The Delicate Matter of Lady Blayne by Natasha Blackthorne

said she has some sort dependency?” he asked.
    “Haven’t you heard enough?” Aunt Frances said. “Don’t you understand now that this is a very delicate matter and is best left to her doctor and us ladies?”
    “I want to know what this doctor is treating her for.” He turned back to his Grandmother, as she seemed more capable of plain speaking. “Please tell me.”
    Grandmother held up her hand and waved him off. “Jamie, don’t fash yourself over all of this. It was Freddy’s long illness, the shock of his death, that’s what did this to her. The doctor is caring for her. He will soon have her back to her old self.”
    “There was no shock involved in Freddy’s death,” he said.
    “You cannot understand what it is like to lose a husband.”
    “There’s more to this than a widow’s natural grief. I want to know all. And I want to know now,” he demanded, hearing the growl enter his own voice.
    Aunt Frances stared at him evenly. “James Blayne, I want you to swear on your mother’s life that you did not see Catriona this night.”
    How the devil was he supposed to do that? He just stared at her.
    Guiltily.
    He’d certainly done nothing to feel guilty about.
    Yes, but you came damned close to it.
    He steeled his expression even more.
    “Oh, God help you, boy.” Aunt Frances curled her lip upward. “God help you that you haven’t done something irreparable.”
    His sense of guilt mounted. He tightened his jaw, continuing to meet her gaze, refusing to be cowed, even though he was starting to feel like he was about fifteen again.
    After his father’s death, Aunt Frances had been the primary source of discipline for him as a boy. His own mother had been too soft, too prone to spoil him.
    “James Blayne!” His grandmother exclaimed. “Catriona is Freddy’s widow. How could you?”
    “How could I what?” He held his hands in front of his chest, using them to emphasize his words. “I’ve done nothing.”
    Aunt Frances shook her head. “No, he’s not to blame. He’s just a man, after all. He didn’t know.”
    “What didn’t I know?” His frustration boiled over. “What the bloody hell is going on in this house?!” The words exploded from him.
    Aunt Frances lifted her chin, looking regal now despite her rag curlers. “We’ve told you all that you need to know. Now I ask that you kindly leave the matter to us. If you intend to stay in Edinburgh for any length of time, please find a townhouse. A bachelor’s house. Your presence clearly has upset Catriona’s balance, and you can see from her indiscreet actions tonight that for you to stay here is to court scandal and disaster.”
    Her tone held a note of finality.
     
    ****
     
    “I will have to charge a consultation fee for this meeting.” The tall, skeletal man smoothed a hand over flyaway strands of silver hair.
    “Charge me then, doctor. But I will have answers,” James said, his mind still unable to wrap itself around the things his aunt and grandmother had said.
    It couldn’t be true.
    None of it.
    Except possibly that Sunny had become too dependent upon opiates. And if that were the case, this doctor had much to answer for. James intended to see that he did.
    Dr. Meeker motioned to a chair near the desk. “Please sit, my lord.”
    James crossed his arms over his chest. “I prefer to stand.”
    He was too agitated to sit. He had given up on his interrogation of the two women and come here to bang on Dr. Meeker’s door and demand entrance. Only his insistence that he would return the next day in the company of his solicitor had moved the rather burly-looking servant to wake his master.
    “Well, I hope you do not mind if I sit. My bones do not like me being awake this long before sunrise anymore.” A caricature of a smile bent the doctor’s thin lips. He reached into the pocket of his dressing gown and pulled out a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and put them on. His hands were slender and pale as parchment. The blue veins