#ch: caroline penvenen

[xradiant]

"You're a bit of a mess, darling." She told him as she skirted through the room and around the chairs that were elegantly set up. This was her private drawing room but she had always had Mat over nonetheless. She wasn't prone to apologizing for what people thought and of what her uncle expected her to do; which was to marry any number of those offer idiots who cared only for money and title. Was Mat Cauthon different? She wasn't entirely certain but she did know that he was a far better time than any of the other fools who attempted to get her attention. Taking a seat on the chaise she lounged back, patting her lap so that Horace could climb up into her lap. Idly she stroked the dogs coat and gave him a small smile. "Have you been in the horrid part of town, I wonder?" She questioned with an inquisitive lift of her brows. "Or is this your natural charm? Either way, I'm sure that I'll find the explanation intriguing." She waited. His stories were literally some of the only things that she could rely on to tell her of the world as it truly stood.

@luckhissoul

[bloodywondersden]

Gabriella Wilde as Caroline Penvenen in Poldark

[weloveperioddrama]

The ladies of Poldark + best moments (requested by anonymous)

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch.1

My cheesily titled but I hope not cheesily written Carolight hospital AU :D

Dr Dwight Enys, coming home from several years abroad, takes a job in the A&£ dept of St Neot's hospital in Truro, not intending to be completely knocked for six by meeting a certain lovely dermatologist - Dr Caroline Penvenen.

Posting the first ch. for Carolight Week. 

~

Maternity Ward

“How in the Hell – “ Dwight glared at the blue plastic sign above the double swing doors, as if staring at it hard enough might change it into something that made sense. While he’d admittedly only been working here a week, he couldn’t fathom how anybody found their way around this hospital. It was like a bloody labyrinth. Although that was all relative considering that the last hospital he’d worked in had essentially been three wooden huts stuck together. The St. Neot’s Infirmary was something else altogether.

Technically, his shift was over for today, but since the A&E dept. was currently running a little understaffed he was still on call until late that evening, before having 48 hours off. He had been planning on going home, since his flat wasn’t too far way to make getting back in an emergency unworkable, and he still had some serious unpacking to do. However, what he’d intended to be a quick trip to the HR department to swap his temporary staff card for a permanent one – hideous passport photo and all – had turned into a trip down the rabbit hole.

Blessedly, he knew someone in the maternity unit who would be able to give him directions. Verity Poldark was a senior midwife at St Neot’s, and had been the one to suggest Dwight apply for a job there. He’d met her when he was at medical school with her cousin, Ross, and she’d been a trainee at the university’s teaching hospital.

Verity was standing at the nurse’s station when he went in, looking harassed, her hair coming loose from its pins. It didn’t really look like the time to bother her – maybe he could ask someone else – but she managed a smile when she saw him.

“Hi, Dwight. What brings you here?”

“Being horribly lost, I’m afraid. I was going to ask if you could show me the way but I’ve obviously caught you at a busy time.” The whiteboard behind the desk showed that four o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday was apparently a popular time to be in labour.

“No, it’s – “ Before Verity could finish her sentence, the doors swung open again behind Dwight, and Verity looked behind him, breaking into a much wider smile of what seemed like relief.

“George! Thank God!” Dwight turned to find that George was a fair-haired man of about the same age as him.

“Somebody call for an anaesthetist?”

“GET ME THE FUCKING DRUGS!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” George passed by Dwight without a second glance, heading into the room where the shout had emanated from. Verity made to follow him, but stopped.

“Are you doing anything at the minute, Dwight?”

“Er, no, not really.”

“Want to come and help deliver a very angry lady’s twins?” Dwight thought for a minute; about the pile of boxes he had to unpack and the papers from his aunt’s solicitor he still had to read.

“You know, I would.” 

~

Dwight suppressed a yawn as he signed off on yet another patient form – a 14 year old boy who’d suffered an asthma attack during a PE lesson; he would fine, but Dwight had strongly advised him that it probably wasn’t the best idea to leave his inhaler on his bedside table when he was going to be playing rugby.

This morning had been a complete whirlwind. Five minutes after he’d clocked on, four victims of a car accident had been rushed in, all of whom needed stabilising before surgery; and then an 89-year-old woman with Alzheimer’s who was incredibly distressed after a fall at her care home; two workmen who’d sustained mild burns after a piece of equipment had caught fire. On and on and on they’d come. Friday was often a busy day in A & E – no Saturday night, but it could get chaotic. Just before the 14 year old boy, Dwight had seen a time of death pronounced on an overdose case, so he wasn’t feeling his best.

His 48 hours off hadn’t given him much rest, in the end, although he had collapsed face down on his bed first thing on Wednesday morning after Mrs Teague’s 12 hour-labour, which had ended in the arrival of boy and girl twins, seemingly hale and hearty.

Unlike most of the British hospitals Dwight had worked in, St Neot’s actually had a pretty decent canteen, and he thought a ham salad baguette and packet of posh crisps would hit the spot.

“Dwight! Over here!” Verity waved at him from the corner, and he weaved his way between tables occupied by a mix of uniform clad nurses, doctors in scrubs and patients with dressing gowns over their hospital nighties – the odd one with a drip. He hoped none of them were skipping out on ‘nil by mouth’ orders.

“Hi, Verity. Hello.” Verity was sitting with George, the anaesthetist from Tuesday night, and another woman who’d also been at the delivery. In the chaos, Dwight had never got her name, but he’d gathered she was the on-call obstetrician. She was very pretty, with short, dark brown hair and soft features; her smile was wide and friendly, her eyes warm. Dwight could imagine her being a soothing presence for nervous mothers-to-be. Today, she’d swapped her scrubs for a smart sleeveless blouse, her glasses tucked into the neck.

“Didn’t get a chance to introduce you all properly the other night.” Verity smiled. “Dr Dwight Enys, this is Dr George Warleggan and Dr Elizabeth Warleggan.”

“I assume that’s not a coincidence?” Dwight sat, putting down his tray to exchange handshakes with the other two, who smiled at each other in a way which made their connection rather obvious.

“No. They’re our resident lovebirds.” Verity grinned and Elizabeth shook her head.

“Thank you for your help the other night, by the way.”

“How is Mrs Teague? And the babies?”

“Mmm,” Elizabeth took a pull on the straw of her drink. “All well. They were discharged yesterday – we kept the twins for observation since they both had low blood pressure, but they were right as rain after 24 hours or so.”

“Mrs Teague seemed very…overwhelmed by the experience.”

“Ha! I’ll say.” Verity shook her head. “It takes women lots of ways but, Ruth…”

“All that screaming…” Elizabeth sighed. “And for such a straightforward delivery, especially for twins. I blame TV, you know. People see all those histrionics and they think that’s how it should be.”

“Says the woman who gave me a black eye when she was giving birth!” George cried and Elizabeth gave a dramatic sigh, looking up in an exaggerated appeal to the heavens.

“That was an accident!” She looked at Dwight. “I reached out for his hand during a particularly hard contraction and he happened to be bending forward at the same time…”

“That’s her story!” Dwight laughed. This was obviously a well-worn argument, and he couldn’t help but smile at the obvious affection between the two of them.  He hadn’t got a proper look at George the other night – after administering the epidural he’d only needed to monitor Mrs Teague for a short while before the delivery team could take over, and then he’d been called away for a surgical procedure. Blue-eyed and fine-featured, he certainly made a handsome match with Elizabeth.

“So, how many children do you have?” Dwight asked.

“Two.” Elizabeth picked up her phone, scrolling through before handing it to him. The picture showed an adorable little boy of about three, with dark springy curls, peering curiously at a tiny light-haired baby. “Valentine, he’s nearly four now, and Ursula, she’s just turned one.”

“ – “ They obviously sensed his surprise at the unusual names, and Dwight was briefly afraid he’d offended them, but George smiled.  

“Valentine was born on Valentine’s day, and Ursula was Elizabeth’s great-aunt, she died just before the baby was born. Also, there’s surprisingly little that goes with ‘Warleggan’.”

They chatted more as they ate, Dwight telling them a little about his time with Medicines sans Frontieres – although nothing about why he’d joined the organisation in the first place; even Verity didn’t know the full details there, and he certainly wasn’t ready to talk about it with strangers, even ones as nice as these. He did explain that he’d come home to Cornwall to take care of his Aunt’s estate, and that Verity had persuaded him to join the staff at St Neot’s.

“She’s the best recruiter this place has got!” Elizabeth laughed. “She got her brother here, too. And Demelza!”

Dwight had known Francis for a while, too, although not as well as the other Poldarks – he’d gone to a different uni, and practiced in Scotland for a few years. He was now a consultant ophthalmologist at St.Neot’s – the only one, actually.

“Demelza?” He’d met an awful lot of people since arriving at the hospital a couple of weeks ago, but he couldn’t remember her. He was sure he’d remember someone with such an unusual name.

“One of the hospital pharmacists.” Verity explained. “I met her at a yoga class, and she told me she wanted a change from her old job…”

“I think Dr. Martin said we were short a few A & E nurses if you fancy taking that on?” Verity elbowed him and he laughed. Suddenly, there was a beeping noise, and all four of them rummaged in their pockets.

“It’s me. Emergency surgery. Nice to meet you, Dwight.” With a quick kiss for Elizabeth, George was gone, his wife smiling after him.

“Aww…” Verity cooed.

“Shut up.” Elizabeth said primly, fighting a grin.  

“No, I love it. You give this sad singleton hope for true love.” Verity sighed with exaggerated dreaminess, and Elizabeth snorted. After a moment, Dwight became aware of someone standing behind him, just as Elizabeth smiled widely.

“Caroline! Here, meet the new A & E registrar I told you about. Dwight, this is Dr Caroline Penvenen.” Dwight turned to greet the new arrival, and found himself completely lost for words.

[dwightcarolinesource]

Well, here we are, Carolight Week is done for another year! I’d like to take a moment to sincerely thank everyone who took part, whether you made something small or something big, whether you took part one one day or more– I have enjoyed looking through your wonderful work all week and I hope you have too!

Please find below a masterpost of all the creations for Carolight Week in case you missed any. I encourage you to look at all of them and marvel in how creative and wonderful our little corner of the Poldark fandom is!

Don’t hesitate to contact me if I missed yours out or if I somehow didn’t reblog it to the blog– it wasn’t intentional I assure you!

Dwight Day

Fave Dwight Looks gif set by @iamacolor​

Lyrical Ballads and Longing fanfiction by @rather-impertinent

Dwight & Sarah graphic by @arlome

sigh no more fanfiction by @enyses

Prescription Passion ch.1 fanfiction by @letterfromtrenwith

let’s hear it for the boy fanmix by @penvenens

Caroline Day

an exhaustive list of caroline penvenen’s best moments that didn’t make it into the show meta by @enyses

Caroline-inspired haiku by @arlome

Untitled Caroline fanfiction by @carolightworld

Prescription Passion ch.2 fanfiction by @letterfromtrenwith

Favourite Caroline Looks gif set by @iamacolor

With Sarah and/or Horace

Sarah Lives AU graphic by @upstartpoodle

Modern Sarah + Carolight graphic by @rather-impertinent

ad meliora fanfiction by @enyses

Caroline and Sarah fanart by @arlome

Untitled Sarah Lives fanfiction by @carolightworld

Modern AU/AUs

One can dream Ch.4 Modern AU fanfiction by @iamacolor

Modern AU Instagram graphic by @rosetylere

Modern AU graphic by @enyses

Modern AU graphic by @letterfromtrenwith

Free Choice

Beside Him fanfiction by @hufflepuffhermione 

Ain’t No Cure For Love fanmix by @enyses

Carolight + Locations gif set by @iamacolor

[mmmusewrites-blog]

nampara garage ch 24 snippet

“Has there been any sign of them,” Verity asked, peering around Ross’s shoulder to glance at the door to the library. “Should we proceed with dinner?”

“I vote yes,” Dwight said confidently. Someone had to be positive around here tonight. “Besides if I know you, you’ve made plenty and will have some mystical way of keeping it warm and delicio---” He stopped when the door opened and he saw her. Not Demelza, who he knew was a red-head, but the stunning creature walking next to her, holding her hand. Tall, willowy, with the face of an impish angel. Long, luxuriant blonde hair he just knew would be silken to the touch and curves in all of the right places. Her cool, blue eyes paused to meet his, and he could see they still simmered with annoyance. Oh yes, Ross, you definitely needed backup, Dwight thought to himself. Very happy to be of service.

“Ross,” Demelza said softly, “this is my best friend, Caroline Penvenen.” Caroline Penvenen, Dwight thought to himself, doing his best to keep from laughing as he watched his friend carefully shake the woman’s hand. She stared Ross in the eye, thanks to the impossibly high heels she wore. Demelza turned to face Dwight, and he was struck by the friendly warmth that seemed to emanate from her. Not to mention the machinations of a military commander dancing behind her eyes.  “And who is this?”

Dwight offered his hand. “Dwight Enys,” he said gallantly. “It’s nice to meet you, Demelza.”

“Likewise! Ross has told me much about you.” she chirped. She motioned to her friend to join her. “Dwight, my friend Caroline.”

He locked gazes with the living embodiment of Aphrodite from the Birth of Venus. “My great pleasure meeting you, Caroline.”

“Likewise,” she smiled, a decidedly feline grin that made the hairs on his arms stand up. Her perfume wove its way around him and he was hard in an instant. Shit.

Verity appeared in the door frame. “Dinner’s ready, everyone.”

“Dwight, would you escort Caroline into the dining room?” Demelza beamed.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, offering Caroline his arm. “We’ll see you in there.”

~*~*~*~*~

Ross peered down at Demelza. “What on earth are you playing at?”

“Distraction, darling Ross,” she whispered, taking his arm. “Just the kind of distraction we need for a night like this.”

[xradiant]

Of course, he had been to those parts and she couldn't really help but feel a bit jealous. It was true that were she in the middle of one she just might end up feeling flustered and somewhat overwhelmed. But the idea of finding something that was untouched by general society was what made her eager to experience it. She shouldn't think that way, she knew that. After all that would make her a scandal. Her uncle would frown on that quite heavily but she couldn't help but seek it out. Maybe that was why she spent so much time with Mat. He was an absolutely devilish man but she could see something else in him. Something that intrigued her in more ways than just scandalous. She hadn't let him know that yet however. She wasn't sure what exactly he would do about it were he to know.

She laughed softly behind her hand and then lowered it once more to Horace's back. The dog was near falling asleep and the fire was nice and warm, it flickered nicely across his face. What a nice face it was. She used her free hand to pat the seat beside her and shifted slightly on the chaise. "Then why are you dallying? I want to hear all about it. I mean it." She gave him a pointed look and then a smile broke across her lips. "I want all the dirty little details, Mat. Every single one of them."

she's made like something expensive. her hair all done up perfectly, every blonde curl pinned a certain way. her face painted like that of a doll. beautifully done. her clothes are made of fine silk, a bright and vibrant color, the skirts falling over her legs, the lace at her neck gives her a modesty that her questions usually suggest that she doesn't want. but the lines she treads are hardly ever touched. he wonders if she means her suggestions or if she simply repeats things to get a reaction. it hardly matters really. he likes reacting to her. light help him but he likes it. likes just being around her. she's the first person of her class to actually consider him, to talk to him as a person and not with the flirtatious disdain the other ladies showed him. him, a bloody upstart. that's what they called him.

he had made a name for himself quickly, making money fast. gambling, investments, anything that turned a profit was good enough for him. soon enough he had made the kind of money upper class society just couldn't ignore. and yet they didn't want to accept. invitations were done with great hesitance but they were still given. then there was caroline, just about the prettiest thing he had ever seen. and she wanted him around. they had agreed on something of a game. she's accept his courting her, they could tote each other around at parties but she wanted to know of all the places that she had never seen before. she wanted to know everything it seemed like. she sits with the casual poise, good posture, richly settled. he leans forward, his elbows bent on his legs, a smile on his face once he catches her eyes. "i've been to every horrid part of town you can think of. and the ones you couldn't, especially those ones."

[xradiant]

@kingdom-of-vanity​ asked:

“Shooting star, make a wish.” ( from ross to caroline penvenen)

she smiles widely at Ross and then turns to the open balcony doors, stepping forward to look closer. the glass of champagne in her hand is halfway gone and the sky does look rather magnificent. “ it’s beautiful but I’m not sure if I believe in wishes on starts. “ softly she laughs and then glances at Ross. “ do you believe in them? or were you merely being courteous in hoping that my own wish might come true? “

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch. 3

Carolight Hospital AU

Ch 3: Dwight tries to get some rest - he doesn't quite manage, but he does get an unexpected invitation...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

~

“So…do you have a car?”

Dwight groaned at the ceiling of the on-call room, remembering his truly awful attempt at making conversation with Caroline outside the pub a few nights earlier. He was far too old to be acting like a stuttering teenager around women – even women as beautiful as Caroline Penvenen. He’d been utterly dumbstruck at the first sight of her in the hospital canteen. She was one of the few doctors at the hospital who still wore a white coat – the dermatology clinic’s private patients liked the uniform – and with her blonde hair and incredible blue eyes he’d thought she looked like an angel.

“Pleased to meet you, Dr Enys.” The little quick of her lips and raise of her eyebrow as she’d spoken had just about done for him. He’d bungled his way through the following conversation then, as well. Judging by her attitude at the pub, she obviously thought he was a complete idiot. Just some A & E hack compared to her skilled specialist. Dermatology was a rarefied field, a cut above the ordinary, not populated by stuttering fools like him.

With a huff, he turned over on the uncomfortable mattress, hitting the overstuffed pillow. Something that hadn’t changed in the years he’d been away from the NHS – considering the purpose of on-call rooms was to allow medical staff to get necessary rest, they seemed designed expressly to prevent them. He’d slept in much worse conditions, of course, conditions that some people had to endure every day of their lives.

He hadn’t intended to spend the day in the hospital, but his new neighbours had decided that this was a good day to have their kitchen renovated. The drilling and hammering, the workmen’s loud chatter and radio turned up to too high, all combined to make it impossible for him to either concentrate on getting anything done, or catching up on some sleep, so here he was.

Except he wasn’t getting any sleep here, either. Not that he’d ever found hospitals especially restful – and having his thoughts consumed by a certain blonde, blue-eyed skin doctor was not helping at all. With a sigh, he decided to make a trip to the coffee machine; not for caffeine, of course, that was the last thing he needed, but he wondered if a hot chocolate might help. Or rather, the vaguely cocoa-flavoured warm water that passed for hot chocolate out of that machine. He couldn’t be bothered to trail all the way down to the canteen or the coffee shop in the reception, however, so it would have to do.

“Ugh, for God’s sake.” The machine had just rejected his 20p piece for the third time and Dwight could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

“There’s a trick to it – you have to sort of shove it upwards.” He turned to find the woman he had been both secretly hoping and secretly dreading running into for the last few days. Caroline wasn’t wearing her white coat today, and her dark red top was incredibly flattering, although Dwight couldn’t imagine that anything would look bad on her.

“Oh, er, thanks…” The coin clattered into the exit tray yet again, and he closed his eyes, wishing the ground would just swallow him up.

“Here, let me.” Caroline’s shoulder brushed against his as she bent to retrieve the coin and he suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how long it had been since he’d been in close proximity to a woman who wasn’t a patient. With a little sort of flick of her wrist, she popped the 20p into the slot and the machine made a satisfying click as it dropped into the coin collector. She held out her hand to him, and it took him a stupid minute to realise she wanted the rest of his change –after she’d entered that, she turned to him with a raised eyebrow. He thankfully managed to get it together enough to tell her what he wanted. Dwight wasn’t sure he’d ever considered pressing the button on a vending machine to be a particularly attractive activity, but it certainly was when Caroline did it.

She handed him the little plastic cup, holding the rim delicately, although the liquid wasn’t really warm enough for that to be necessary. Dwight took a watery sip and grimaced – as she turned back to the machine, he saw Caroline’s soft lips quirk in amusement. She opened the stylish-looking leather purse she’d had tucked under her arm and fished for some coins. He stood for a moment, feeling awkward, and was about to just leave when she spoke again.

“Busy day?”

“Er, no, actually. I’m on call, but my neighbours are renovating so I thought here might be a bit more…restful.” She didn’t really need to know that, but he’d blabbed it out anyway, like the awkward idiot he was.

“Really? This place? Restful?” She had a very musical laugh, tilting her head attractively as she looked back at him.

“Compared to Drillsville, at least.” He paused, trying to think of something else to say, but she beat him to it.

“Are you going to watch the surgery?”

“The surgery?” He frowned.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Francis is performing the last stage of an OOKP. The patient’s agreed the surgery can be public – for the students mainly, but there’s a few others going to observe. It was a chemical burn which caused the injury – I treated him for some of the facial scarring, and I’ve been helping with the cheek implant.” Dwight was impressed. It had taken him a moment to dredge up whatever book he’d read about OOKP in back in his student days. It was an extremely rare and complex procedure involving the implantation of specially cultivated dental tissue into a patient’s eye to restore lost vision.  Like a lot of grafts, it was developed by temporary implantation into the patient’s body –  the cheek, as Caroline had said.

“Wow.” He had no idea Caroline was involved with such work. Slightly unfairly, upon reflection, he’d assumed she performed primarily aesthetic procedures. “When?”

“In about half an hour.” Caroline bit her lip thoughtfully. “Would you like to come?” 

~

“Good afternoon, everybody. My name is Francis Poldark, and I’m the consulting ophthalmic surgeon here at St. Neot’s. This is Mr Frank Worthing.” Francis – his voice muffled slightly by his surgical mask, and rendered crackly by the intercom system between the theatre and the observation room - indicated the unconscious patient on the operating table. “Mr Worthing has kindly agreed to allow you all to gawp at his surgery today for the purposes of enriching your medical education. He suffered a chemical burn to the upper left side of his face in an industrial accident, the resulting damage from which rendered him unsuitable for ordinary corneal transplant. Therefore, we will today perform the final stage of an osteo-odonto-keratoprosthesis procedure, more easily called an OOKP. Approximately four months ago, the first stages of the procedure were performed – the harvest and preparation of the complex. Scans show that it has successfully grown a new blood supply, so today we will be removing the complex from Mr Worthing’s cheek and inserting it into the eye.”

“Ew.” Dwight heard one of the students mutter. Clearly not one destined for ophthalmic surgery – or possibly any medical career at all if that was their attitude. There were many things more “ew”-worthy than sticking an implant into an eye, Dwight could tell them that for a fact.

“While we’re making sure everything is ready, I will introduce the rest of the surgical team, to give you some idea of what is involved in a procedure like this. First of all, assisting me is Mr Harry Blewitt, plastic surgeon, who will remove the complex from the cheek.” Another man amongst the virtually indistinguishable masked and gowned group nodded. “Also assisting – Ms Gloyne, ophthalmology registrar, surgical nurses Mrs Carter, Ms Edwards and Mr Daniel. And last, but very much not least, our anaesthetist, Dr George Warleggan. George, while we prep Mr Worthing, perhaps you could take our audience through your pre-operative checks, and what you’ll be monitoring as we proceed?”

“Of course…” George took over the narration, as smooth and confident as Francis – clearly, this was not the first time either of them had undertaken an educational exercise like this. Frankly, the thought terrified Dwight – he’d performed medical procedures under extremely stressful conditions, but having an audience like this…He admired their nerve; but surgeons were a different breed, far beyond even what he’d been trained to do in emergency medicine.

The surgery began, Mr Blewitt first carefully incising the patient’s cheek before removing the complex. Francis – with occasional contributions from the others – narrated the procedure in clear, simple terms, understandable to even the most befuddled medical student. Most of them were eagerly scribbling notes – Dwight was almost tempted to do so himself. There were a few other non-students in the room, aside from himself and Caroline, mostly distinguishable by their looks of interest rather than wide-eyed awe. He recognised one of them as a heart surgeon he’d been introduced to a week or so earlier, Malcolm Mc-something. The others – a younger man with fair hair, and a pretty, dark haired woman – he didn’t know.

After Francis had begun to remove the required parts of Mr Worthing’s eye – a couple of the students shifted uncomfortably – Ms Gloyne took over the narration, allowing her supervisor to concentrate. She wasn’t quite as confident as Francis, but her strong Cornish accent was engaging to listen to, and she clearly knew what she was talking about. The door to the observation room clicked open and he turned to see Elizabeth Warleggan slip in, taking a seat on the back most of the tiered benches. Catching his eye, she gave him a small smile before turning to watch the procedure, although he saw her gaze flick to her husband at his position by the monitoring equipment. George was bent over his clipboard, making the meticulous perioperative record of all anaesthetists.

As fascinating as Dwight was finding this, he still could not quite concentrate. To his surprise, Caroline had sat down right next to him on the bench, and a rather significant part of his brain was given over to the scent of her perfume, and the places where her arm and her knee touched his. Every time he glanced at her, however, she was staring into the theatre, rapt. It was only natural, Mr Worthing was her patient too. Dwight tried not to stare at her for too long, despite the way the bright surgical lights shining through the glass partition lit up her face and her golden hair.

“And that…is that. Of course, as with all grafts, we shall have to monitor Mr Worthing carefully before we can know if the procedure was a success, but we have completed today’s elements without complication and we can now begin transferring Mr Worthing into recovery. Thank you all for attending today.” A few of the students applauded, and Francis chuckled. Some of them lingered to watch the final parts of the procedure, but most began to file out, standing and stretching. The doctors all made for the door, as well, and Dwight stood to follow Caroline.

“Well, what did you think?” He almost started as she spoke to him when they got out into the corridor.

“Oh, er, very impressive. I’ve never seen an OOKP before, haven’t even read about one since medical school.”

“Me neither, but Francis is a bit of a specialist – this is his sixth, I believe.”

“Wow.” Dwight knew Francis was of some repute in his field, even at his relatively young age for a consultant, but he’d had no idea about that. Francis had practiced with a noted Professor of Opthalmology in Edinburgh for some years before returning to Cornwall, presumably he’d worked on the procedure there. Dwight made a mental note to ask him about it.

“Well, I er, I’d best be getting home. Horace is well past his walk, he’ll be driving Uncle Ray mad.” Caroline glanced at her watch. Dwight did likewise and was shocked to realise the time – they’d been in there for almost six hours! He’d been so fascinated – both by the surgery and by Caroline’s nearness – that he hadn’t noticed at all. Well, at least all the racket at home should be over by now. At least, he hoped so, since he had a proper shift in just over fourteen hours, and his sleep schedule was completely out of whack.

“How is Horace?” It was a monumentally stupid question, but for some reason he’d asked it anyway. To his surprise, Caroline smiled.

“Do you like dogs, Dr Enys?” From anyone else, the use of his proper title and surname might have seemed dismissive or overly formal, but in Caroline’s gentle tones it sounded almost enticing.  

“A bit. My aunt had one, a Pomeranian named Fifi. She used to take fits whenever Aunt Mary played the piano. I don’t know if she was musically inclined or the opposite.” Caroline gave that wonderful laugh again, and a proper, wide smile which just about floored him.

“I really should go. See you around, maybe.”

“Yeah, see you.” With another quick smile, she was gone, heading back towards her own department. He watched her until she disappeared around the corner at the end of the corridor.

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch. 8

Carolight Hospital AU

Ch.8 - Caroline Penvenen is a successful, capable doctor...and she also just might be an idiot.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

~

“Killewarren has been in the Penvenen family since 1621, when Rafe Penvenen was granted the estate by King James I in recognition of his military service…” Caroline let the tour guide’s voice drift off, only vaguely registering the familiar words about how the house had survived the Civil War and Rafe’s son William had sheltered royalists behind its excellent defences…Eventually the voice disappeared as the tour group reached the end of the corridor where they would go down into the old kitchens and learn about the ancient range and how many servants the house once had.

By some miracle, the Penvenen family had managed to hold onto their ancestral home, but like almost every other country estate in the nowadays, it was open to the public. Caroline had got quite used to the visitors when she was a little girl, creeping up to the section of gallery which led into the private apartments and overlooked the great hall to peep down at them trooping through, gawping at the paintings and being told not to touch the antiques by the attendants. When she was a bit more grown up, and given free reign of the house, she’d even joined in with them on occasion, playing with the other children or taking a bit of naughty joy in clattering around in the old servant’s corridor upstairs when the guide told their group it was allegedly haunted.

It seemed like another world, growing up in a house like this, something she hadn’t properly realised until she went to university, where even some of her poshest fellow students couldn’t dream of such a thing. She’d found out to her surprise that the Trenwith Hotel a few miles away had once been the estate of the Poldark family, sold off by Francis and Verity’s great-grandparents after the Great War, and that Cardew, now some sort of religious retreat, had been built by George’s ancestors. The Warleggans, having made their money in banking, hadn’t gone bust, however, and instead moved into a jaw-dropping townhouse in Truro, where George’s mother and grandmother still lived. Even George and Elizabeth’s gorgeous place wasn’t a patch on it.

The introductory speech of another tour guide startled Caroline out of her reverie. How long had she been standing there, staring at the small semi-circular window high above the main entrance? Thankfully, she was mostly concealed from those in the hall, unless someone knew she was there. Again, she heard the words about how long the house had been in the family – but for how much longer? Aside from the cost and effort of managing the place, she was the last Penvenen. Once she inherited the house – and she prayed that would not be for a long time – it had nowhere to go after that. If she had children, it would still be in the family, she supposed, just without the Penvenen name.

Of course, she’d never thought much about having children, and considering the state of her private life, it didn’t look much likely in the immediate future. Here she was, moping unproductively about her Uncle’s house on her day off in the wake of yet another romantic disaster.

Romantic disaster? That was stretching it a bit. She could hardly call a few conversations, one date and one kiss – God, a really good kiss – a ‘romance’. It was barely even a dalliance, to use a word straight out of her aunt’s collection of old Mills & Boon novels.

At a gentle nudge to her ankle, she glanced down to find Horace snuffling at her leg. He plopped his fat bottom on the carpet and looked up at her expectantly, his whole body jiggling as he tried to wag his little stump of a tail while sitting down.

“What, then, my precious? Do you want a walk, hmm?” Horace was generally a lazy creature, his preferred leisure activity being lying on the most comfortable surface he could find – aside from eating, of course. However, he seemed to like Killewarren, the gardens being rather more interesting than the plain little park around the corner from Caroline’s flat. It meant mingling with the visitors, but that was all right – dogs were allowed in the gardens so she just looked like another day tripper.

After he’d made friends with an Alsatian at the water gardens, been petted by and starred in the selfies of three young American girls, and weed on a stone bench right next to a very unimpressed old lady, Caroline took Horace on a loop around the large gravel driveway-come-car-park. They were just on their way back, Horace puffing and snorting in that way which meant he’d had quite enough exercise for today – or this month – when there was a shout from up ahead.

“Help! Somebody call an ambulance!” Pausing to scoop up Horace, who snuffed in indignation, Caroline hurried toward the voice. Just by the entrance to the estate’s old chapel, a middle aged man was half-slumped against the stone wall, a woman about his age crouched next to him. Caroline dropped to her knees beside them, setting Horace on his feet as gently as possible. She was vaguely aware of him tottering off behind her, but she didn’t worry. He wouldn’t go far.

“What happened?” The woman looked at her, bewildered and panicked. Caroline took hold of her arm, trying to ground her, make her focus. “I’m a doctor. Tell me what happened.”

“He – he just collapsed. He said his chest hurt, but I just thought that was because we’d been walking all day.”

“Does he have any medical conditions?” Caroline took the man’s pulse – it was thready and weak, but it was there. He was sweaty and pale, and breathing heavily. His eyelids flickered but he seemed barely conscious.

“A mild heart murmur, but it’s never given him any problems before.”

“I’ve called an ambulance.” One of the tour guides appeared behind Caroline, holding a mobile phone.

“Are you still on the line?” The guide nodded and Caroline held out her hand for the phone. “Hello, this is Dr Caroline Penvenen. I’ve got a male, 50s, previous history of heart murmur, pulse weak, breathing difficulties and semi-conscious. What’s his name?”

“Oh.” It took the woman a moment to realise Caroline was addressing her. “Peter.”

“Peter? Peter, can you hear me?” A wheeze which may have been a response, and his eyelids flickered again. Caroline handed the phone back to the attendant. Another had joined her and Caroline turned to him. “Is there a first aid kit at the front desk? Does it have aspirin?”

“Er, yes.”

“Bring it, please.”

By the time the ambulance arrived, thankfully promptly, Caroline had put Peter in the recovery position. She hadn’t used in the aspirin in the end, partly because he was not quite conscious enough to take it, but also because she wasn’t entirely convinced he was having a heart attack.

The paramedics agreed, and indeed once they’d got him hooked up to the monitors in the rig, his heart rate seemed to be slightly improved. Peter’s wife – Julie – held tightly to his hand as Caroline and one of the medics worked to make sure he was stable. Caroline hadn’t dealt with anything close to an emergency – bar once giving a girl at a nightclub an epi pen – since her foundation training, but she found that adrenaline, well perhaps not quite adrenaline but something like it, had taken over.

“Where we headed?” The medic called up to the driver.

“ETA 10 mins. St Neot’s A&E.” 

~

The maternity ward was blessedly cool – and quiet – when Caroline pushed open the doors. Quiet moans emanated from one of the rooms, along with a gentle male voice – whether medic or unusually chilled out expectant father Caroline couldn’t say. A nurse popped up from behind the desk, startling her.

“Sorry! Oh, hello, Dr Penvenen. Are you wanting Elizabeth – Dr. Warleggan, I mean.”

“If she’s free.” She wasn’t really sure why she’d made her way up here, but she was feeling a bit off and instinct had taken her to her best friend.

“She is. Or, at least, I think she is. Her and Verity are out in the staff corridor, last I saw them. They’re taking a break.” Passing several more rooms, the sounds of voices –cursing, cooing, the cries of newborns – floating around inside, Caroline made her way to small, discreet door marked ‘Hospital Personnel Only’. When the nurse had said Elizabeth and Verity were in the corridor, she hadn’t been kidding. The two women sat on the floor, backs against the wall, legs extended in front of them. Caroline pushed aside a recollection of the scene she’d witnessed in the A&E corridor a few days earlier.

“Caroline! What are you doing here? I thought you were off today.” Elizabeth frowned, sipping her cheap vending machine tea.

“Oh, I was.” Caroline replied airily. “But what’s up with you two?”

“Two breech births this morning.” Verity replied. “Everyone okay, but both mums stressed out as Hell.”

“And then an overly-keen dad with an iPhone tripped me up and I fell in the birthing pool.” Elizabeth pursed her lips as Verity chuckled. Even in her odd mood, Caroline couldn’t help a grin at the thought of that. Now she looked, she could see Elizabeth’s hair was wet. “I hate water births.”

“Poor baby.” Caroline patted her on the shoulder as she sat down next to her. After all the morning’s excitement, she suddenly felt very drained. Elizabeth looked like she was about to say something when her phone trilled and she slipped it out of the top pocket of her scrubs. Her face took on a familiar affectionate expression as she read the message. “Oh, love’s young dream…”

“Oh, shush. George is just asking what I want him to make for dinner tonight.”

“Handsome, rich, a doctor, good dad and he can cook.” Verity shook her head. “The rest of us might as well just give up. Elizabeth’s won.”

“Stop it. Here, watch this.” Elizabeth fiddled with the screen for a moment and Caroline and Verity both leant in to look. The video began to play, blurred for a second as it zoomed in on Elizabeth, kneeling on the floor of what looked like her living room, holding Ursula up in front of her.

“Go on, go to Daddy. Go to Daddy.” She gently lifted her hands from under the baby’s arms, but kept them close by.

“Come on, Ursula, come to me. Come here.” George appeared at the far side of the frame, crouched down a couple of feet away, arms open in invitation. Slowly, Ursula took a wobbly step forward, then another, then another, Elizabeth keeping close behind her.

“Go on, Ursula, clever girl.” A third voice from behind the camera. Morwenna.

With the encouragement of her parents and her cousin, Ursula tottered the final couple of steps, to be scooped up in George’s arms, giggling delightedly at her achievement.

“Oh, she’s so cute! And she’s walking early!” Verity cooed.

“Earlier than Valentine, although it didn’t take him long to get going. He went straight from first steps to 100m sprint.” She laughed fondly, putting her phone away. The three of them sat quietly for a while, apart from Verity ‘yeuch’-ing at the dregs of her tea, before Elizabeth seemed to remember something. “Caro, you never told us why you’re here.”

“Oh, it’s a long story…” She explained about her visit to Killewarren, and Peter and Julie.

“Wow, it’s a good job you were there. Heart attack, was it?”

“No, angina, by the look of it. He was looking a lot better when I left, but they’ve sent him to the cardiac ward for proper tests to get to the bottom of it.”

“Well. Still. Angina might not be a heart attack, but it’s no laughing matter. You really did brilliantly.”

“Bet Dwight was impressed.” Verity teased. Caroline must have made a face, because the other two immediately frowned at her.

“What’s the matter?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Caroline attempted to affect a casual air, even though she knew they’d see through it. It was habit, and a difficult one to break. “I just think Dwight and I aren’t destined for anything.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, him cosying up to a cute nurse two days after our first date might have something to do with it.”

“Dwight?!” Verity shook her head. “No way. There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake. I saw it with my own two eyes.” She told them about going down to A&E after hearing about the scaffolding collapse, and seeing Dwight and Rosina in a close embrace on the floor of the corridor. It had been pure instinct which sent her down there, remembering the slightly haunted look she’d seen flicker over his light eyes when he spoke about his time with MSF, and his reaction to the stab victim the day she’d bumped into him in the coffee shop. Walking into the corridor, she’d stopped short, feeling stupid and presumptive and a dozen other things; so she’d done what she always did when confronted with difficult feelings – she’d walked away.

“So.” Verity frowned. “You’ve decided to call it a day with a very eligible man you clearly like very much…because you saw a colleague give him a quick hug after an extremely stressful shift?”

“Er…” Hearing it put like that, Caroline recalled the off-hand way she’d dealt with Dwight over admitting Peter, giving him purely the cold facts before striding away without so much as a by-your-leave. She looked at her friends, at their incredulous expressions, and fought the urge to put her head in her hands.      

[anoddbunch]

She's laughing and she feels so light just standing there. Of course being outside the house felt more open, felt more free. Within that house Caroline felt stifled, even a little bit suppressed if she was being honest with herself. And she liked the look on his face, the bright eyed look that his laughing gave to him. He was quite honesty one of the most beautiful men that she had ever seen in her life. Not that she would tell him that. Well, not yet.

"I think that it's really the best I've felt in awhile." but then she noticed that there was a mist of rain coming down rather suddenly. She looked up at the sky with a breath of a laugh and then turned to look at him. "As long as you don't mind the rain coming down. That was unexpected."

they make it through the back door without any hassle. and then they're running. he has her by the arm, helping her along as much as he can. he only just realizes once they're pulled aside that he hasn't done up his shirt completely. he sets his hands on her shoulder. he lets out a laugh. then lifts his eyes to her face. he's smiling. she looks a little breathless, her hairs come a little down. she looks - well, light, she looks perfectly beautiful, doesn't she?

"how's it feel to be --- absconded?" he asks before he starts on laughing again. but it felt good, didn't it? to get out of that house. to be alone like this with her. this was dangerous. he knew that. he had built himself up pretty good since he had arrived here. not that he would ever be accepted in spite of his money. but he knew more than anything that this could be some mistake for her. not that he was interested in taking her back any time soon.

[anoddbunch]

Surprise filled her eyes as she stared up into his eyes. Of course she understood why he said it. If they were discovered together then her reputation would be tarnished. Her uncle would be mortified and she would be the subject of gossip for sometime. Mat, however, had not even done a single thing untoward her. As though something like that would ever be believed.

"Are you planning to abscond with me, Mr. Cauthon?" She questioned with a mischievous glint in her eyes but then she carefully clutched to his sleeve to tug him with her. "Come, there's a door at the back, it's for the maids but no one will be there at this time of night. let's not tarry." and then she was off, a soft laugh trailing behind her as she led the way.

he takes a couple steps closer to her. even more aware now that they are alone in this room. that if they were discovered like this it would be ruinous for her, wouldn't it? he stands in front of her just looking at her. he swallows harshly, the heat spreading over his whole body. it compels him to start on lacing his shirt back up again. but he still looks at her, feeling the challenge of her words.

"you're right." he knows what's on the line here. he had expressed some interest in her much to her family's horror. they would never condone even an acquaintanceship between the two of them. and here they were alone. and here he was thinking of stealing her away for a couple hours. he reaches down to take her hand into his. "is there a way out of here that no one will see us?"

[xradiant]

She feels startled the moment that he speaks and she looks at him without speaking for a long time. He probably thought that she looked ridiculous standing there without words, unsure what to do with her hands, not sure how to respond. Of course his offer was rather in line with her projected reputation but, really, her nerves were a chaotic mess inside of her. She was nervous, she was inexperienced and once he found that out Mat was going to be bored indeed.

"We could do that." She answered with a simple nod of her head, lowering her eyes down to her own clasped hands. "I think that would be most shocking actually." A small grin marked her lips as she looked back up at him again. "When should we leave? Surely leaving now would be far better than dallying here talking about it."

he feels a thickness to the air between them and he's not sure how to get his head on right now. just looking at her, the ghost of her hand on his skin. he has to swallow down the feeling. his smile remains though, steady and sure of himself. he hadn't been lying after all. he had won the fight by pretty good margin. and he can't help but wonder what she might think if he were to take her off with him. maybe they could do their best attempt at making her look like a boy. a terribly difficult task but they might be able to manage. he wonders at what sort of fire would light up in her eyes at seeing a world she hadn't.

"well..." he says, trying to think of the right way to edge along the offer. he doesn't want to offend her. although he's sure that there are times that caroline wants to be 'offended" just for the sake of it. "...you could stop by the place with me to see if he's there. i'm sure the bastard -" a small pause, his eyes moving over her face just so he can see what sort of reaction she had to that. "-- still looks as bad as i left him."

[xradiant]

She had almost hoped that the fool of a man would have stopped her from touching him and taken her hand himself. Instead she was stuck being fascinated by this gangly bruise that she thought a rather ugly addition to his otherwise marvelous physique. She uses the tip of her nail to the trace the shape of it, which just briefly grazes his hand.

"I do believe that most men would make that claim." She told him with an amused smile marked there across her face. "However, I think that I shall take you at your word and accept that you were a much better fighter.' She smiled at that and stepped back from him, clasping her hands together now that she had regrettably drawn back from him.

he hadn't expected her to reach out and touch him. the soft warmth of her hand on his skin sends a shiver down his back. he swallows harshly as he looks down at her. a slight hitch to his breathing. his eyes move over her face. he has to remind himself to relax. but he feels a bit tense. he has to remind himself that it's just a bloody hand after all. how many women had touched him just like that? but it seemed different now with the the two of them there together. alone. they were completely and entirely alone in this room.

he lets out a breath of a laugh and that helps easing him a little bit. he almost reaches for her hand. but he knows how ridiculous that would be. so he doesn't do it. instead he reaches down to touch over the end of the bruise. it's still slightly tender to touch. but he doesn't show that. he doesn't want her to see that he's even a little bit phased by it. "well, let me tell you the other guy was a lot worse off than i was."

[xradiant]

She's more than surprised by the fact that he had leapt up to his feet and started on working on undoing the shirt that he was wearing. Her eyes widened some and a flush rushed to her face. She had never been fully alone with a man when her uncle wasn't around much less a man with an opened shirt. However Caroline couldn't just let that fact out given the way that she tried so hard to make her reputation. She was a worldly woman and she managed to shock no matter what.

Finally he showed her his bruise and her eyes widened at the sight of it causing her to rise up to her feet. She reached her hand out and gingerly she touched her fingertips to the bruise there across his stomach. "That looks painful." She said with widened eyes as she looked up at him. "How do you manage?"

now she must be really teasing him, isn't she? there's something playful in that little smile that she gives him just then, the tone in her voice drives him further. but he feels a sudden flush of heat rush over him, his heart picks up a bit. and when he lets out a small laugh he has to look away from her unless she gets the funny idea that he might actually be nervous. there wasn't a bloody thing to be nervous about! he wasn't nervous in the slightest. that wasn't what this was.

"you want to see them, huh?" he asks with a laugh as he moves to stand up. the heats still beating a little restless there at the back of his neck. but he does his best to not let that show. he's not nervous. maybe it's just getting a little hot in this room. he rubs at his neck before lowering his hands to start to unlace the shirt he has on, not removing his coat or his unbuttoned vest. he was often told he came to these places looking like a bum. his shoulders ease just a little bit then as he lets his shirt open to show his stomach and the rather large blue and purple bruise that had formed there on his skin. "i told you i wasn't making any of it up."

[xradiant]

Oh, he was made to talk, wasn't he? With all these fascinating little stories and the way that he seemed to be more than invested by what he was saying. She liked the sound of his voice and the smile on his face as he talked. She wasn't even sure if everything that he said was the truth or not but what she did know was that she wanted it all to be true. In fact she wanted to experience what he was talking about. If she were a man those things that he spoke about were the things that she had also wanted to experience as well. But of course given the tight ropes of society Caroline was forbidden from doing most of it. She liked to test her boundaries. But only so far.

She made a show of thinking about it, tapping her finger to her chin thoughtfully before a smile grew across her lips. "How about those bruises." She suggested, leaving no room - absolutely none! - for him to deny her. She would like to see those bruises. Men were always so eager to hide things like that from women and she found it downright insulting. "If they are really there that is."

he likes the little glint she gets in her eyes when he tells her about things like that. it feels like she's hanging on his every word, the way she watches, the small part of her lips, the furrow to her brow. he could get lost in that feeling. having her so focused on him that sometimes when he looks at her the breath leaves him. and he wants nothing mote than to just stop talking and lean in a little closer to her. feel the touch of her hand, the warmth of her breath, the thought starts a heat at the back of his neck. he shouldn't think like that but it all lingers even when he meets her eyes. but he has to brush that aside. in spite of everything he knows that caroline is a good girl, better than perhaps she lets on about. she's part of the elite, there was no way she was going to let him just take her up in his arms right now and kiss her.

he smiles at her, leaning forward because he wants to get a better look at that pretty face at her's. his eyes search his. she's beautiful, too beautiful for him to be sitting here talking. he almost looks away but he finds that's kind of impossible, isn't it? caroline was made to be looked at. "well, what do you want to hear about first? the card games i won, the dancing i did, or about the fist fight that nearly put an end to my night. think i still got a couple good bruises on my stomach if you wanna see them."