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“Mine is in January,” he offered conversationally. “The twentieth. I shall be one and thirty.”

Brandon passed her his hat and gloves, and finally, his outercoat before retrieving his doctor’s bag. He disliked treating her as a servant, but the manservant who sometimes acted as Mrs. Thackpenny’s butler was nowhere to be seen this day.

“I’ll be five and twenty,” Joy murmured, the merest hint of despair leeching into her modulated tone.

Still staring out the door, she stood there, his garments in her arms. There was such yearning in her spectacular eyes that he impetuously blurted, “Miss Winterborne, perhaps you’d care to take a walk when I’m done examining Mrs. Thackpenny?”

Joy swung her astonished gaze to Brandon and then veered her attention to the open door once more.

“I would, in truth.” She carefully set his possessions on the table before facing him. “However, I fear Mrs. Thackpenny wouldn’t permit it. Particularly not if it isn’t Saturday and my half-day off.”

Her disappointment was tangible, and it stirred protective instincts quite different than those Brandon typically felt toward his patients.

“Hmm, even if I prescribed it for your health?” He fell into step beside her.

She sent him a sideways glance, and a small smile touched her lips. “Is that even a legitimate prescription?”

“It is if I say so,” he responded easily.

Her movements were unhurried and fluid. That of a woman of natural grace or one who’d been trained to move with feminine precision. Her speech and manners indicated she’d received an education, but she remained an enigma.

Brandon quite enjoyed riddles, and he meant to solve the puzzle that was Joy Winterborne.

“Surely, she wants her companion hale and hardy,” he persisted, astonished at his own doggedness even as he spoke.

“Doctor Morrisette, in point of fact, she cares more for her pampered dog and cat than she does for me.” Eyes wide and horrified, Joy slapped a delicate hand over her mouth as if suddenly appreciating how disloyal and critical she sounded.

“I beg your pardon, Doctor. That was most inappropriate. Forgive my outburst, please.”

A hint of trepidation touched the outer edges of her eyes as if she worried he’d reveal her forwardness to her employer, and she’d summarily be dismissed for speaking out of turn.

“I quite agree. They are the most spoiled of pets.” Winking, he kicked his mouth up into a sideways grin. “Please tell me I am not expected to examine them again today. They are not the most congenial of patients.”

She chuckled, a husky, melodic sound that at once made him wonder what she’d sound like in his bed as he made love to her.

Fiend seize it.

Control yourself, man.

Such lustful thoughts were not typical for him, and a wave of shame heated his neck.

“No, Doctor. I don’t believe Mrs. Thackpenny intends for you to exam her pets today.”

They’d almost reached the stairs, and he turned to ascend them as he had dozens of times prior. Joy, however, remained at the foot of the stairway.

“Mrs. Thackpenny will see you in the parlor today.”

A distinct twinkle glittered in Joy’s eyes, and her mouth twitched the merest bit. Hands clasped demurely before her like a virtuous novice, she spoke in a servant’s neutral tones.

Tones which did nothing to disguise the hilarity shining in her eyes.

She’s laughing at me, the minx.

“She’s requested tea and dainties for your, ah, visit.” An almost imperceptible warble in Joy’s voice revealed the mirth she subdued.

Blister and blast.

Mrs. Thackpenny had migrated from not-so-subtle scheming to outright machinations.