“Wish I was going with you, but it’s a few more months until I see England again. I suppose you’re eager to get home and set up Svetlana as the new duchess— Oh, I’m sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to sound crass in the wake of your loss.” Gerard ducked his head, berating himself under his breath. “A terrible thing for me to say.”
Pain stabbed Wynn’s chest as Hugh’s ghost flitted before him. He’d written to Wynn at the beginning of summer saying he hoped to find a wife once the war was over. His preference was a brunette. Wynn had written back saying they would scour the breadth of England until he found his brother the perfect wife with a postscript not to discount blondes.
“Svetlana will make a grand duchess. She was born for it.” He swallowed against the tide of emotion threatening to take him under. “One of us had to be.”
“Aw, Wynn. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“That’s because the second son never had to. Not when it comes to running an estate. I’m not a title; I’m a surgeon. I’ve put my entire life into medicine. It’s the only thing I want to do.”
“Who says you can’t?”
“It’s not the way it’s done. Lords of the manor are expected to be just that and nothing more. Overseeing property, collecting rent from the tenants, heading up charities. A lifetime of servitude to duty.” The knowledge of what awaited him at Kilbride extended its shackling weight day by day. By the time he reached his beloved shores of Scotland, would he be able to lift his feet, or would the weight drown him? “If anything good could come of this war, I hope it’s a break in the chains of tradition where men are allowed to carve out their own paths instead of adhering to those laid for them. If a clergyman’s son like you has the right to become a renowned physician, why not a duke?”
Gerard blushed to the roots of his hair. Too many in their profession looked down on him because of his humble roots, but Wynn saw that it kept him grounded and pushed him to work harder than all those who lived life on a silver platter.
“Careful with that talk or they’ll have you pinned as a zealot. Next thing you’ll be campaigning for women’s votes.”
“Women make up half of the world’s population. They should have a voice in how it spins.”
“Come off that talk. Bad enough the entire medical board is buzzing like hornets about your cardiological theories.”
“The heart must be made into its own specialized study if we ever want to achieve proper understanding of its anatomy and physiology for the betterment of treatment.”
Gerard threw up his hands in surrender. “No need to lecture me. I was there when you set them all off.”
“Not all. Dr. Lehr has been sending me case studies of undiagnosed pulmonary—”
“I know. The folders have toppled onto my desk now. Including that request for an interview from the
Wynn nodded. “He’s back in London now. I wrote and asked if he would like to be part of the interview with me. It could offer a unique and often overlooked view from the patient that’s imperative for surgeons to understand.”
The ward door opened, and one of the junior doctors fresh from school stuck his head in. The new ones were easy to spot. Their noses twitched the air like mice stepping outside for the first time in six years. He scurried over and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Dr. MacCallan, those X-rays are ready for you to view.” They were also sent on errands that senior doctors shrugged off to the nurses, like conveying messages between the floors.
“Coming,” Wynn said. The young doctor scurried off and Wynn turned to leave. A dripping red star flashed in his head. “Sure you don’t mind me bunking in with bachelors again? That townhouse is too big for me, and I’m hardly there enough to justify keeping it open.” Open where ghosts were left to roam and strange men prowled in the shadows. Neither would he mention to Gerard. His friend had the heart of a lion, but it was an unnecessary burden to put on him. If there was trouble, Wynn could handle it without endangering his friend.
“Sure. I saved your bed for you. It’ll be like old times.”
Wynn offered a smile, but it soured in his stomach.
Chapter 18
January 1919
Thornhill Castle
Glentyre, Scotland