She hadn’t lied to Willow. The Victorian doctor thing was one of her fantasies, embedded in her sexual memory since she’d seen Maggie Gyllenhaal in ‘Hysteria.’ She used to hide in her bed on rainy days, pretending she’d have to be taken to a handsome doctor for relief. She’d always hoped to role play the scenario with a boyfriend, but no one seemed to fit. Now she was trying it on with a football player she barely knew.

She opened her purse and pulled out her flask. She drank a few swallows of rum then replaced the flask with her vape.

God, do you ever stop?

She ignored herself, pulling at the peach-flavoured smoke. She’d played two shows yesterday, one at midnight and one at six in the morning with meet and greets all the way through. It had been easier with Cheryl and Andy there, but she was exhausted. So many people had asked her about Willow. She’d played dumb, avoiding the subject, but the entire time she’d been thinking about this. About him. Now was their chance to see if they could make this work, even in the short term, and she was fucking nervous. She shoved her vape away and adjusted her bonnet. She wasn’t Eden Jade anymore, she was the daughter of a nobleman, sent to the women’s physician on suspicion of being one crazy bitch. That wasn’t too hard to imagine. If her parents could have gotten away with sending her to an nuthouse—or having her burned at the stake—they would have.

She pushed herself off the door and prepared to go inside. Who cared if she and Willow couldn’t pull off role play? They could just screw around, and it would be hot anyway, because they were still basically strangers and not trying to spice things up after weeks of fucking.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered, opening the door.

There was nothing inside but a wide wooden staircase. Putting a hand on the bannister, she climbed. Classical string music was playing softly from somewhere, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. She paused at the top of the stairs. There was another, albeit polished, wooden door and fixed to it was a plaque.

Dr Sloan Williams

Physician

The Royal College of Physicians, Edinburgh

Eden peered at the plaque. It looked real. She touched it. It was real. It was a wooden plaque with Willow’s name written on it in gold, saying he was a doctor. He wasn’t a doctor, was he? No, that was stupid. But surely, he hadn’t gotten it made just for—

Inside the room, a chair scraped. Eden’s heart jolted.

Stop thinking about the plaque and go inside.

With a shaking fist, she knocked on the door. There was a pause.

“Miss Cartwright?”