CHAPTER FOURDoctor Meade strode briskly into the Earl’s study, pulling on his long black jacket over white shirtsleeves and a sombre mustard waistcoat.
Tall and thin with a neat grey beard and side-whiskers, he accepted gratefully the glass of whisky the Earl handed him.
“Thank you, my Lord. Much appreciated on such a cold night – or should I say morning, because I believe dawn is now breaking.”
“It was so good of you to come out, doctor. I have arranged for breakfast to be served to you immediately.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow.
It would hardly have been possible for him to have refused George’s insistent demand earlier that night.
“And the young lady? What of your patient?”
The Earl turned away as he enquired and stood, one hand resting on the white marble mantelpiece, gazing at
