The Surgeon's Miracle by Caroline Anderson

last-minute donations, stands at twenty-seven thousand, six hundred and forty-five pounds.’
    Will’s jaw sagged, and beside Libby, Andrew sucked in his breath.
    He looked across at Will, realised he was beyond saying anything and got to his feet again, holding his hands up for silence. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he began when the cheers and clapping had died away. ‘Thank you, obviously. Thank you all so very, very much. The difference your generosity and the generosity of others like you all over the country makes to the children reached by these charities is immeasurable, and for them, for all the children who through donations like this one achieve a greater measure of independence and self-belief, we would all like to give you our heartfelt thanks. And, Mum, I guess we owe you lunch.’
    That brought laughter to a room filled with too much emotion, and moments later a huge birthday cake was wheeled in, blazing with candles, and they all—him, his brother, his father—had to go with her to blow the candles out.
    Lady Ashenden, near to tears but quietly dignified, thanked all her guests—for coming, for their enormousgenerosity—and then put her arms around both of her sons and hugged them hard.
    For Libby, sitting alone now on the top table, the whole event was deeply moving, and she felt incredibly privileged to have been invited. Will’s story had had a happy ending, but it wasn’t always like that. She’d seen it happen, seen the devastation caused by the disease. Not many. It wasn’t that common, but you never forgot the children you’d worked with in that situation, and even one was too many.
    Surreptitiously she wiped away her tears, sniffed hard and drained her wine glass.
    ‘Bit of a tear-jerker, isn’t it?’
    She looked at Sally, who’d perched on Andrew’s chair beside her, and dredged up a smile. ‘Yes. How did you manage to speak to everyone after that? I would have been in bits. I was in bits.’
    She shrugged. ‘I’ve heard him speak before, and it’s always very powerful. That’s how he’s so effective at fundraising. He does it every time—but this time, it was about his mother, and, well, to be honest I nearly didn’t make it! Still, it’s over now. They’ll bring the cake round, and she’s going to circulate while we all have coffee and eat the cake, then it’s dancing! And Will says you’ve promised him a dance, so don’t forget.’
    Libby laughed. ‘Yes—he says he’s a better dancer than Andrew, and I have to check it out.’
    ‘Does he, indeed? We’ll see about that,’ Andrew murmured from behind her, and she felt his hands settle warmly on her shoulders and pull her back against him. She tilted her head back to smile at him, and he dropped a kiss lightly on her forehead. She’d been about to reply, but the words dried up instantly and she forgot her own name ashe scooped her up and sat down, settling her back on his lap with his arms looped round her waist.
    Instinctively she put her arm around his shoulders to steady herself, her hand splayed over his shoulder, feeling the play of muscle beneath her fingertips through the fine wool of his tailcoat. She could feel the warmth from his muscular legs seeping through her dress, the solid bulk of his chest against her side, and the fact that they were doing it all for Cousin Charlotte’s benefit seemed neither here nor there.
    Her heart skittering in her chest, she ate her cake perched on his lap, sipped her coffee, laughed with them all when Will came over and cracked an endless succession of dreadful jokes, and then finally it was time to dance. The doors through to the ballroom were rolled aside, the music started and Andrew patted her on the bottom.
    ‘Up you get, it’s time to go and check out Will’s theory,’ he said, his eyes challenging his brother’s, and her heart, which had only just settled, lurched against her ribs. She realised she’d been waiting for this since Will had issued the