Chapter 25
Rain slashed down the windows of the Royal Medical Academy in east London. It turned the mounds of snow into gray slush that clogged the footpaths and splattered the buildings with icy sludge from each passing motor car. Situated on the corner of some highbrow street crossed with a priggish lane, the RMA had towered as a goliath in all its white limestone and colonnade glory since 1684, presiding over the health and advancement of medicine for mankind. More correctly, advancing the field when the governing old whitebeards deemed such advancements worthy of the cut. Everything not worthy was immediately thrown out like yesterday’s chips or newspaper.
Which was precisely how Wynn found himself sitting on a bench outside the delegation hall staring at his bullet-punched kopek. For nearly five days he’d sat in that tomb of a chamber under the grilling eyes of the medical board directors and answered question after question about his education, training, experience during the war, political leanings, religious beliefs, readings, and everything else they could think of to suss out whether he was of sound mind to perform surgery.
The implication of such a finding should have been the single point to occupy his mind, but it wasn’t. His thoughts remained fixated on Thornhill, or rather within Thornhill. The instant that telegram arrived to summon him to London, he’d gone in search of Svetlana.
And found that weasel kneeling at her feet. The same weasel who had barged into their home, wrapped his arms around Wynn’s wife, and kissed her for all the county to witness. She’d said it meant nothing to her, but that didn’t stop Wynn from wanting to beat the miscreant black and blue.
Guilt hit Wynn hard and quick like a punch to the rectus abdominis. Was he wrong to have married her when she waited for Sergey? A man she’d known for years, another Russian? Wynn braced his arms on his knees and hung his head. If given the option, would she wish to free herself of the marital contract and leave with Sergey? She had grounds to obtain an annulment. Wynn squeezed his hands together as his fingertips turned cold. Could he let her go when she’d come to mean so much to him?
“Not going to be sick, are you?” Gerard. His old friend had finally returned from war-torn Paris only to find a summons waiting for him to give a report on one Dr. Edwynn MacCallan, with whom he assisted in surgery that fateful day last summer. After giving his testimony of the events, Gerard had sat in the upper galleys as Wynn’s moral support.
“No.”
“Thinking about what’s going on behind those doors?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look like you’ve diagnosed your dog with one week to live?”
Wynn heaved a sigh and pocketed the coin. “I’m in love with my wife.”
“Oh. Hard time that.”
Wynn lifted his head and stared at his friend. “How would you know?”
“I’ve got brothers, haven’t I? They’re always going on about the misery of the old ball and chain, then follow it up with adamant declarations of love. Which is then followed up with a pint.” Gerard plopped on the bench and scratched a freckled hand through his ginger thatch of hair. “Do you need a pint?”
“No.”
“You might after today.”
Wynn jerked upright, every nerve on edge. “Why? Have they said something?”
“No. At least not while I was in there. Bickering back and forth. It’s enough to make a man’s head explode.” Gerard’s thin shoulders sagged as he rolled his homburg hat between his hands. “The truth is, mate, they don’t know what to do with you. Half the room is for tossing you in the tower, and the other wants to reinstate you with a formal apology by saying death is a part of our practice and you’ve always been a man to uphold your oath to do no harm.”
“And if my arrogance overtook my oath on that operating table? Would Harkin be here with us? You always told me it would get me in trouble one day.”
“I also said you were bloody brilliant.”
Wynn snorted. “Aye, bloody brilliant at disgracing myself.”
“Aha! That right there is where a pint will help. After a few you won’t feel disgraced anymore. You won’t feel anything anymore.”