LITMIR.BIZ

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saw him back on the wards. The teens were safe, their injuries relatively minor. Knife wounds, bruising, a couple of fractures, but he could cope with those. Ideally one of the boys should be sent to an orthopaedic surgeon, but where were the funds for that? He’d have to balance cost to the family against using the skills he had.

      Breakfast was a fast cruise past the hospital kitchen. Carla found him there. She’d been home and slept. She was sixty but she usually chirped like she was about twenty years younger than Leo felt. This morning she was rubbing her temple, though, and looking tired.

      ‘Headache?’

      ‘I need aspirin,’ she conceded. ‘Though why I should have a headache when it’s you who was up most of the night… Rough?’

      He nodded, swigging lukewarm coffee. If there was one thing he wanted more than anything it was to replace the coffee machine.

      A new steriliser for Theatre came first. There were always things that came first.

      ‘No deaths?’ Carla queried, and he wondered if that was how he looked. Maybe. Anna’s arrival had jolted his world.

      ‘No one’s dead,’ he told her. ‘Though there are three kids who tried. Knives, alcohol…’ He shook his head. ‘Seventeen years old and not a job or a prospect between them. It’s a disaster, Carla.’

      ‘So talk to the heiress.’

      ‘You know the rules. The money’s tied up in the castle. Even if I could persuade her…’

      ‘You could try.’

      ‘She’s a Castlavaran. What’s likely to change?’ He swigged more coffee and put his mug aside. ‘Ugh.’

      ‘But she’s an outsider.’ Carla suddenly sounded chirpy again. ‘And Maria says you’ve met her before.’

      Of course. Nothing in this hospital went unnoticed.

      ‘At medical school,’ he said, brusquely. ‘I didn’t know who she was.’

      ‘She’s a doctor?’

      ‘I imagine she finished her training, yes.’

      ‘Wow. That’s wonderful. You might even be able to persuade her to help us. Leo, what’s needed here is charm.’

      ‘Charm?’ He eyed her with suspicion. He and Carla went back a long way. In fact, it had been a much younger Carla who’d persuaded Leo’s mother—and the town—to send him to medical school in London. Carla herself had gone there, funded by an aunt who’d emigrated. She was full of energy and ideas and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. He looked at her now and thought, Uh oh. He knew that look.

      ‘Why not charm her?’ she went on. ‘Maybe even take it further. She’s the same age as you are, and she owns practically this entire country. And now she’s a doctor.’

      ‘A doctor who’s a Castlavaran.’

      ‘That’s prejudice,’ she said sternly. ‘I’ve a good mind to march in there and charm for myself.’

      ‘You’re welcome. She needs to be checked and discharged.’

      ‘Your patient,’ she said, and chuckled. ‘And your project.’

      ‘I have work to do. My plan is to get her out of here as soon as possible.’

      ‘The country’s stuck with her, though,’ Carla said. ‘You could put in a bit of effort.’

      ‘Leave it,’ he snapped, and then caught himself. Any minute now Carla would be sussing out past history. ‘From all I gather, she’s here to accept her inheritance and go.’

      ‘So keep her in hospital a little longer.’

      ‘Leave it, Carla,’ he said again, and he heard his weariness reflected in his voice. ‘We have work to do. Your headache…’

      ‘Nothing aspirin can’t fix,’ Carla said, and she was watching him now with worry. She’d heard something in his voice. Seen something on his face? ‘Leo, what’s wrong with you?’

      ‘Nothing that getting Anna out of our hospital won’t fix. Let’s move.’

      Leo had written her up for painkillers, so Anna had slept. She’d had some breakfast. A very young nurse had helped her shower, washing away the worst of the bloodstains. She’d be wearing a scarf for a while but she was feeling a lot more in control.

      She needed to get out of Leo’s hospital.

      Her tiny room was clean but shabby, with faded linoleum, a stark iron bedstead, a small wheeled table and nothing else. Its one high window looked out onto a brick wall and the light was from a single bulb, hanging high. It was hardly a room for feeling better in, she thought. It felt more like a cell.

      Had Leo put her in here purposely? Was it the worst room he could find?

      She wanted to leave, now.

      Victoir turned up soon after breakfast with her suitcase. He was appalled—appalled!—by what had happened and his volubility made her tired. She persuaded him to disappear while she rid herself of the hospital gown, but the effort of tugging on jeans and T-shirt made her feel woozy. She settled back on the bed, and almost immediately Victoir reappeared, this time carrying a sheaf of documents so thick the ache in her head surged back.

      ‘I can’t read them here,’ she told him. ‘And I need legal advice if they’re to do with the estate. Victoir, I’ll take them back to England with me and get them checked.’

      ‘I’ve only brought you the urgent ones,’ he told her. ‘These are things that can’t wait. Like blocking those tunnels. I warned you. The sooner they’re blocked—’

      ‘The sooner you can start turning the castle into your dream apartments?’

      The voice from the doorway made them both start. Leo. Of course it was. Victoir swivelled and scowled, and Anna flinched—which was stupid. She wasn’t afraid of Leo.

      She was afraid of how he made her feel.

      ‘Good morning,’ he said, edging into the tiny room. ‘Victoir, can I ask you to leave while I check Ms Castlavara’s condition?’

      ‘I’m Anna Raymond,’ she threw at him.

      ‘You own the castle. This entire country knows you as the Castlavaran and I’m not about to argue with my country. Victoir…’

      ‘Ms Raymond’s about to sign some papers,’ Victoir snapped. ‘They’re urgent.’

      ‘More important than Anna’s health?’

      ‘What gives you the right to call her Anna?’

      ‘I believe she gave me the right some years ago,’ he said, meeting Victoir’s challenge head on. ‘When we met at medical school.’

      What the…? Was Leo about to discuss their past history in front of Victoir? She felt herself go cold at the thought.

      ‘We did meet while studying medicine,’ she said, hurriedly and grudgingly. ‘And he might as well use my first name if the alternative’s Castlavara. Victoir, I’m sorry but I’m signing nothing now. Dr… Leo will tell you that I’ve been taking strong painkillers, so nothing I sign now will be legally binding anyway.’

      ‘You’re fine,’ Victoir snapped. ‘No one will argue.’

      ‘I’ll argue,’ Leo said smoothly. ‘Victoir, leave.’

      ‘Please, Victoir,’ Anna added. ‘And take the papers with you. Honestly, I’m fuzzy.’

      He knew when he was beaten. He cast her a look of frustration, but then softened.

      ‘I’m

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