The Lady's Physician

  Sinclair Brothers

  Jane Charles

  Timeless Romance, Inc.

  Contents

  About The Lady’s Physician

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  The Lady’s Physician © 2024 by Jane Charles

  Cover Design by Lily Smith

  All Rights Reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  About The Lady’s Physician

  Doctor Xavier Sinclair dedicated his entire life to finding treatments for melancholy, hysteria, and illnesses of the mind so that others did not suffer and die as his mother had. However, when he failed to cure his sister’s amnesia, he questioned all that he had learned, especially after an obstinate woman, Lady Olivia Westbrook, challenged his authority. What could a woman know of medical matters, especially something so difficult to understand as the mind and memory?

  Had Lady Olivia Westbrook been born a male, she would be a doctor. Instead, she did the next best thing and read every medical journal, paper and book published, and even disguised herself as a man to attend classes and lectures when possible. She had also been a great admirer of Dr. Sinclair until she actually met him and found him arrogant and dismissive.

  After a battle of wills, Olivia believed she had seen the last of Dr. Sinclair, leaving their disagreements in the past. Or so she thought until he showed up at Westbrook House, a home for orphans and women seeking refuge from unpleasant situations.

  Forced together to help solve an attempted murder and a mysterious illness, can they put their differences aside or will their stubbornness stand in the way of love?

  Prologue

  Autumn 1815, Hampshire, England

  * * *

  For the first time in his life, Dr. Xavier Sinclair was uncertain of his future.

  He followed his four brothers from the carriage, and stared up at his childhood home, Wyndhill Park. The dark brick manor, rising three stories above him, more a mansion than a home, was filled with both pleasant and frightening memories.

  “I am in need of a brandy,” Micah, the middle brother, announced, to which the others murmured their agreements. Xavier said nothing and took his time in following them inside. He and his brothers had just returned from a visit with their only sister, Elaina, who was married with two children of her own.

  When they’d first gone to her home, Elaina had been plagued with amnesia for three years. Xavier had attempted to treat her and cure her of the condition but he had failed. Only when Elaina’s husband, and their family friend, Lady Olivia Westbrook, had gone against Xavier’s instructions did Elaina improve and regain the memories she had lost.

  It still stung that they’d been able to help her when Xavier could not.

  Lady Olivia, a most obstinate and disagreeable woman, had only read journals, but never treated anyone. As for Elaina’s husband, he was too blinded by emotion to heed Xavier’s advice. Yet, they had been correct, and Xavier had been wrong, which left him questioning whether he should continue in his work. He had dedicated his entire life to the pursuit of treatments for madness, depression, hysteria, and all ailments of the mind so that others did not suffer and die as his mother had.

  Except, his knowledge had failed him when it came to Elaina.

  “You are getting rather long in the tooth.”

  Xavier stopped at the threshold of the library and glanced around to note that each of his brothers was lounging about, a glass of brandy in hand.

  “I can only assume you mean Lucian, as he is the eldest,” Xavier offered and made his way to the sideboard where he poured his own glass of brandy.

  “I mentioned that I am considering purchasing Greenhaven Cottage,” Asher, the fourth born brother announced. “Lucian is not in agreement.”

  Greenhaven Cottage was the estate that neighbored theirs and had stood vacant though was sometimes let in the summer. “Why the purchase?” Xavier asked.

  “We could extend the stables, more land for the horses, or maybe build our own track for racing,” he answered. “I would also live in the cottage.”

  “There is no need for you to move from Wyndhill Park,” Lucian argued.

  “Ah, but there is. You cannot wait much longer to wed. I am certain that your future wife does not want four younger brothers underfoot.”

  “There is no need for me to wed when I am certain one of you will see to the task.” Lucian frowned before he took a drink of his brandy.

  “You are the Earl of Garretson,” Silas, the youngest reminded him. “Therefore, it is up to you to wed and produce an heir and a spare.”

  “It is a rule, is it not?” Micah asked. “I am certain that is a rule.”

  “If it were, several titles would have been retired by now,” Lucian argued. “Yes, it is preferable, but not necessary. As we all share the same bloodline, especially father, and none of us were born on the wrong side of the blanket, any of you could marry and produce the heir apparent. Therefore, it is not necessary that I do so just because I happened to be born first.”

  “And the very reason I am happy to have been born fourth.” Asher grinned.

  “It will not be me,” Xavier announced. “I have no desire to wed, nor father a child. Further, I already own a comfortable home in London. Therefore, there is no concern with me being underfoot.”

  As the spare, Xavier had assumed that if something did happen to Lucian, it would fall to him to see that there was an Earl of Garretson for the next generation, but as Lucian pointed out, any of them could see to the task and he was quite happy to allow one of his brothers to do so.

  “I am only twenty. I certainly cannot consider a wife, or any woman, at this juncture in my life,” Silas argued.

  “You speak as though you are a virgin,” Asher snorted.

  An unanticipated blush spread across the face of the youngest brother.

  “You are!” Asher pointed. “That must be rectified right away and once done, you will be considering women quite often.”

  “If you enjoy women so well, then you should wed and go about begetting heirs in Greenhaven Cottage,” Silas challenged.

  “The only breeding I am concerned with is that of our racers. The bloodline of Hercules is the one that needs to be continued. It is our future and fortune.”

  “That leaves Micah to see to future generations,” Lucian offered with a grin.

  “It will not be me,” he insisted. “Have you forgotten my injury.”

  Xavier’s stomach tightened. How could he not have considered… “Your lower back, from battle. Does that mean that you can no longer…it has happened to others?” Good Lord, to be unable to enjoy intimacy for the rest of one’s life would truly be depressing, and Micah was only four and twenty.

  “I can assure you that only my back was injured. However, pain does make the act difficult,” Micah ground out.

  “Then have her ride you.” Asher grinned. “It is often my preference as it leaves my hands free to fully enjoy that which is before me and to pleasure her in the most delightful ways.”

  Micah glared at his brother but did not respond.

  “One of us must produce a son,” Lucian insisted. “Therefore, I have a proposition.”

  There was no offer large enough to make Xavier reconsider his bachelor intentions.

  “Harwood Hall,” Lucian announced. “It remains empty yet houses servants in the event one of us visits.”

  Sometimes Xavier forgot the family owned a second estate.

  “It is not entailed, therefore, it can be given or sold to another.” Lucian’s lips quirked as he looked to Xavier. “You have often complained that those who suffer from madness are only driven further into it once they enter Bedlam. The manor is certainly large enough that you could establish your own hospital. It does boast twenty bedchambers.”


  Xavier only offered a nod but would not commit. Especially when it might require him to wed.

  Lucian then looked to Micah. “As Harwood Hall is near Eastbourne, you have only a short stroll to the beach, where you prefer to walk. The weather is also mild so you will not be plagued with additional pain brought on by the cold.”

  “We have beaches not far from here,” Micah reminded him. “I stroll them often.”

  Lucian frowned and turned his attention to another brother. “Asher, as you know, there are large stables, which remain empty, and land for the horses to graze.”

  Xavier narrowed his eyes as he realized Lucian was dangling the prize before each brother with a solution to concerns previously voiced as incentive.

  “The same is available on the neighboring estate,” Asher reminded him.

  “Why should I want it?” Silas asked with a hint of curiosity in his tone.

  “Income,” Lucian answered. “You would become a landed gentleman and not need to decide on a profession.”

  “What exactly is your proposal, Lucian?” Xavier asked.

  “The first of my brothers to wed and produce a son will receive Harwood Hall.”

  “Say one of us does so, but then you marry and have a son?”

  “My son will inherit the title and Wyndhill Park. Ownership of Harwood Hall will be given to the first brother to father a son no matter how long it takes.”

  “Well, I have no need for such an estate. My work is in London.” Xavier tossed back what remained of his brandy.

  “Nor I,” they each echoed.

  “It will be one of us,” Lucian predicted. “The odds of none of us finding love is nearly impossible and when that happens, I will be happy for you.”

  “You cannot simply sit around and hope that one of us marries,” Micah insisted.

  Lucian settled back in his chair and cradled his glass of brandy. “Two years. If none of you manage to meet the terms set forth for ownership of Harwood Hall, I will take myself off to London, endure a bloody Season instead of just attending Parliament, and marry the most pleasant woman I can find.”

  Having to endure a Season would be hell for Lucian, which is why he was so willing to part with an estate.

  1

  London, Spring 1816

  * * *

  Lady Olivia Westbrook slipped into the upper gallery of the lecture hall anxious for the presentation before the Royal Society of Medicine to begin. As was her habit, she found a seat at the back and in the shadows. Her disguise had been rushed this afternoon and it would not do to have anyone look too closely.

  Though Olivia tried not to miss any lectures, there were times that she must because of one crisis or another at Westbrook House, a home for orphans and women who had no place else to turn. Luckily emergencies did not occur with too much frequency. However, despite a few children who were put to bed with a running nose, occasional cough, and low fever, and one woman in labor, Olivia could not miss the lecture being presented by Dr. Xavier Sinclair. She only wished that it was being given in the evening when she was less likely to be recognized, even in disguise.

  The topic was amnesia brought on when someone had witnessed something so traumatic that their mind could not accept the truth, or the pain was too horrific that the brain or mind had simply blocked all memories.

  Olivia listened as Dr. Sinclair spoke of a case with which she was quite familiar—that of his sister, Lady Elaina Hopkins.

  Her recovery had been quite remarkable to witness and despite having been present when it occurred, Olivia could not ignore her curiosity as to how Dr. Sinclair would describe the events from his arrogant perspective.

  To think that she had once greatly admired his mind and read his papers as soon as they were published. Then she’d met Dr. Sinclair, and all illusion of a brilliant and thoughtful gentleman vanished with his superior and dismissive attitude toward her.

  Except, that aspect of his personality was missing this evening. Though, it could be because he was presenting to his peers and not a mere woman.

  “Therefore, what we have assumed and have been taught is not always accurate. Reasons for amnesia are not always from a strike to the head or a sudden illness. As in the case that I described, the withholding of information almost proved to be more detrimental than the condition the lady suffered. It may be wiser to provide information to the patient, even if it does not assist in bringing forth memories. We had no way of knowing that the patient believed something that was not true, and I am humble enough to admit that perhaps I was far more cautious in my treating of this patient than necessary.”

  Olivia nearly snorted. Dr. Sinclair had been autocratic and stubborn in his treatment of Lady Elaina, and not once had he been humble. Yet, she understood. Not only had the patient been his sister, but Olivia had also become privy to something quite personal and traumatic in Dr. Sinclair’s past that likely clouded his judgment of how best to proceed.

  As the attendees applauded Dr. Sinclair’s lecture, Olivia prepared to slip from her seat. She must be out of the building before the others started for the exits. She glimpsed one more time at the presenter as she stood to find Dr. Sinclair looking up and directly at her. Then he frowned.

  As the last of the spectators had arrived for Xavier’s presentation, a man entered the upper gallery and settled into the shadows. Xavier had seen him before, and the man’s presence was always most unnerving because it was nearly impossible to make out any features of his face. Almost as if the doctor, assuming the attendee was a doctor, was sitting back in judgment and quietly questioning any findings.

  Nobody knew who he was because the man always came in late and left before everyone else. Many assumed that it was O. W. Brook, a gentleman who penned articles for the medical journals and the only author who did not identify himself as a physician.

  Though Xavier couldn’t see him clearly, there was something familiar about this O. W. Brook, if that was who the man was, but he couldn’t quite grasp where he might have seen him before. Had he allowed his brother-in-law to send for Brook to consult on Elaina’s amnesia then the man wouldn’t be a stranger. But, at the time, Xavier hadn’t wanted anyone else to advise on Elaina’s condition, or worse, overshadow his care or prove him wrong.

  Xavier put aside his questions, and looked to the others who had gathered and began his memorized presentation. When it was finished, he finally relaxed. That had not been an easy lecture, but necessary. Though it had been hell to watch Elaina suffer, and he’d been impotent to help in any way, it had also brought enlightenment to a condition they knew so little about.

  As Xavier gathered his papers, he glanced about the chamber of attendees. The gentleman in the back stood, just as others stirred. Xavier met the man’s eyes, though he couldn’t discern a color from this distance. Again, he was struck with a familiarity that he could not place.

  The man quickly ducked from the chamber, avoiding contact with anyone.

  Abandoning his lectern, Xavier pushed past those who wished to congratulate him or ask questions. Though he was polite and promised to return, it also slowed his progress. He needed to catch up to the illusive doctor, or this O. W. Brook, but just as he gained the walk, the man stepped into a hackney.

  “You, doctor, a moment,” he called.

  But Xavier was ignored as the door was snapped shut and the hackney pulled into traffic and disappeared.

  If it was the last thing he did, Xavier would learn the name of the elusive, silent doctor who sat in the shadows, even if he needed to begin sitting there during lectures himself.

  2