From Doctor to Princess?

by Annie Claydon

  ‘The ambassador outlined them, yes.’ She pressed her lips together and Hugo imagined that the British Ambassador had deployed all of the expected diplomacy in the matter. ‘The King’s letter of appointment, on the other hand, was a little less circumspect.’

  Great. So his father had decided that he needed to weigh in on that as well. And even if the tiny quiver at the side of Nell’s mouth told Hugo that she was feeling over-awed and nervous, her cool gaze indicated that she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing her job.

  ‘Perhaps we should talk, over some tea.’ Since deflection wasn’t working, maybe negotiation would. The next step would be outright battle, and Hugo would prefer to avoid that.

  ‘Yes. I think that would be a very good idea.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  HUGO HAD OPENED the door that concealed the lift, and when she’d seen the old-fashioned gates, she’d slipped in front of him, heaving them to one side. Part of him was grateful, but a greater part decreed that as a gentleman, and her host, he should have been quicker in insisting he open the gates himself. When he motioned her ahead of him into the lift, she hovered annoyingly next to the gates, giving him no opportunity to open them when they reached the third floor.

  He showed her to her apartment, leaving her alone to freshen up. That would give him at least three quarters of an hour to rest before he had to submit to another onslaught from her.

  Hugo sank gratefully into the chair in his private sitting room and closed his eyes. This morning he had woken feeling invigorated, and it had only been the pain in his shoulder that had reminded him he was unable to move mountains. Wide awake, his body feeling the immediate benefit of a heart that was now paced and doing its job properly, he’d jumped at the chance of getting out of the constriction of four walls, but it had worn him out. His own advice to pacemaker patients—that they might start to feel better almost immediately but must rest and get over the operation first—would be given with a lot more certainty in the future.

  Fifteen minutes later, a quiet knock sounded on the main door to the apartment and he shouted to whoever it was to come in, keeping his eyes closed. If someone was here to make the tea or fuss over him, then he’d rather they waited until he was strong enough to smilingly refuse their help.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Nell’s voice made his eyes snap open.

  ‘Fine. Thank you.’ Hugo’s eye’s darted to the clock above the mantelpiece. Surely he hadn’t been asleep...

  Apparently not. She was pink-cheeked, as if she’d just got out of the shower, and Nell had changed out of her travelling clothes and into a slim pair of dark blue trousers with a white shirt, open at the neck and buttoned at the cuffs. She looked businesslike and entirely delicious.

  He shifted, wishing that the ache in his left shoulder would go away, and Nell stepped forward. Without any warning at all, she caught up one of the cushions from the sofa and bent over him.

  Her scent was... It was just soap. The soap that was placed in all the guest bathrooms at the palace. But Nell made it smell intoxicating. The brush of her hair, one soft curl against his cheek, almost paralysed him.

  ‘Is that a little better?’ She’d placed the cushion carefully under his left arm so that it supported his shoulder.

  ‘Yes. A lot better, thank you.’

  Nell nodded, looking around the room as if she’d mislaid something. ‘Does your apartment have a kitchen? Or do you have to send out for tea?’

  ‘The kitchen’s through there.’ The desire to stay where he was battled with a strong disinclination to have her make tea for him. Hugo shifted, ready for the effort of standing up, and she reached forward, her hand on his right shoulder.

  ‘I didn’t go to all the trouble of arranging cushions for you to spoil it all by making the tea. Stay there.’ Her voice was kindly but firm. It occurred to Hugo that if he didn’t feel so tired he might have delighted in having Nell be kind and firm with him all afternoon, and then he reminded himself that business and pleasure was a very bad mix.

  He heard her clattering around in the kitchen and closed his eyes. Listening to Nell was almost as good as watching her, because he could still see her in his mind’s eye. That was another thing that was going to have to stop.

  * * *

  Nell found a set of mugs in the kitchen cupboard. It was a surprise, since she’d expected that a prince would drink only out of bone china, but a good one. She’d been up very early this morning and could definitely do with a decent-sized cup of tea.

  She looked in the cupboard for biscuits and found a packet of chocolate digestives. Things were definitely looking up. Next to them was a packet of painkillers, wrapped around with a piece of paper with a typed chart, each dose ticked off neatly. Hugo had taken this morning’s tablets but was past due for the lunchtime ones.

  He was clearly overdoing things. And her letter of appointment had spelled out exactly what she was supposed to do in response to that likely eventuality. She had to make sure that he took the rest he needed.

  She put the tea things on a tray and walked quietly into the sitting room. Large and filled with light, the furniture was stylish but comfortable, allowing the baroque fireplace and the gilded mirror above it to take precedence. Hugo seemed to be dozing, but when she put the tray down, moving a small side table next to his chair, he opened his eyes.

  ‘This is...quite unnecessary.’ He seemed quite devoted to the idea that there was nothing wrong with him.

  ‘And these?’ She raised an eyebrow, putting a glass of water and his tablets down next to him. ‘Pain’s generally the body’s way of hinting that you should slow down a bit.’

  ‘I thought I’d take them when I got back.’ He seemed to be watching her every move as he downed the tablets in one, then took some sips of water. ‘Please. Sit down. We really must talk.’

  It was almost a relief. It seemed that Hugo wanted to make their relationship clear as much as she did, and it was a grey area that Nell was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with. She put his tea on the table next to him and sat down on the sofa, reaching for her cup.

  ‘The first thing I need to say is that your job here is strictly confidential.’ Nell took a breath to protest that she knew all about doctor-patient confidentiality and he silenced her with a flash of his green eyes. ‘More so than usual. I don’t want anyone to know what your role is here or that I’m your patient.’

  Nell felt her heart beat a little faster. ‘Is there a reason for that?’

  ‘Yes, there is. A very good reason.’

  ‘I’d like to know what that reason is, please.’ She injected as much firmness into her voice as she could.

  Hugo smiled suddenly. If he was unused to anyone questioning his decisions, it didn’t seem to bother him all that much. ‘I imagine you’ve done your homework and that you know I’ve been working very hard in the last few years to raise awareness about heart disease and promote early treatment.’

  ‘I know that you’re the patron of a charity that has done a lot of work in the field...’ How much work Hugo had personally done hadn’t been made clear in the article she’d read.

  For a moment, it seemed that finally she’d managed to offend him. And then he smiled. ‘I’m a doctor and it’s my mission. You have a mission?’

  ‘Yes. I suppose I do.’

  ‘Then you’ll understand the compelling nature of it. Weakness on my part can only undermine the message I’m trying to give.’

  Nell swallowed hard, trying to clear the rapidly growing lump in her throat. ‘Or...it might be seen as a strength. That you understand...’

  ‘My job is to make things happen. And I’ll freely admit that I’m a prime example of someone who hasn’t followed the most basic advice and sought help at the first signs of any problem with my heart. Which is inexcusable, since I have a very clear understanding of what those signs are.’r />
  So he couldn’t allow himself this. In Hugo’s mind, his illness gave him feet of clay. Nell might disagree, but it was his decision.

  ‘What you choose to share about your own medical issues is entirely up to you. Of course, I’ll say nothing.’

  He nodded. ‘Thank you. I see from your CV that you’ve taken an interest in the psychological aspects of recovery from heart disease.’

  Something about his tone gave Nell the impression that this irritated him. ‘Yes, that’s right. I did a module on the psychology of recovery at medical school, and when I decided to specialise in cardiac medicine, it seemed very relevant. I co-authored a study on patients’ post-operative experiences, in partnership with doctors from five other hospitals.’

  ‘I’d be interested in reading it.’ He turned the corners of his mouth down, and Nell felt her muscles in her stomach twist. Maybe he’d decided that questioning whether he needed a doctor wasn’t enough, and that he’d take a leaf from her ex-boss’s book and undermine her by questioning her professional ability.

  She stared at him, wordlessly, and Hugo smiled suddenly. ‘I’d be interested to know which category of patient I fall into.’

  That charm again. That smile, which seemed calculated to make Nell’s head spin and throw her off guard. ‘Psychology isn’t a matter of putting people into boxes, it’s a way of understanding what’s there. I’m sure you know that already.’

  Perhaps she should mention that understanding exactly why Hugo was so desperate to pretend that there was nothing wrong with him would be a good start in getting him on the road to recovery. Or maybe she should wait until Hugo was ready to voice that idea for himself, even if scraping through the layers of charm and getting him to admit to anything seemed likely to be a long process.

  ‘Yes, I do. And please forgive me if my welcome has fallen short of expectations. Your presence here wasn’t my choice, it’s my father who thinks I need a minder.’

  Nell swallowed down the temptation to take the bait. ‘I’m a doctor. If my duty of care to you, as my patient, makes me seem like a minder then...’ She shrugged.

  Hugo leaned forward, the cushion at his side slipping to the floor. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and say it? I can take it.’

  If he thought that she couldn’t look into his green eyes and say exactly what she meant, he was going to find out differently. Nell met his gaze and felt shivers run down her spine. Okay, so it was difficult to do. But not impossible.

  ‘If you think that I’m here to be your minder, then that says a lot more about your approach to this than it does mine.’

  ‘I suppose it does. But I want to make one thing clear. Duty to my father and professional courtesy to you require that I listen to your advice. But I have specific goals, in connection with a project at the hospital, that need to be met over the next six weeks. I won’t allow anything to get in the way of that.’

  ‘Even at the cost of your own health?’

  ‘I can handle it.’

  The battle lines had been drawn, and in the heat of his gaze it felt almost exhilarating. Then Nell came to her senses.

  In the last three weeks, Hugo had faced a crisis. If that appeared to have had no effect on him, then maybe that just meant he was more adept at covering his emotions than most. He was hurting and unable to trust his own body any more, and if his reaction to that was stubborn failure to face facts, it was her job to get him to a place where he felt strong enough to admit how he felt.

  His smouldering green eyes were suddenly too much for her to bear, and she looked away. ‘Compromising on the way you get there doesn’t necessarily mean you have to abandon your goals. Let me help you.’

  He thought for a moment. ‘What kind of compromise did you have in mind?’

  Nell took a deep breath. This might be the first of many hurdles, but she’d made a start. ‘I don’t know yet. I’ll need to examine you first and hear exactly what your commitments are. Then we can talk about it.’

  ‘All right.’ He smiled suddenly, as if he’d just remembered that he ought to do so. ‘I’ll make an effort to be a model patient.’

  Somehow Nell doubted that. ‘I appreciate the thought. But you’ve a long way to go before you qualify for the title of my most awkward patient.’

  This time Hugo really smiled. ‘Shame. I’ll have to try harder.’

  ‘Yes, you will.’ Nell rose from her seat, picking the cushion up from the floor and putting it back in place, behind his shoulder. ‘You can plan your strategy while I go and get my medical bag.’

  Maybe his father knew him better than Hugo had thought. His doctor at the hospital had been highly qualified, deferential, and had treated the whole thing as if it were an afternoon at a health spa. Nell was something different. Honest, no-nonsense and quite capable of cutting him down to size when he tried all the usual diversionary tactics.

  Dr Penelope. He didn’t dare call her that, she’d told him she preferred Nell. Which was charming in its own way but didn’t seem to sum her up quite so well. Fierce, beautiful and unstoppable.

  It was a little easier to think when she was out of the room. A little easier to remind himself of the flat in London, right at the top of a tenement block, where the lift sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t.

  A little pang of regret for times that had seemed altogether simpler. The sofa that had creaked slightly under the weight of two people too tired to move and yet happy to just be together. The awful green bedspread that Anna had chosen, and which hadn’t matched the curtains but which Hugo had liked because she had. It had been the one time in Hugo’s life when duty hadn’t weighed heavy on his shoulders. All he’d needed to do was work hard at medical school and love the woman who shared his life.

  He’d brought Anna back to Montarino, two newly minted doctors, full of so many possibilities and dreams. The ring on her finger had been replaced by something more befitting a princess, but Anna had always preferred the old one, which Hugo had saved for out of his allowance. It wasn’t until she’d left that Hugo had stopped to think that maybe she had been unhappy at the palace.

  And that had been his doing. Anna had trained to be a doctor, not a princess. She had fitted the bill well enough, but it hadn’t been her mission in life. Hugo had been too intent on pursuing his own mission to see that until it had been too late and Anna had been packing her bags, a ticket back to London with her name on it lying on the bed.

  ‘If you’d just looked, Hugo, you would have seen that this isn’t enough for me. I have a career, too.’

  There had been nothing that he could say because he had known in his heart that Anna was right. He’d let her go, and had watched from afar as she’d risen to the top of her chosen field, like a cork held underwater for too long and bouncing to the surface of a fast-flowing stream. One that had taken her away from him, and had never brought her back again.

  Since then, Hugo had confined himself to women whose career aspirations were limited to being a princess. And if he hadn’t found anyone who truly understood him yet, then one of these days his duty would outweigh the yearning for love and he’d marry regardless. It had never made its way to the top of his to-do list, though, and it could wait.

  The sound of a chair being pushed across the carpet towards his broke his reverie. It seemed that the doctor was ready for him now.

  ‘Would you unbutton your shirt for me, please?’ Nell sat down opposite him, briskly reaching into a small nylon bag to retrieve a stethoscope.

  Suddenly he felt slightly dizzy. At the hospital, he’d submitted to one examination after the other, distancing himself from the doctors and nurses who quietly did their jobs while he thought about something else. But Nell was different. She challenged him, demanding that he take notice of what was happening to him.

  ‘My notes are...somewhere...’ He looked around, trying to remember where he’d left the envelope.
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  ‘I have them. They were emailed through to me yesterday. I’d like to check on how you are now.’

  Whether he’d managed to throw any spanners in the works. Her meaning shone clear in her light brown eyes, almost amber in the sunshine that streamed through the high windows.

  He looked away from her gaze. Hugo had no qualms about his body, he knew that it was as good as the next man’s and that he didn’t have to think twice before he allowed anyone to see it. But things were different now. The new, unhealed scar felt like overwhelming evidence of his greatest weakness.

  Nell sat motionless opposite him, clearly willing to wait him out if need be. He reached for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers suddenly clumsy.

  * * *

  Hugo was finding this hard. Nell pretended not to notice, twisting at the earpieces of her stethoscope as if she’d just found something wrong with them. The very fact that he seemed about to baulk at the idea of a simple examination told her that Hugo wasn’t as confident about his recovery as he liked to make out.

  That was okay. Nell would have been more comfortable if she could maintain a degree of professional detachment too, but that wasn’t going to work. The main thing at the moment was to maintain their tenuous connection, because if that was lost then so was their way forward.

  ‘What about official engagements?’ She’d pretty much exhausted all the things that might be wrong with her stethoscope, and perhaps talking would put him at ease.

  ‘My father’s beaten you to it. He’s taken care of all my official engagements for the next month. There are various members of the family stepping in.’

  ‘I’ll have to be quicker off the mark next time,’ Nell commented lightly, trying not to notice that he was slipping his shirt off, revealing tanned skin and a mouth-wateringly impressive pair of shoulders. She concentrated on the dressing on Hugo’s chest, peeling it back carefully.

  ‘There’s still the hospital project.’ He shot her a grin and Nell felt her hands shake slightly. Being this close to Hugo added a whole new catalogue of ways in which he made her feel uneasy. The scent of his skin. The way she wanted to touch him...