Selina gathered her things. “Of course,” she replied.
“Is there something wrong with Mrs. Graham’s mother?”
“I won’t know until I get there,” she lied. After all his talk about a physician’s abilities and training, she wasn’t about to admit that she was most likely going to watch a woman die tonight.
Colin sat at his desk with his foot propped up as dusk enveloped the estate. A cool breeze fluttered the curtains. He glanced over at them only to notice a woman sitting on the edge of the reflecting pond. Why would Miss White be sitting out there at this time of evening?
For a long moment, he just stared. The wind blew her blond tresses in front of her face. She quickly brushed the hairs away. He felt entranced when she was near. It made no sense. She was the exact opposite of Mary.
“Excuse me, Your Grace.”
He glanced over at the door where Roberts stood with a grim look on his face. “What is it?”
“Mrs. Fitzhugh passed a short while ago.”
“Mrs. Fitzhugh?”
“Mrs. Graham’s mother, sir. She had been ill for months.”
While he’d read the rambling letters his steward sent him every month, he had no real knowledge of his tenants. Their passing had meant nothing to him. He looked back out at Miss White and wondered if she was responsible for the woman’s death. She had left here to attend to her. And yet, the wise woman couldn’t heal her. “Thank you, Roberts.”
Wincing, he stood and reached for his cane. He ambled through the French door and down toward the pond. At first, she didn’t notice his approach; she continued to stare down into the water. When a twig snapped under Colin’s foot, she looked up and shook her head.
“You should not be on that ankle, Your Grace.”
“And you should not be on my land, Miss White,” he retorted and then sat on the edge of the pond to get his weight off his ankle. He did his best to conceal from her the pain he felt. She’d probably give him some damn herbs for the ache.
“I was assisting a tenant.” The breeze blew her muslin skirts about her slim calves.
“I heard Mrs. Fitzhugh passed.”
She nodded.
“Perhaps a physician—”
“Could have hastened her death? Yes, I’m sure that fool man in town would have done just that.”
“And yet, you couldn’t help her either.” He folded his arms over his chest.
A slight smile lifted her full lips upward. “You do not know the first thing about Mrs. Fitzhugh or her condition.”
“Do inform, Dr. White.”
“Very well, the woman was eighty-five years old and had lost her husband of over sixty years only last year. Once he had passed, she lost her will to live. She had loved him since they were both children. She couldn’t imagine life without him.”
Colin couldn’t help but snort. “And that is why you are not a physician. You believe nonsense such as people dying over broken hearts.”
“And no part of you died when your wife passed?”
Her barb hit its mark. “How dare you mention my wife! How I felt after she died is not your concern.”
“Then what exactly is your diagnosis for poor Mrs. Fitzhugh?” She cocked a brow at him as if daring him to answer.
He laughed slightly. “I would not dream of playing at doctoring. That takes training and education.”
“And I am simply an uneducated woman.”
“Education or not, you are a woman.”