My Darling Druid
Book TWO of the series, Garland of Druids
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London Hospital, 1919
The child on the bed twitched, sighed, and then quietly fell asleep. Nurse Vivie Field’s breath whooshed in relief as she leaned against the wall. Blessed Merlin! Her hands ached from an hour of wringing cloths with ice water. Their application was finally reducing Betsey’s fever. When Matron returned from the emergency that had called her from the ward, she’d be pleased to find the child sleeping naturally.
Vivie efficiently changed sheets and placed Betsey in a fresh gown, all without waking her. She loved the crisp smell of the fresh linen, and took a deep breath. She could rest for just a moment. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and amused herself by picturing some wicked little spell to cast on the derelict doctor who’d left no patient instructions. Some simple spell her Druid ability could easily perform. Warts and boils were too easy. Could she possibly shrink a certain valued male appendage?
“Nurse Field, I believe?”
The deep voice of Dr. Alecander Stratton snapped her eyes open. She pushed herself straight and faced the frowning doctor. Supercilious eyebrows raised. Aristocratic nose lifted. The director of the children’s ward. Sarcastic, brilliant, imperious Dr. Alecander Stratton.
His beautifully modulated baritone sent shivering fingers tapping down her spine. She’d always been intrigued by his bare tinge of an American accent. She didn’t want to hear it right now, however.
The resonating voice sounded again.
“I can’t help but notice a stack of what appears to be damp towels and linen heaped on the floor beside you, nurse. I’m sure you have an excellent explanation for relaxing instead of cleaning up such an unhygienic display. I’m perfectly willing to hear it.”
All books in the Garland of Druids series
can be read as a stand alone book.