A Man To Tame - Rachel Lindsay (Roberta Leigh) (3 page)

'I hate the phrase lady doctor!'
she stormed angrily. ‘Sexual gender doesn't come into it.'

'Not in an idyllic situation
perhaps, but then situations are rarely as we would like them to be.' He leaned
further back in his chair, tilting it slightly, his broad shoulders almost
obliterating the back of it 'Come, Dr Gibson', I will recompense you for your
time and I suggest you catch the next train back to London.'

‘You can't get rid of me as easily
as that.'

In the act of leaning forward to
pick up his fountain pen, he remained motionless, as
if not sure he had heard correctly.

'I think I have misunderstood you,’
he said in a quiet deep voice.

‘No, you haven't, Mr Howard. I said I have no intention of returning to
London. I've signed a contract with you and I'm going to fulfil
it.'

Again his hand came up to stroke
his cheek and heavy lids lowered to hide his eyes. Without the piercing brown
glance his face became a grave mask, and the strength of his features was more
apparent. There was a slight bump visible in his nose—as if it had been broken
in a fight—and a similarly uneven look to his mouth, one side of it quirking up
more than the other, though this might have been caused by his strong white
teeth which were nibbling away at his lower lip.

'I take your point, Dr Gibson,' he
said suddenly, and reached for his pen. 'I will write you out a cheque for the full amount—nine months.' '

He began to do so and she watched
his gold pen making firm lines across a printed pink cheque.

That isn't what I want at all,' she
said loudly. '

Then what do you want?'

The chance to
complete what I've come here to do.’

'I've already told you that it's
out of the question.'

'I think you're wrong. When was the
last time you employed a woman doctor here?'

‘We have never done so.'

Then how do you know the men
wouldn't accept me?'

‘Because I——-' With an angry
gesture he pushed back his chair and rose, looming large in front of her and
looking even larger because of the daylight streaming in from the window behind
him. ‘We have never employed a woman doctor here because the men have always
made it plain they wouldn't accept one. I agree with you that they're
prejudiced and old-fashioned, but there is nothing I can do about it.'

'Of course there is!' she cried. ‘You
can let me
stay
here.'

That’s out of the question,' he
said firmly. 'I know it's a blow to your pride, but——-'

'Pride has nothing to do with it.
It's an insult to my ability as a doctor.'

'It has nothing to do with your
ability as a doctor. I wish to terminate our agreement because you are a woman!'

Anger flooded through her, so
intense that she shook with it. Then you'll have to stand up in court and say
so!
^’

'I beg your pardon?’ Both of his eyebrows
rose this time.

‘You may well have to beg my
pardon,' she retorted. ‘You will probably have to give me a public apology
too.'

'Are you saying you will take
action against me if I —-don't let you stay here?'

‘Yes, Mr
Howard.'

Silently he turned back to his
chair and sat down. Kate forced herself to meet his gaze and though she was
still trembling inwardly from temper she remained defiant in front of him.

I’m sorry you've taken this so
personally,' he said in a voice far more gentle than she had heard since she
had come into the room. 'I suggest we talk about it over lunch. You've had a
long journey and I'm sure you are tired and hungry.'

'I am tired and angry, Mr Howard, and in no mood for a social lunch.'

‘Nonetheless a meal will do you
good.'

The smile he gave her was wide and
deliberate and she knew he was consciously using his charm. She had half a mind
to tell him he was wasting his time, but decided it might be better to let him
think he was going to get away with his ridiculous suggestion that she return
to London.

Deliberately she echoed his smile. ‘Very
well, Mr Howard, I will accept your invitation to
lunch.'

He pressed a buzzer on his desk. 'I
have a guest to lunch, Mrs Prichard. It will be in
the private dining room.' He looked across at Kate. 'If you would care to have
a wash, Mrs Prichard will show you where to go.'

Kate nodded without smiling and
went out of his office. She was already sorry for her flare of temper and,
instead of trembling with anger, was bow trembling with fatigue, as she
frequently did ia the past
three months whenever she found herself under stress. What a mix-up this whole
thing was I Had Peter deliberately omitted to tell Mr
Howard she was a woman in the hope that once she was here he would forget his
antipathy? If this were so, then Peter did not know Joshua Howard as well as he
had purported, for even on a few moments' acquaintance she did not see him as a
man who could lightly be talked out of any opinion he held.

In the ladies' cloakroom she washed
her face and applied fresh make-up, more heavy-handed with the lipstick in an
effort to bolster up her flagging spirits. Her head was aching slightly and she
took off her hat and' gently massaged her scalp. The gesture made her remember
the fire and the pieces of masonry that had fallen on her as she had struggled
out of the blazing building for the third time, -carrying a baby. Unfortunately
it had been a wasted effort on her part, for the child was already dead,
suffocated by the smoke. She shivered and, in the act of putting back her hat,
took it off again and carefully combed her hair. She had washed it last night
and it curled round her face, the ends slightly fairer than the rest. Anger had
left her paler than usual and her eyes looked twice as large in her small pointed
face. She knew her eyes were her best feature, not only because of their size
but because of their unusual colour: smoky grey with
a slightly darker edge round the iris, and thick curling eyelashes, doubly
surprising when one considered how baby-fine her hair was.

Behind her the door opened and Mrs Prichard stood on the threshold. 'Mr
Howard is ready for you, Dr Gibson.'

I’m ready for him too,' Kate said
grimly and, walking past the secretary, was aware of the slight smile on the
woman's face. ‘You know he doesn't want me to stay, don't you?' she said
jerkily.

'Yes.'

'Does he
always
get his own way ?'

'He has done until now.'

‘Until now?' Kate caught at the words and, looking into the calm Hue
eyes, felt they were telling her something. 'Maybe things will change from
today. Thank you, Mrs Pilchard.’

'Not at all,
Doctor.'

Feeling that she had made a friend,
Kate went back down the corridor to meet Joshua Howard.

CHAPTER THREE

Kate had never lunched in a
directors' dining room and she was faintly amused by so many blue-suited men
who all looked as though they had been cut from the same die-stamp. Drinks were
served and everyone stood around chatting idly until two buxom women in white
aprons set out a row of covered entree dishes on the long buffet table that
stood against one wall. Only then did Joshua Howard lead Kate into a small room
off the main one. Three sides of it were made of glass and one felt as if one
were on a ship's bridge.

'How unusual!' she exclaimed.

'It was built on as an
afterthought,' her host said. 'It's an ideal place to bring someone if I want
to lunch with them privately.'

'I should imagine your directors
fight for an invitation to be asked in here.'

He nodded, then
gave her an oblique glance as he held out her chair. 'I take it you don't
object to a little courtesy like this? Or does the emancipated female insist on
total equality?' ‘

She refused to rise to the bait and
took her place in silence. He sat opposite her and, as if he had given a
signal, one of the women came in to serve them. The food was simple but
excellent. Melon, steak or fish and a choice of several sweets, all washed down
by a light but refreshing wine of which Kate only accepted one glass.

‘You're very abstemious, Dr
Gibson,' Joshua Howard commented.

'A habit of my profession,' she
said.

‘Most of the doctors I know drink
quite heavily. They say they need it for relaxation.'

‘I understand you are a friend of
Peter's brother?'

'And Peter too,-though I haven't
seen either of them for nearly four months.'

'Do you go to London frequently?'

'I spend a day there on business
every week but I don't get much time to socialise.'

‘You don't have a Welsh accent,’
she commented, 'or a Welsh name.'

My mother was an Elsie Llewellyn,'
he smiled. ‘My father was Welsh too, but not as aggressively so.' He glanced
over his shoulder and following his gaze she saw the gentle Welsh hills in the
distance. 'I was born in Llanduff, Dr Gibson, in the
house where my father and grandfather were born.'

'And where your children have
obviously been born,’ she said.

'I only have a, daughter,’ he
replied abruptly.

She was annoyed for having spoken
and resolutely returned to the subject at issue.

'Let us talk about my staying here,
Mr Howard. That was the purpose of the lunch,’

'It was,’ he agreed, ‘but now I've
got to know you better I can't believe you would really make
an issue of staying here.'

'I most certainly would!'

The anger which she thought she had
controlled successfully had risen again. Halfway through lunch she had decided
it would be best to give in to his request, but in the face of his bland
assumption that she would do as he said, her hackles rose once more. How dared
he sit there like some massive godhead and tell her what to do?

'If you send me away, Mr Howard, you must be prepared for adverse publicity.
Several newspapers would be delighted to make a story of it,’

'Do you need publicity so badly, Dr
Gibson?'

‘Do you?' she countered.

‘It’s the last thing in the world I
want’

His answer surprised her, for, if
it were true,
she
would have expected him to hide the fact.

‘I am being honest, Dr Gibson,’ he
said with a shrug. ‘Publicity is the last thing I want at this particular
moment. We have just signed a big contract with an American company and my
competitors would like to put it in jeopardy. Even the sort of publicity that a
case like yours would arouse might be just what they need to start trouble here.’

‘How?’ she asked curiously.

‘By using it to
try and create dissidence among the men.'

She looked at him with a mixture of
antipathy and admiration. ‘Your honesty with me is a clever tactic. You're
hoping to persuade me to take pity on you.’

'I never expect pity from any
woman, Dr Gibson, but I would have thought you capable of having some
understanding.’

She flushed but stood her ground.
Then it seems to me you have no option but to let me take up my post here. I
know if's against your better judgment, but perhaps you are
not infallible,’

'Don't count on that,’ he said
suavely, and reached over to pour the coffee which the waitress had left on a
tray between them. He handled the small cups with ease, his hands looking
immeasurably large as he picked Up a small spoon and
helped himself to sugar.

'You give me no option but to bow
to your ultimatum, Dr Gibson, though I warn you I will be watching for you to
make one wrong step,’

'And then you will dismiss me?'

'So fast it will make your head
spin!'

‘Forewarned is forearmed,’ She
spoke lightly but knew he meant his threat. She would have to watch her step.
One complaint from a patient would be all he required to be rid of her. She
drained her coffee, wondering if it was her bitter dislike of Mm that made it
taste bitter, and set the cup down.

‘Now we have agreed that I remain
here, Mr Howard, perhaps you will arrange for someone
to show me to my quarters?'

Wouldn't you like to see the
surgery first?'

That was what I meant,' she said in
surprise.

I’m sorry. When you said your
quarters I thought, you were referring to where you will be living.'

'I assume I'll be in lodgings.'

A look of irritation crossed Joshua
Howard's face. 'Don't you read your correspondence, Dr Gibson?'

She hesitated, unwilling to tell
him that since the fire she had found it almost impossible to deal with any
paperwork. It was as much as she could do to get through the correspondence
relating to her patients and it was the fear that she might, one day, miss
something important that had been one of her reasons for agreeing to Peter's
suggestion that she took a less arduous job until she had recovered her mental
stamina.

‘You will have about eight hundred
men to care for,’ Peter had said, 'and a nurse to assist you. I doubt if you'll
get more than a couple of dozen calls a day.'

'Mr
Howard seems to be paying a high price for very little,' she had commented.

‘Don't tell him that until your job
is over!' Peter had said, and laughingly she had agreed with him.

Yet even the thought of only coping
with a few dozen sack people was frightening. In the group practice there had
always been the other doctors to fall back on when she had felt too ill or nervous
to work. But here she was entirely alone. Had Peter realised
this when he had suggested she come here? Her spoon rattled in her Saucer and
she looked at it, surprised to see she was holding it and her fingers were
trembling. She set it down and put her hands in her lap. Joshua Howard was
still looking at her and she knew he was waiting for her to answer his
question. Yet to tell him she knew nothing about this job other than the
strictly medical work she was expected to do—would require her to explain why
she had come here in the first place. Seeing his hard glance she knew such an
explanation was impossible. So physical a man as Joshua Howard would only be
likely to understand physical illness. The suffering that mental anguish could cause
would be quite outside his appreciation.