Selena Savage. Alone. In his bedchamber.
Bloody, bloody hell.
He could still remember her soft body sprawled over him. Even after that, her proximity in his bedchamber, two feet from his bed, was deuced unnerving. Had she not felt any nerves dancing over her own skin?
How could she be so cavalier and enter a gentleman’s chamber?
Was it just him?
He had briefly escaped in drink, his wish to forget all his woes fulfilled, yet his biggest woe had returned tenfold the next day. He should never have overindulged. Without her, that momentary peace of mind always collapsed the instant he opened his eyes the next day. With her... his brain could not keep up with the speed of her wit. Otherwise, he might have questioned why he’d been dragged to the house of God knewwho and was standing in a hall that smelled of vinegar and a copper undertone he couldn’t entirely place.
The butler returned. “This way, please. Doctor White is expecting you.”
Doctor?
Warrick scowled at the woman beside him as they followed the short, stocky man. They were shown into the study, and a tall, wiry, grey man rose from behind the desk when they entered.
Selena curtsied. “Doctor White, thank you for taking the time to see us.”
“Of course. My niece said you have quite an interesting case.” He motioned for them to take a seat.
Niece?
His brain wasn’t ready to deal with this, whatever this was. Warrick stared at the man across from him as he lowered into a seat beside Selena. The action was so measured, it was almost painful. Why were they calling on a doctor? He wasn’t sick. Or diseased. Or bloody rotting from the inside.
“What exactly is the problem?” Doctor White asked.
Warrick turned to glance at Selena.
“My companion...” she gave a light cough, “wishes to break a family curse. I was informed you might be of help in his matter.”
“I see,” Doctor White said, steepling his fingers.
Warrick’s temples flared in pain. Did the doctor really see? He doubted that. And yet the man stared at him calmly, studying him.
“When did it start?” the doctor asked after a moment, directing the question to Selena. She, in turn, looked to him in question.
Warrick rubbed his forehead. “A few months ago.”
“I see.” The doctor reached for the quill and scribbled something into a notebook. “Has this curse affected anyone else in the patient’s family?” Again, he directed the question at Selena.
What was the man’s problem? Andpatient?
“Not that I’m aware of. Perhaps older ancestors.”
The doctor nodded. “And how has it been affecting the patient’s life?”
Annoyance stirred. “I’m not a bloody patient,” Warrick snapped. “And how do you think it has been affecting me? It’s a family curse—calamity will befall any man of my clan if we don’t wed by thirty. I turned thirty a few months ago. Now bad luck follows me like a damn lost puppy I once tossed a scrap of meat. How do I get rid of that damn puppy?”
“You should have just wed,” Selena muttered from beside him.
“I refuse to have my life dictated by a curse. I want to break it.”
“You believe in this curse?” the doctor asked.
“No.”
“Yet, you are here seeking help to break it,” the doctor said, scribbling some more notes.
