat so badly, you would die a slow and agonizing death.”
No wonder the woman was so confident. “I could hold my breath.”
“Shall I tell you what it would do to your eyeballs?”
Claire stared at her. “You’re bluffing.”
Stone put her hands on her hips. “Go check for yourself.”
“I’m skeptical but not stupid, Doctor. Your formula is safe from me.”
Full lips lifted slightly. “No, ‘stupid’ is not a word I would use to describe you.”
“Though I was stupid enough to get caught.”
The other woman’s expression was guarded, but there was a shrewd glint in her eyes. “You don’t seem to have suffered so badly for it.”
“Except now I’m going to prove myself a traitor and work with a man who would kill me as easily as a dog.”
“Lord Payne would never hurt an animal.”
Claire stared at the doctor, fighting back a bark of unexpected laughter. The woman’s dark eyes sparkled with mirth. “Why don’t you hate me?”
Dr. Stone instantly sobered. “I’ve always thought hate a useless emotion.”
“Really?” Her tone was so dry, sand poured off her tongue.
The other woman began gathering up her medical supplies. “My mother was from Sierra Leone. Are you familiar with it?”
Claire shook her head. “I am not.”
“Many former slaves went there when the government abolished slavery. She was born free. My father was a doctor who went there as a young man. He met my mother, married her and eventually—when I was eleven—brought her back to England. Do you know that there are people here who despise me because of the color of my skin?”
Claire met her direct gaze. “There are many people in my country who would despise you for the same reason.” Slavery in America had been abolished before her birth, but there were people who still clung to the beliefs behind it.
“And it’s such a foolish reason. Did you believe you were doing the right thing when you joined the Company?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m not going to hate you for it. You’ve done nothing to earn my dislike.” The doctor glanced up at the sound of the door opening. “I cannot speak for her, however.”
Claire glanced over her shoulder. Entering the surgical theater was a pretty woman of good height with rich auburn hair and skin the color of cream. She could hate this woman for her perfect complexion. What would the good doctor think of that?
“Who is she?” she asked, turning her attention back to the darker woman.
“Arden Grey,” came the low reply. “Lady Huntley. I believe you know her husband.” There was a wealth of implication behind that judgeless gaze.
“Hell.” And there she was with a hole in her side and no gun. “Is there going to be trouble?”
“Not in my house,” Dr. Stone replied. She went to greet the redhead, putting herself between Claire and the other woman. Something pinched in Claire’s chest—hard. She wasn’t afraid of Arden Grey. There wasn’t much in the world that scared her. No, what she felt was surprise. No one had ever put himself between her and a potential threat before. Not Five—Huntley—not her brother, not even her mother had ever stood at her defense.
If Evelyn Stone asked Claire to kill for her, she would do it without a blink. Did the woman have any idea of the loyalty
Dr. Stone straightened and pointed at a long sideboard against the far wall. “Do you see those three bottles there?”
Claire pushed herself upright, swore at just how difficult movement still was, adjusted her shirt and looked. There were three glass bottles, each filled with a slightly pinkish liquid. “Yes. Is that what you used on me just now?”
“One of them is. And one of them is a synthetic toxin that could kill you instantly.”
“I could take a sample of all three with me.”
“The third is a compound so noxious, a whiff of it would burn the tissues of your nose and throat so badly, you would die a slow and agonizing death.”
No wonder the woman was so confident. “I could hold my breath.”
“Shall I tell you what it would do to your eyeballs?”
Claire stared at her. “You’re bluffing.”
Stone put her hands on her hips. “Go check for yourself.”
“I’m skeptical but not stupid, Doctor. Your formula is safe from me.”
Full lips lifted slightly. “No, ‘stupid’ is not a word I would use to describe you.”
“Though I was stupid enough to get caught.”
The other woman’s expression was guarded, but there was a shrewd glint in her eyes. “You don’t seem to have suffered so badly for it.”
“Except now I’m going to prove myself a traitor and work with a man who would kill me as easily as a dog.”
“Lord Payne would never hurt an animal.”
Claire stared at the doctor, fighting back a bark of unexpected laughter. The woman’s dark eyes sparkled with mirth. “Why don’t you hate me?”
Dr. Stone instantly sobered. “I’ve always thought hate a useless emotion.”
“Really?” Her tone was so dry, sand poured off her tongue.
The other woman began gathering up her medical supplies. “My mother was from Sierra Leone. Are you familiar with it?”
Claire shook her head. “I am not.”
“Many former slaves went there when the government abolished slavery. She was born free. My father was a doctor who went there as a young man. He met my mother, married her and eventually—when I was eleven—brought her back to England. Do you know that there are people here who despise me because of the color of my skin?”
Claire met her direct gaze. “There are many people in my country who would despise you for the same reason.” Slavery in America had been abolished before her birth, but there were people who still clung to the beliefs behind it.
“And it’s such a foolish reason. Did you believe you were doing the right thing when you joined the Company?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m not going to hate you for it. You’ve done nothing to earn my dislike.” The doctor glanced up at the sound of the door opening. “I cannot speak for her, however.”
Claire glanced over her shoulder. Entering the surgical theater was a pretty woman of good height with rich auburn hair and skin the color of cream. She could hate this woman for her perfect complexion. What would the good doctor think of that?
“Who is she?” she asked, turning her attention back to the darker woman.
“Arden Grey,” came the low reply. “Lady Huntley. I believe you know her husband.” There was a wealth of implication behind that judgeless gaze.
“Hell.” And there she was with a hole in her side and no gun. “Is there going to be trouble?”
“Not in my house,” Dr. Stone replied. She went to greet the redhead, putting herself between Claire and the other woman. Something pinched in Claire’s chest—hard. She wasn’t afraid of Arden Grey. There wasn’t much in the world that scared her. No, what she felt was surprise. No one had ever put himself between her and a potential threat before. Not Five—Huntley—not her brother, not even her mother had ever stood at her defense.
If Evelyn Stone asked Claire to kill for her, she would do it without a blink. Did the woman have any idea of the loyalty
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