Once they descended the quartermaster’s cottage steps, Perkins turned to Chad.
“Well, you’ve won. Are you happy?”
Chad backed away from the other doctor’s angry glare. Shame sprouted in his chest now that he pondered his behavior, but he’d do it again to defend Claire—Doctor McPhee, he reminded himself. He could have figured out a better way to handle Perkins’s characteristic misogyny, though, than violence. It only showed Chad how her being there frayed his own nerves.
“Not really,” Chad said. “We have a consumptive on the ward. I only hope that I’m able to have him moved soon enough. Nanette should have told me about his cough the moment he came in.”
“Well, she’s been…busy.” Perkins grinned. “Don’t worry about your precious little neuroticist. I prefer brunettes. Staying on the gener
