Perhaps his experience had been a little more like Nell’s than she’d thought. ‘It must have been a bit of a culture shock for you.’
He laid down his fork. ‘People are people. That’s what every doctor learns, isn’t it?’ He said the words as if he was explaining a simple concept that Nell had somehow failed to understand.
‘Yes, of course. But some people find things easier than others.’ Waiting lists. Doctors who had enough time to see to the physical needs of their patients but not always the opportunity to talk for as long as was needed... The list could go on.
‘You met Justine and Henri earlier today. What did you think, that they were a couple of privileged people who like a nice lunch?’
‘They...’ Yes, that was exactly what Nell had thought. ‘They were very generous.’
‘Yes, they always are. They lost their son to heart disease when he was only two years old. Justine became very depressed and it was years before she would even talk about him. Holding a lunch event is a massive step for her. It’s not all about the money. Yvette lost her father to heart disease when she was fifteen.’
Nell felt herself flush. ‘I’m sorry. I did think less of what they were doing because they’re rich, and that was wrong of me.’
Hugo shook his head. ‘You’re not entirely wrong. A lot of the people who were at the lunch today were there because they wanted to be seen in the right places. But many of them have a real and personal commitment to what we’re trying to do.’
‘The little girl in the leaflet. She’s really a heart patient?’ Nell had had her doubts, wondering if the leaflet was principally an exercise in PR. It was important now, to know whether she’d been wrong.
‘Yes, she is. One of my patients, in fact. She had her ninth operation a few days ago. She wanted to help me build her new clinic.’
Nell laughed. ‘Her new clinic.’
‘Yes, it’s hers. She might let a few other patients in if she likes them. No boys. And she wants it to be completely pink, like a giant marshmallow.’ He was smiling now.
‘Sounds like my kind of hospital.’
‘So what are you doing here?’ He asked the question quietly. ‘You don’t strike me as the kind of person whose ambitions lie in the direction of keeping errant princes in check.’
Hugo had a way of dropping the charm and cutting right to the chase. It was uncomfortable. ‘I’m...in between jobs at the moment.’
‘I saw your curriculum vitae. Someone with your talents isn’t usually in between jobs unless she wants to be.’
He’d seen what the employment agency hadn’t, and there was no explaining it away with clichés. Nell wanted to tell him the whole truth, but that probably wouldn’t be all that wise.
‘My last job was challenging, both professionally and personally. I want to spend six months looking around for another that will...’
‘Just be challenging professionally?’
Nell caught her breath. How did he know so much about human nature, when he seemed so protected from it? ‘Something like that.’
‘So you thought that one patient might be a bit of a holiday.’ He was taking her apart, piece by piece, and Nell felt powerless to stop him. ‘But I imagine you’re someone who gets a little bored on holiday.’
She could feel her cheeks heating up. She wasn’t going to give Hugo the satisfaction of admitting that he was absolutely right. He held her gaze for a moment longer, and then leaned slowly back in his chair. Maybe he’d already seen what he wanted to see, and her reply was unnecessary.
‘Then maybe I should consider diversionary tactics. To keep you from feeling that you’re wasting your time here.’
He reached for the bottle of water on the table, and Nell took it from him. ‘How can I be wasting my time when there are bottles to be opened?’
If he could hide his innermost feelings under a layer of charm, then so could she.
THE SUMMONS HAD arrived first thing the following morning, and Nell had followed the messenger to the King’s study. Despite the early hour, he was already working at his desk. He had offered her a cup of coffee and then pushed the morning paper towards her.
The King hadn’t expressed the horror that Nell had felt when she’d looked at the pictures on the front page. It was just one of those things, an innocent action could be misinterpreted under the glare of scrutiny that the royal family were subjected to. But he had taken issue with a number of other things.
Nell had felt her heart close. Unable to look at him, she’d given no reason as to why she and Hugo had been seen at the back entrance to the palace at one in the morning. How could she? She’d promised to keep silent about the business with Jacob and Celeste until Hugo had had a chance to approach his father.
The King moved on to why exactly she’d been seen bidding for Hugo’s company at the auction yesterday. This time Nell did have an answer, even if it wasn’t a very good one.
‘It was my idea. I thought that...well, it’s too much for him to be hosting a weekend like that so soon after the operation. And Hugo wouldn’t back out.’
‘And you didn’t consider how it might look?’ The King’s tone wasn’t unkind, but it was very firm. He tapped the paper with one finger. ‘My real concern though, is that it’s clear to me that this photograph does not show an embrace, as the papers seem to believe, it shows Hugo leaning on you. Your one responsibility was to ensure that he didn’t take on too much, and damage his health.’
Nell nodded her assent, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. How could she object to the King’s request that she submit a written account of Hugo’s activities and medical condition every day, when she had already failed so spectacularly? And how could she complain when he hinted that unless things changed, he would be finding another doctor for Hugo.
She was trembling by the time the King dismissed her. Hurrying back to her apartment, Nell blinked back the tears. They were her own business, fit only to be seen by the four walls of her sumptuous bedroom.
Nell sat down on the bed, gulping for breath. She was just being stupid. The King had every right to ask questions, and if he’d been unfair, it was because he didn’t know about Jacob’s visit to Hugo’s apartment, and Nell hadn’t enlightened him. This wasn’t a re-run of all that had happened in her last job.
All the same, it had a similar sting to it. Nell had rejected Martin’s advances, and he’d taken advantage of his position as her boss to deliver payback. She’d come to dread seeing him on the ward, because there had always been some barb or put-down. And she’d learned to sit in silence when he’d called her to his office, because replying to his catalogue of her faults and flaws had only made things worse. She’d thought his anger might subside over time, but if there was one thing that Martin knew how to do, it was hang on to a grudge.
This
