"Scott, all I observed was you about to stumble, and Dr Miller here attempted to prevent that. It appears you tripped anyway." The duchess' words genuinely surprised me.
"You can't be serious right now," Mr. Peterson barked out, but he maintained his distance, despite his hostile tone. He was smart enough now to keep a few feet between us. That was good. At least he understood I wasn't to be trifled with.
"I don't have time for your drama today." I had a feeling Duchess wasn't talking about my and Mr. Peterson's dispute, but probably his father's.
"The Chief of Medicine will hear about this," Mr. Peterson retorted, but the duchess merely shrugged as if she didn't care. I found that hard to believe, with the Chief being her Godfather and all.
"Whatever. I have an important meeting with Sheryl." He turned to walk off, and the duchess grabbed my arm as Dr Dan joined us. I hadn't even realized I was lunging forward for the jerk. "I'll have to report you if you make me."
I pulled away from her hold but remained rooted as I watched Mr. Peterson jump into his car and speed off. Looking around, I saw a good portion of the hospital staff staring at us, probably having witnessed most of what just transpired. Sheryl stayed a while before leaving.
I didn't know much about Dan other than Joey might be deeply fond of him, judging by the song she was humming this morning at work. But how could he let someone like Mr. Peterson marry his little godsister?
"You're going to let that arrogant idiot marry your younger godsister?" The distaste was clear in my voice.
"Stay out of it, Dr Miller. This is a family matter you know nothing about."
"I know a man like Mr. Peterson would truly harm a woman like her."
"I agree," he said, and started to walk away. I grabbed him by the shoulder as he had done to me moments ago.
"You agree?" I was speaking loudly, and I didn't care who heard us, but apparently Dr. Dan did, because he leaned in closer to me.
"I'm doing what I can but trying to remain professional. It's not your concern. As you said, she's my godsister."
"She's my patient."
"I don't believe hospital gossip," he said, referring to the whispers circulating around the facility. "I've also never heard my godsister even mention your name, so to me she's not your anything."
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him she had spoken my name repeatedly just today, but I wouldn't cheapen what I had with her.
What we had and what we'd done was special, and I wouldn't reveal it casually. It might be intensely personal between us, but between us is where it damn well stayed.
"Please, Dr. Dan. Tell me where the jerk and Sheryl are going tonight, and I'll ensure she doesn't end up with him. I'll make it my life's mission to keep her from making a mistake and committing to that scoundrel." I could see the hesitation in his eyes as he looked away and then looked back at me. "Don't let her do this."
He took a deep breath, made a decision, and nodded his head.
"Agreed."
Taking Control
That's it. I was done being subtle. I had tried being gentle and speaking softly, but I was through with that. I didn't care why she was marrying that obnoxious man. It was over.
I had my scooter parked in front of Lucinda's, the upscale Italian restaurant two towns over. It was ironic that Mr. Peterson was willing to be openly indiscreet in our small town, but he made the woman he was supposed to be marrying travel almost an hour away.
It was as if my duchess was a dirty secret, and that thought made me even angrier. She was important, and she was something to be proud of.
I waited for a long time until I finally saw a dark town car pull up and Sheryl step out. Mr. Peterson still wasn't here, but as the driver pulled away, I was guessing the plan was for him to drive her back home. That thought had me off my scooter in a flash and crossing the street to get to her.
Sheryl was still in the black dress and black heels she had a few minutes ago. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and it looked like she had on a lot of make-up. She looked like a different person than the sweet, vibrant woman I had breakfast with this morning. And I hated it.
When I reached the front of the restaurant, she turned and faced me, shock clear in her eyes.
"Dr Miller? What are you doing here? I thought I left you at the hospital? You have to leave. Mr. Peterson is going to be here any second."
"I don't care." I took her wrist and pulled her behind me, walking towards my scooter. I turned around and took off my jacket, holding it out for her to take. "Put this on and get on the back."
"Dr Davies." There was a plea in her eyes, and as she glanced over her shoulder at the restaurant and then turned back to look at me, indecision ran through her mind. "It's not that I don't want to go, because believe me, I do. It's because I can't."
"Sheryl, I don't know what's happening with you and that jerk, but the wedding isn't happening. You're mine, so get on the back of my scooter. You're coming home with me tonight and every night after."
"This is absurd." She stomped her foot when she said the last word, and it made me smile. "I can't go with you. Things could go really wrong for me if I don't do this." She took a small step towards me, and her eyes pleaded with me again. "I want more than anything to escape, but this isn't just about me."
I reached out, gently gripping her chin, and kept my eyes locked with hers. I didn't want her to miss anything I was about
to say because this was crucial.