Doctor...to Duchess? by Annie O'Neil Read Free Book Online

from joining in that fun run.
    “Scooch. I have another batch of buns in the oven.”
    Oliver found himself being unceremoniously moved to the side as Clara bustled about the oven doors.
    “Are you sure there isn’t just one tiny bun free for me?”
    “What? And rob the village of a heart attack machine? Oliver!” Clara’s eyes went wide in mock horror before slipping one of the steaming currant buns onto the counter. “There you go, but I’ll leave you to tell Dr. MacKenzie why we won’t have hit our target if we’re twenty-five pence short.”
    Add fuel to Julia’s fire that he didn’t give a monkey’s about the locals? Hardly.
    “I’ll pay for it right now.” Oliver dug into his pocket and pulled out a bit of lint with a sheepish grin. “Put it on my account?”
    Perspective. That was what he needed to retain.
    A Cakes and Bakes sale was hardly going to make a difference to his ultimate decision, but perhaps having Julia here would make things easier. He hardly wanted to leave the clinic hanging in the wind, and she obviously saw the need for the country hospital to stand on its own two feet. Maybe that was why his father and Dr. Carney had hired her. She was putting down roots. Something they suspected he wouldn’t—couldn’t—do. That had always been for Alexander.
    He pushed away the thought. Some things weren’t worth revisiting.
    “What’s for supper tonight, Clara?”
    “Don’t expect the usual setup, love. Your father tends to eat a small meal in the library now with a good book by the fire. I can make you up something more hearty if you fancy. The larder’s always full.”
    Oliver raised his eyebrows in astonishment. His entire life, meals had been taken in the dining room. His parents had always insisted upon it. It was traditional. He tried to shrug off the surprise. He could hardly blame his father for not wanting to eat there alone. The formal dining room was
formal
. Not much fun if you were on your own.
    “Not to worry, Clara. I’ll eat with father.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and jogged up the stone stairwell to the main floor, wondering what else might be in store for him.
    The last thing he’d expected when he’d come home was to be the only thing about this place that hadn’t changed. Who would have thought all it would take to shift centuries of tradition was one very beautiful English rose?

CHAPTER THREE
    “ H ELLO ?” O LIVER PUSHED on the clinic door a bit harder. It wasn’t locked but the thing wouldn’t budge. It probably just needed a good shove with his shoulder.
    “Hang on! Stop! You can’t come in.” Julia’s voice came through the curtained clinic door, clear as a bell.
    “I’m sorry?” Oliver knew he and Julia hadn’t gotten off to a particularly smooth start, but he didn’t think he’d be barred entry to the clinic.
    “You’re not supposed to be here!” Her voice sounded strained.
    “I didn’t think there were prescribed visiting hours,” Oliver snapped back. He’d been hoping to have a quiet visit with Dr. Carney—a game of chess, a bit of chat; perhaps a bit of fact-finding of his own. He guessed he didn’t need more of that. He knew where he stood with Julia. Loud and clear.
    “You’ll have to come round the back if you want to come in.”
    Oliver shifted the large newspaper cone of daffodils from one arm to the other and picked up his chess set. He’d never expected special treatment for having been born “up at the big house”—but this was a bit rich.
    He made his way around the small stone building, noting how well the flower borders and baskets looked. Julia or the gardener? He wasn’t sure, but he knew where he would lay his bets. At this point, he’d be surprised to hear a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed woman ever slept.
    The back door opened without a problem and in an instant his grumbly thoughts disappeared. Julia was halfway up a stepladder at the front door rather fetchingly twisted in an unraveled