Nick noticed the change in his wife when, for the second time in Greenwich, they came across Professor White. Perhaps he was just not the kind of people she liked, although Nick failed to find any fault in the way the professor had treated Claire so far. Nevertheless, Professor White would not be something that he would argue with her about, especially not after they started the day so very well. When she suggested to move along, Nick just nodded and bid his old friend good bye and boarded the ferry. The rest of their journey back home was quieter than he expected it to be, with Claire feeling seasick and all.

The rented carriage pulled up to the estate at almost lunch time. Unlike the day before, it was cloudy and the air smelled of the coming rain. Nick watched the reflection of branches of the trees on the pond as they swayed with the gentle breeze. Gray clouds were reflected there too, sailing the sky. It was a good thing they were back before the clouds wept.

The butler and a couple of maids greeted the couple when the carriage stopped. He went ahead of Claire, holding up his hand to assist her down. [i] “Would you like me to leave you be with the doctor when we get inside? I have plenty to keep me busy with the ball this weekend. Or perhaps I can call for your father, if you’d like to speak with him?”[/i] she asked as soon as they were out.

Nick frowned, but his eyes were teasing. “You sound like you are in a hurry be get rid of me,” he said aloud, then leaning close so only she could hear, he whispered, “With the way you’ve been acting the whole morning, I am worried that I didn’t meet your expectations last night. Tell me honestly, did I not?” But there was a playful smile on his face when he looked ahead of them and placed his hand to the small of her back, guiding her inside. 

“Robert, will you send a note to Doctor McQuerin? An apology, actually. I shall –“
 
“No need to bother, Mr. Rochford,” said the voice which was definitely the doctor’s. They were at the foyer then and he was walking from the sitting room on the first floor. He was sharply dressed as always, in black, except for his shirt and gray cravat. His hair, still black, though there were occasional grays, was carefully combed away from his face. By the way he was looking at Nick, the younger man guessed that he made the doctor wait long enough.

“Dr. McQuerin arrived early this morning for your appointment, after you missed yesterday’s,” supplied Robert, who was standing to his right. Nicholas didn’t need to hear it, and Francis McQuerin definitely didn’t need a reminder. “Your cousin also dropped by to check whether you have come home,” the butler added.

The doctor either did not to hear the other highlight of the morning, or that he had nothing to comment to it. He walked in quick, long strides towards them. Nick cleared his throat and said to Claire, “Perhaps it is a good idea to leave me with Dr. McQuerin, Claire. I shall see you in the dining area for lunch.” He patted her hand on his arm. 

“My apologies, Mrs. Rochford, but I need to borrow your husband for a while, for his own good.” Then Dr. McQuerin turned his charming smile to Nick. “Nicholas, if you will please follow me to your room.”

*****

Later Nick found out that the wound needed to be closed again, and then violently disagreed when Dr. McQuerin suggested it to be cauterized to prevent future bleeding because of Nick’s foolishness. He also found out how harshly the doctor speaks. It might be because of his military background, but Nick sensed that the doctor just didn’t like stubborn patients. 

“Have you spoken with my father as of late?” Nick asked after he was neatly bandaged and was leaning against the pillows.

The doctor, who was washing blood off his hands on a washbasin, looked over his shoulder at Nicholas. “No, I have not. The last we saw each other was when he called for me to tend to you on the night of your wedding day.”

Nick nodded and looked away. The doctor was not involved in their operation. Friend or not, he doubted Mr. Bennett would carelessly share information with this man. He might know that they were up to something, but he was not that well versed as to what it was. As if reading his thoughts, Dr. McQuerin said, “Even if we have had the chance to talk, your father will not be discussing business matters with me, you understand?”

“I know.” He reached for a fresh shirt, which was hanging at the back of a chair. 

The doctor turned around and regarded her with one of those looks that made him feel like a boy again. “What are you doing?”

Nick shrugged and tugged on the shirt until it was free. “I am meeting Claire in the dining hall for lunch,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone. 

McQuerin shook his head and sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid you are not, Mr. Rochford,” he said. “How soon do you want to be back in the field?”

He knew where the conversation was leading to, but Nick answered, “As soon as possible, of course. Not a day later than necessary.”

“Then you shall stay on that bed until I tell you it is safe to walk around. I shall order your lunch to be served here instead.”