Ecstasy Wears Emeralds by Renee Bernard Read Free Book Online Page A

keep and what to disregard. And for you, it’s a step that you cannot omit. If you truly want to keep pace with your masculine contemporaries, you must be fluent in the language of medicine—flawlessly fluent.” He added another heavy leather book to the growing pile. “And remember, I said that there are useful elements of truth in these. Hidden, I grant you, but they’re there for the keen and discerning mind.”
    The look she gave him was solemn and made his chest ache in its sweetness. She was so open and hungry for knowledge, eager for anything he imparted, and so trusting. It was a heady power to think that the imperious and unstoppable Miss Gayle Renshaw would look up at him like that, but Rowan knew the danger. And it was probably precisely the reason that it wasn’t wise to have women at universities. She was so beautiful, a temptation to body and to soul, and a man would have to be blind and dumb to be unaware of the corrupting allure of such a student.
    She’d make the crustiest old man forget himself. Lucky for me, she won’t be here long and I can see this mess behind me before any true damage is done.
    â€œWe’ll start here and then I can determine just how quick a study you are, Miss Renshaw.” He eyed the daunting stack of books and calculated just how bruising a task they might present. “Start with the Articella. I’ll check back with you when I return from my patient calls.”
    â€œCan’t I go with you?” she asked impulsively.
    He shook his head. “Not yet. For now, you read.”
    â€œBut, surely, I could—”
    â€œRead, Miss Renshaw. Read. And one of the first things you’ll read is that ‘life is short, the art long.’”
    â€œYes, Dr. West.”
    â€œStudy, Miss Renshaw. Study as if your life depended on it, for I assure that in this instance, it will.”

Chapter 4

    Rowan adjusted the oil lamp on his desk and finished his final note on the day’s calls. He’d begin having Gayle copy them out soon so that she could see the course of treatments for each patient and start to understand some of the practical work involved in diagnosing illnesses and providing care. It would be tedious work, but he doubted she’d mind it. Miss Renshaw’s enthusiasm hadn’t waned despite all his efforts to bury her in books and assignments.
    In ascertaining the extent of her medical education, he’d learned just how tenacious Miss Renshaw really was. She said she’d learned all her herbal remedies by eavesdropping on a Scottish apothecary situated next to a milliner frequented by her mother. She’d augmented that wisdom with practical bits of advice from various housekeepers, cooks, and country women she’d come into contact with. When visiting family friends, she’d once gotten her hands on a book on anatomy, which was unfortunately in German, but the illustrations had been fascinating enough—until the book’s owner discovered her in his library and removed the unseemly material from her wayward hands. Most recently, the surgeon in Standish Crossing had inadvertently provided a few more hints, but in the village, surgery was considered a rough trade, and since the man also pulled teeth, he was barely acknowledged socially, so he’d been an elusive source for her to use.
    But of Gayle Renshaw, the woman, he knew almost nothing. Where exactly her family was from or how her parents had died were secrets she’d yet to reveal. His new apprentice was determined to keep her distance. From what he could deduct, she was born of country gentry and had been offered a life of some comfort and a middling education. But she’d blithely managed to pursue the most unfeminine interests of botany and science and acquire a better education than her parents thought suitable for their only daughter.
    The next logical step in her education was anatomy, and he only hoped her Latin