Posh Doc Claims His Bride

The next hour passed swiftly as Cameron quizzed Meagan on her experience. She knew that there was little he could find to criticise, except perhaps her limited experience as a general practitioner. She hadn’t actually worked as a GP since she’d completed her general practice training. The end of her training had coincided with Charlie’s death, and once she had emerged from her haze of grief she had gone overseas. While her experience there had shown her she could cope with most things, working as a GP was bound to have its own challenges.

Colin leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied that the interview was drawing to a close.

‘The practice covers the whole of Uist, with a population of around two thousand, a large proportion of whom is elderly. We can handle most things but what we can’t handle comfortably we send to Stornoway, or for more specialist care to Glasgow. We’re very fortunate to have Cameron, who is a member of the Royal College of Paediatricians and who is happy to see most of the children,’ Colin informed Meagan.

Meagan looked over at Cameron in surprise. What was a qualified paediatrician doing in rural practice? she wondered. But something in his expression warned her not to pursue the matter.

‘We do our own on-call rota and I’m afraid that’s one in two at the moment,’ Colin went on ‘You’ll have every second night and weekend on and every second one off. Do you feel you can cope?’

‘That’s fine. I’m used to working hard. I prefer to keep busy,’ Meagan said. It was the truth. Working so hard that she had no time for thinking had been what had saved her sanity.

Colin looked satisfied. ‘Well, that’s sorted, then. Take tomorrow to settle in and then make a start the day after. Now let’s go and get some dinner, shall we? I’m sure you’re ready for it, Meagan, after your long journey. Peggy is looking forward to seeing you. Are you sure you won’t join us, Cameron? You know they’ll be plenty.’

‘No, thanks, Colin. I need to get home. But give my love to Peggy and both of you have a wonderful holiday. Don’t worry about us here. We’ll be fine. I’ll look in on you tomorrow at some point, Meagan. Perhaps show you around, if you like?’ Cameron said. He stood, stretching his lean frame.

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Meagan said politely.

‘Goodnight, then,’ he said leaving Meagan and Colin alone.

Meagan watched his departing back, before turning back to Colin.

‘Are you sure he wants me here?’ she said anxiously.

‘He wasn’t altogether keen,’ Colin admitted reluctantly. ‘Nothing personal, you understand. He just thought we should have asked someone a little more…well, settled. He knows I am looking to retire and that we need a replacement for me. He’s worried that a young single woman won’t stay and he’s also little worried you don’t have enough experience for the job.’

Meagan’s heart sank. Her day was going from bad to worse. On top of everything, it seemed that Cameron had opposed her appointment. Had it simply been her lack of experience or had he known who she was? He had shown no indication that he’d known she was the new locum when they had met on the road, and there was no reason for him to associate her married name, Dr Galbraith, with Meagan Davidson. And what about him? Was he married? She swallowed a sigh. If she had known that she would find Cameron here, would she still have come? She had taken the job because she had thought it would be a fresh start, and the last thing she needed were complications. And somehow she recognised with a shiver that working with Cameron was going to be a complication she could do without. Still, it was too late now. She was here. At least until Colin returned from his trip.

Colin must have noticed how dejected she felt because he added hastily, ‘I’m sure once he gets to know you he’ll recognise that you are the right person for the job and then you’ll get on famously. You have a lot in common. Until then, try not to worry. Cameron will see you come to no harm. You can trust him with your life.’

But, as Meagan followed Colin out of the surgery, she wasn’t altogether sure she could trust herself.

As Cameron drove home he was thinking about his new colleague. It had been a surprise when he had recognised the woman in the car. And an even bigger shock to find that she was the new locum. He had known her as Meagan Davidson, now she was Meagan Galbraith. She had married, then, but where was her husband? Were they separated? Divorced? Why had she come alone?

Even before he’d realised who the locum was, he’d had grave reservations about taking on someone with her level of experience. And it wasn’t just her relative lack of general practice experience that had worried him. She was clearly used to a more exciting life than the one she’d find here. Why had she come? And how did he feel about seeing her again?

Despite the lines of pain etched into the corners of her mouth—and he wondered what had caused them—she looked even younger than her 26 years. She had no idea of how vulnerable she appeared, especially, he thought amused, with the small smear of dirt on her brow that had escaped her cleaning efforts. Notwithstanding the odd blob of dirt, she looked more like a fashion icon from the city than a country doctor.

A practice like theirs couldn’t afford passengers. He had wanted to recruit someone older, more experienced, but there hadn’t been many applicants. Cameron had been carrying an increased share of the practice burden for the last year as Colin had relinquished more and more to his younger partner.

Cameron had known about Colin’s friendship with the new locum’s father and had been concerned that the friendship might have influenced the older doctor’s decision, but Colin had been adamant that Meagan was an exceptional junior doctor who had passed all her exams with distinction. So, despite his reservations, he had agreed to go along with his partner’s choice. And that choice had turned out to be more interesting than he could ever have suspected. Well, it was done now. He would just have to keep a close eye on Meagan and be there to offer support to her and the patients whenever possible. And as for the fact she still made his pulse race? That was just male libido, he told himself firmly, and the fact he had been too long without a woman. It was nothing whatsoever to do with eyes the colour of the sea after rain and a mouth made for kissing. Nothing whatsoever.

CHAPTER TWO

IT TOOK Meagan a couple of seconds to realise where she was when she woke up the next morning. It had been dark when Colin had dropped her off the night before and, exhausted, she had gone straight to bed. Despite her tiredness, she had lain awake, thinking about Cameron. Why had he never tried to get in touch with her? She had been so sure that he had felt the same way she had that night they had met. She had waited for him to contact her, but eventually anticipation had turned into disappointment with the realisation he was never going to. She had been badly mistaken about him and the kind of man he was. Now he was here and they’d be working together and, God, help her, he still made her feel week at the knees.

The day stretched before her to do as she pleased. Determined to make the most of it, she jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. Once she was dressed she would spend the day re-exploring the island and refamiliarising herself with her surroundings.

The cottage Colin had arranged for her was a renovated black house. Although it was tiny—with a small bedroom on one side and a kitchen/living room on the other and a bathroom in the middle—it was very cosy. There was just about enough room for her and her suitcases—if she was very organised. The sitting room had an open fire that Meagan surveyed with some trepidation. She hadn’t a clue how to go about setting and lighting a fire. Next to the fire, which had been set ready to light, was a basket of peat and some kindling. The same person had also left a basket of provisions, including, Meagan noted, coffee, milk, scones and even pancakes for her breakfast.

Meagan dressed warmly after her quick shower, surveying her appearance in the long mirror in the corner of her bedroom. She had pulled on her old but still stylish jeans, which she knew emphasised her long legs and slim figure. She straightened her hair until it fell to her shoulders in a sleek curtain and darkened her lashes with black mascara. That was all the make-up she normally wore, unless she was going out somewhere in the evening when she would add glossy red lipstick. To complete her outfit for walking the moors, she grabbed her green jacket in case the weather changed to rain, and pulled on her favourite leather boots.

Stepping out the front door, she gasped with surprise and pleasure. It had been dark when she had arrived the night before and she hadn’t been aware of how her new home was situated. She was delighted to see that the house had been built on a piece of land that projected into the sea, giving the impression that it was on its own small island. The day was glorious. Bright sunlight reflected on the water, which hugged the shore on three sides, turning it from deep blue to aquamarine where the waves lapped the shore. She listened to the sensuous sound of the waves gently washing over the rocks and a the feeling of peace wash over her.

The back of the house was sheltered from the wind by some rowan trees and had the best view. Meagan could imagine spending her evenings sitting outside, watching the wildlife as the sun went down. At the front was a rough drive leading up to the main road. A few sheep grazed, lazily turning disinterested eyes on Meagan before returning their attention to the grass. The place was perfect. Perhaps here she could at last really begin to put the past behind her.

Hearing a car’s engine, Meagan looked around and watched a battered Land Rover making its way down the track to the house. The car pulled up and a tall, elegant woman wearing faded jeans and wellingtons got out.

The woman eyed Meagan for a moment before extending a hand.

‘Hi, you must be Dr Galbraith,’ she said. ‘I’m Rachel—from Grimsay House.’ She indicated an imposing building on the top of the hill with a nod of her head.

She was one of the most beautiful women Meagan had ever seen. Long blonde hair hung to her shoulders, framing high cheekbones and sculpted lips. Violet eyes were accentuated with thick dark lashes that looked as if they owed nothing to mascara. Beside her, Meagan felt plain if not downright dowdy.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ Meagan took the proffered hand, aware of the briefest pressure before her hand was relinquished.

‘I’m sorry to impose on your day off but Jessie—the cook—her daughter’s not feeling well and she wanted Cameron to have a look at her. Unfortunately he’s tied up with another patient. He asked us to ring you instead, but I thought I may as well pop down in person and give you a lift. If you’re free, that is?’ Cool eyes regarded Meagan steadily. Meagan surmised that this was a woman who expected people to do as she asked.

‘I’d be happy to see her. If you could give me a moment, I’ll get my bag.’

Uninvited, Rachel followed her inside the house.

‘Its years since I was in here,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten how tiny it is. It used to be a staff cottage.’

‘I think its lovely,’ Meagan said, collecting her bag from the sitting room. ‘Absolutely perfect.’ Inexplicably Meagan felt defensive about her new home. ‘Shall we go?’

The journey took just a few minutes. There was only enough time for Rachel to point a few landmarks out to Meagan before they were at their destination.

As Rachel swung the Land Rover into the large gravel car park of Grimsay House, Meagan marvelled at the majestic building before her. To describe it as a house was rather like referring to Mount Vesuvius as a steaming kettle. Two elegant stone columns framed wide stone steps leading up to a beautiful oak door at the entrance. Honey-coloured stonework hinted at the imposing age of the building. Meagan noted gentle puffs of smoke emanating from the large gable chimneys at either end of the house, which was framed by a breathtaking tangle of trees, shrubs and wildflowers. Dragging her eyes away, Meagan gathered up her medical bag as she followed Rachel inside the house and into the flag-stoned entrance hall.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Meagan said, taking in the elegant furniture and ornate framed portraits that graced the walls.

‘I suppose,’ Rachel said dismissively. ‘Can’t say I notice it much any more. Jessie and Effie are up here.’

Meagan followed Rachel up two flights of stairs into a bedroom that led off a narrow hall. The bedroom was light and airy and pleasantly furnished. On the large bed covered with a pink quilt on which elephants and rabbits gambolled, lay a small, pale child of around seven. Sitting next to the child, holding a book, sat a woman in her twenties who Meagan took to be Effie’s mother.

‘This is Jessie and her daughter Effie. Jessie, Effie—Dr Galbraith,’ Rachel made the introductions. She then strode towards the window and looked out, turning her back on the proceedings.

Jessie stood up. ‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ Jessie said. ‘Effie’s been complaining of stomach ache since the early hours of this morning. I’ve given her paracetamol but it hasn’t helped. Now she’s being sick.’ Jessie spoke quickly, clearly anxious. She turned to her daughter, who was watching Meagan with solemn eyes. ‘Effie, Dr Galbraith is here to see if we can make you better,’ Jessie continued.

Meagan approached the bed and smiled warmly at the young girl. Crouching next to her, she reached over to stroke the large pink cuddly toy the child was clutching.

‘A girl after my own heart, I see,’ she said soothingly. ‘You know, I had a bunny rabbit just like that when I was your age.’

Effie peeked out at Meagan from behind the rabbit. ‘My tummy hurts,’ she said plaintively, ‘and I’ve been sick. Four times,’ she added proudly.

‘Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that. If you lie down flat, I’d like to feel your tummy.’

Uncertainly, Effie looked towards Jessie.

‘Go on, mo ghaol,’ Jessie encouraged.

The child responded, sliding down in bed and pulling up her pyjama top for Meagan.

Meagan examined her, gently feeling for any abdominal tenderness and looking down the child’s throat for signs of inflammation. She was unable to find any abnormality and when she checked the child’s pulse and temperature she was pleased to find both normal.

‘OK, Effie, that’s you. I don’t think there is anything to worry about, but I’m going to ask your mummy to keep you in bed for the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow. Don’t try and eat anything but take small sips of water whenever you can manage it and I’ll pop back tomorrow to see how you are.’

Turning towards Jessie, Meagan signalled to her to step outside with her.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about—probably a bug that’s going around. I’ll leave you my telephone numbers. Please, don’t hesitate to call if there’s any change in Effie’s condition. But I suspect in a day or two she’ll be as right as rain.’

Jessie sighed with relief. ‘Oh, thank goodness. I know it’s silly to worry, but she’s all I’ve got.’

‘Just keep her in bed and let her sleep,’ Meagan said. ‘I’ll be surprised if she’s not back to her usual self by tomorrow.’

As Meagan turned to go, Jessie said, ‘Do you have time for a cup of tea? I know I could do with one! I’ll just check with Rachel that she’s happy to sit with Effie for a bit,’ she said, popping her head back round the door.

Apparently reassured that her presence wasn’t needed, she led Meagan back downstairs.

‘Don’t worry about tea,’ Meagan said. ‘I’m sure you have plenty to be getting on with.’

‘I could do with a cup. I’ve been up most of the night.’ She yawned. ‘Really, you’d be doing me a favour. A chat would stop me conking out. I’ve still got Sunday lunch to prepare.’

Following Jessie into the kitchen at the back of the house, Meagan took a seat at the large oak table that dominated the centre of the room. Black and white tiles patterned the floor and at centre stage stood a double-oven Aga. Meagan waited silently as Jessie bustled about the kitchen, spooning tea into a pot and setting cups out onto a tray. Now that anxiety no longer furrowed her face, Meagan could see that she was very pretty, her curly auburn hair framing a delicate face with large, gentle green eyes.

‘The house is gorgeous. I gather from Rachel you are the cook here.’

Jessie nodded, placing a china cup in front of Meagan and pushing the sugar bowl and milk jug towards her. ‘Effie and I love it. It’s been in the family for generations—and it’s hardly a house, more like a manor really. But the late laird never liked anyone to refer to it as such. He didn’t want the locals to think he thought himself or anyone else in his family above them. Unfortunately, when he died inheritance tax took a fair chunk of the family fortune, and it’s been a bit of a struggle for them to keep the estate running. But it’s a labour of love for Cameron and Simon, rather than a millstone around their necks.’ Her tone softened. ‘Their mother died years ago, when the children were very young, poor souls. So apart from them, there’s myself and Mrs McLeod, the housekeeper—she looks after your cottage too. The rest of the staff come in on a daily basis.’

Meagan was confused. What did Cameron have to do with Grimsay House?

Jessie continued chatting while she poured the tea and buttered some scones. ‘Grimsay House is open to visitors during the summer. It helps make ends meet and we have shooting and fishing parties coming to stay too. We also put on the odd ceilidh in the grand hall as well as an end-of-summer ball, which is actually at the end of the month. All in all it keeps me pretty busy.’

‘Er, Jessie. You mentioned Cameron. Surely you don’t mean Dr Stuart?’

Jessie looked at Meagan keenly. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ She must have seen Meagan’s look of confusion. ‘Cameron—Dr Stuart—being the eldest son, inherited the estate from his father. Our own Dr Stuart is actually Lord Grimsay of Grimsay house.’ Seeing the look of shock on Meagan’s face, she gave a low whistle. ‘You really didn’t know, did you? Well, I guess there is no reason why you should. Cameron keeps the two sides of his life pretty separate. He always wanted to be a doctor. Ever since he was a small boy. But since his father died, he has taken on the responsibilities he inherited. Somehow he manages the two roles.’

Meagan almost choked on her tea. Cameron. A lord! As if it hadn’t been a big enough shock finding out he was her colleague—now this. He hadn’t said anything about it that night, so on top of everything he hadn’t even been honest with her. Was that why he had never contacted her? What would a lord want with a student, a nobody? Hardly a long-term prospect for someone in his position. She hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours and the shocks kept coming.

Meagan’s mind whirled. ‘No, I didn’t know.’ She paused, even more confused. And where did the beautiful Rachel fit in to all of this? Aware that Jessie was looking at her with anticipation, she dragged her mind back to the conversation. ‘But isn’t it unusual for someone in his position to have a career?’

‘Not really. Not up here. The family has always lived as part of the community. Every so often they go to London, and of course they have friends up. But if you knew Cameron, you’d know he isn’t the kind of man to want an idle life. He has to be doing something. Something that really matters.’

Jessie passed Meagan a scone. Meagan bit into one, realising as she did so that she hadn’t had breakfast before Rachel had appeared and was suddenly ravenous. Munching the scone gave her a little time to absorb what Jessie had just told her.

‘These are delicious, Jessie,’ she said. ‘Someone left some pancakes for me at the cottage—were they yours?’

‘Yes. Mrs Macleod and I thought you might like some to welcome you. I bake a batch at least once a day. Apart from the visitors, there is always someone prowling around the kitchen. She stopped, cocking an ear. ‘Speaking of which, that sounds like Cameron.’

Meagan looked around, surprised. Sure enough, Jessie was right. Cameron came into the kitchen, sniffing the air appreciatively. ‘Ha, in the nick of time.’ He reached for one of the scones.

Jessie batted his hand away with a playful tap. ‘No, you don’t. I’ve only just made enough for this afternoon. I only gave Dr Galbraith one seeing as she was kind enough to give up her free morning to come and see Effie.’

‘And how is Effie?’ Cameron asked. He waited until Jessie had turned to fill the kettle again before filching a scone.

‘She’s fine,’ Meagan answered. ‘Just an upset tummy. I’ve recommended a day in bed. I expect she’ll be fine by tomorrow.’

‘Rachel’s keeping her company while I look after Dr Galbraith. I’ll take over in a minute.’

Meagan noticed Cameron’s raised brow at the mention of Rachel’s name.

‘It was either that or she’d have to finish the baking.’ Jessie and Cameron shared a smile.

‘Rachel baking? Never in a month of Sundays.’ He swallowed the last of his scone. ‘I’ll pop in and see Effie, shall I?’ Cameron suggested.

‘Oh, don’t worry. If Dr Galbraith thinks she’s OK then that’s all right by me. If you go up, she’ll start to think there’s something really wrong.’

‘In that case, why don’t I show Meagan around?’

Meagan started. ‘Oh, please. Don’t put yourself to any trouble. I’m sure you have enough to do. I can look around on my own another time—if that’s all right?’ She didn’t know why, but she was loath to be alone with Cameron. She suddenly felt awkward in his presence.

Cameron ignored Meagan’s protest and glanced down at her feet with the air of an expert.

‘Those boots are no use for walking here. There’s a pair of wellingtons in the hall. They belong to Rachel. You look as if you have roughly the same size feet. I’m sure she’ll be happy for you to borrow them.’

Meagan wasn’t sure that Rachel was the kind of woman who was happy to share anything with another woman, even a pair of wellington boots, but as Cameron took hold of her elbow and gently but firmly propelled her out of the kitchen, she decided for the moment at least it was better to take the line of least resistance. There would be time later to show Cameron Stuart she wasn’t a woman who took kindly to being bossed around.

The air smelled of the sea and the sun felt warm on her face as they made their way from the back of the house and headed up the hill. She had tried on Rachel’s wellington boots, but they had proved much too small. Cameron had forced her to try on a pair of his, but just like Goldilocks she had found them much too big. Just when Meagan had thought with a sigh of relief that the walk would have to be abandoned, Cameron had triumphantly produced a pair belonging to one of the farm workers that, while a little large, would do. As Meagan clomped along beside Cameron, she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

She felt the silence between them was awkward. Should she bring up that night they had shared all those years ago? But what would she—could she—say? Perhaps he didn’t want to be reminded of it. Instead, she decided to stay on safer ground.

‘Jessie was telling me a little bit about the house and how it’s been in the family for generations. I had no idea who you were.’

Cameron narrowed his eyes as her. ‘Does it make a difference? As far as you and the locals are concerned, I’m Dr Stuart, or just Cameron. My other life—this—’ he indicated the land with a sweep of his hand ‘—has nothing to do with my medical life. I think of myself as lucky. To be able to do the job I love in a place I love.’

As they reached the top of the hill, Cameron turned to her and said, ‘Enough about me. What about you? I always wondered if you’d succeeded in becoming a doctor, although I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t let anything stand in your way. You appeared to be a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.’ He turned the full gaze of his interested brown eyes on her and gave her an appraising look. ‘I have to say it was a bit of a surprise to find you on the side of the road.’ He grinned then frowned. ‘And an even bigger shock to find out we’d be working together.’