The Original Villainess

CHAPTER 3 pt 1

There was a knock on the library door.

“Come in.”

Dorothy opened the door, looking around hesitantly. “M-my Lady. You have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” I didn’t bother looking up as I threw an unopened letter from the crown prince into the fireplace, watching the flames eat the paper rapidly. Bastard. That’s the fourth letter this week. Why does he keep trying to talk to me?

“That’s a bit rude of you, Miss Brynne.” The familiar voice shocked me into alertness, and I whipped my head around to find Doctor Richards standing there, holding his medical bag. “Weren’t you the one eager to be seen to?”

I grabbed the fire poker and stabbed the remnants of the letter, now completely ash, cursing Carson with every swear word I knew. “Has it been two weeks already?” I asked casually, as I replaced the poker on its stand, though I knew the answer. I had counted down every second of each day, praying it wouldn’t be too late by the time he could examine me. I’ve even tried searching for herbs that would have similar effects as an emergency contraceptive, but Dorothy would for sure know I’m planning something if I asked her for help, and I didn’t want word getting around.

My shoes clicked sharply against the floor as I strolled past him. “We should go to my room, Doctor. Dorothy, will you fetch us some tea?”

“No need,” Doctor Richards said, keeping pace with me. “I won’t be here that long.”

“Please,” I smiled sweetly. “I insist.” At least get my mind off that incompetent crown prince.

He peered at me in silence before nodding once, and I continued to guide him to my room as Dorothy made her way to the kitchen. Once we were in the confines of my bedroom walls, I locked the door and drew the curtains to keep out of sight any prying eyes.

“You’re being suspicious,” the doctor sighed casually, setting his bag down on my end table. “There’s nothing wrong for a doctor to examine his patients.”

“I’m not a patient,” I scowled. “If my family found out about it, they’d want to know why, and I’m not in a very giving mood right now, thanks to someone.”

“I told them I wanted to take a look at your hand to see how it’s healing. I wrapped it, so that makes you my patient. Lie on the bed,” he instructed before I had the chance to respond.

“Hmph.” I plopped down on the mattress and stretched out, placing my hands flat, face down at my sides. “In any case, you said two weeks. It’s been seventeen days.”

He smirked, a secret hiding in the corner of his lips. “Has my lady been counting?”

I scowled at him, tempted to withdraw my arm and put a halt to the examination. “Why would I do that? It’s not like my life is going through a drastic change right now that will require your expertise and silence.”

“Hush, my lady,” Doctor Richards chided kindly, his eyes gazing at me softly as he rested two fingers over the pulse on my wrist. “I missed you by one day. Are you going to be the one to tell my patients I cannot make their appointments due to the overreaction of a noble lady who thinks she should be given the world simply because of her bloodline?”

One day? Learn how to count, bucko.

A memory flitted through my mind.

Oh, that’s right. The weeks in this world are eight days long. I guess I can’t fault him for that. My eyes followed Doctor Richards as he took his stethoscope from his bag. He really would be a lot more pleasant to look at if he didn’t have that crazy hair. I wonder why he doesn’t cut it? He probably scares half his female patients looking like that. And as long as he keeps his mouth shut, then his attractiveness just grows.

“I don’t think that,” I blurted out.

He glanced at me, motioning me to lift a hand above my head.

I did so, never breaking his gaze. “I don’t care about bloodline,” I told him, and a little scoff escaped his lips.

“You forget I’ve known you for almost seven years now, my lady. I’m quite familiar with your personality.”

“A girl can’t change her mind?”

Doctor Richards put his stethoscope down and met my eyes again, a deeper kind of yearning behind them that I had never seen before. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

I looked away quickly and shut my eyes. Why’s my heart beating so fast? Is it because he’s handsome? Maybe it’s because he’s looking at me with those bedroom eyes. Why’s he gotta have those bedroom eyes? That’s not fair! Brynne’s weak against handsome men!

He picked up one of my hands, his fingers tickling my new scar, adding pressure to various places.

My pulse threaded under his touch.

Screw it. I’m weak against handsome men!

“Does it still hurt?” he murmured. “Your hand.”

“It cramps up sometimes,” I told him, “and I can’t pick up anything heavy yet, but it doesn’t hurt too much.”

“Still, a lady shouldn’t have a scar on her hand. It’ll be inconvenient for you to wear gloves everywhere.”

I half-scowled, keeping my eyes shut. “What kind of sexist world do we live in that men are afraid a small scar is going to ruin his wife’s brilliant future as a baby carrier? Is that all that matters to a woman?”

A soft sound, almost like a chuckle, came from above me, and my eyes snapped open.

Is he laughing at me?

“Most people would say yes,” Doctor Richards answered, meeting my gaze almost tenderly as he set my hand back down. He replaced his stethoscope in his bag and pulled out a small container. “Use this balm. It’ll help with the scarring, so it doesn’t look so ugly.”

I lifted my hand. True, getting cut by glass was not the cleanest way to go about it. But I didn't hesitate, so the scar was one straight line. Even though the skin was angry and pink, I saw no issues with it. I curled my fingers into my palm. “No.” I sat up to look the doctor square in the eye. “I refuse.”

His brow raised ever so slightly, but he just shrugged and replaced the jar in his bag. “If you change your mind, let me know. But remember, if you wait too long, it won’t work anymore.”

I opened my mouth to shoot back at him, but a knock on the door reminded me that Dorothy was supposed to bring tea. I jumped out of bed and hurried to the door to unlock it, cracking it open. “I’ll take that, Dorothy, thank you.”

“My lady, are you okay?” she asked, worry dancing across her face as her eyes darted back and forth between Doctor Richards and me.

“Absolutely,” I smiled back at her. “He’s just making sure I’m healthy, but I don’t really want anyone else here, okay? It’s kind of a personal check up.”

“Of course, my lady! I’ll make sure no one else bothers you!”

Wow, so dedicated. I smiled as I watched my maid leaving, and locked the door again, setting the tray of tea down. “Have some tea,” I smiled at the doctor.

He only raised a brow before sighing. “Fine. Since you insist.” He took a seat as I poured. “Are you stalling?” he asked.

“I don’t stall.”

“If I recall correctly, Miss Brynne, that’s exactly what you do.”

I frowned at him, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out. “As I said before, maybe I’ve changed.”

I felt his eyes on me as I sipped my tea, but I refused to look at him. “Perhaps you have,” he murmured. He cleared his throat. “Then, if you’re not stalling, shall I tell you the results of my examination?”

“Please, Doctor,” I smiled sweetly.

“Inconclusive.”