Martin Ellingham wore his business suits like knights wear their chain mail and armor. For protection. Anyone could insult him, denigrate him, swear at him, you name it and it would bounce off that suit and never touch the individual wearing it. Making matters worse would be that polite 'Thank you' he'd
launch right back at each insult as if nothing could ever faze him.
Ellingham had built up such defensive walls around himself that very little ever got past him. A beastly father, a cold-hearted nightmare for a mother, boarding schools, embarrassments, insecurities, abuses. All of it had lead to the uptight, unhappy and generally grouchy individual the adult had become. He retreated into his profession as further protection, mastering it and wielding his knowledge with an experts ability. Being a surgeon had protected him from having to interact too much with people, especially patients. He abhorred social interaction, preferring to see the blind truth and say it, if necessary. He avoided social gatherings and emotional attachments like both had the plague. He was fine and well, until two things happened...
The blood phobia and Louisa Glasson.
That inexplicable, unexplainable reaction he had developed in his high pressure job had sent him into a tailspin, forcing him to leave his position and take up being a GP in Portwenn. He'd managed it though, despite insulting nearly the entirety of the village. Grudgingly a mutual respect developed between the townsfolk and their chronically grumpy GP. They knew he was the best thing around if you needed a doctor, and he was adjusting to the change in settings.
But then there was Louisa...
When it came to 'matters of the heart' Ellingham knew he was out of his depths. Sure he'd had relations with other women, mostly those who were in the same profession as himself and never with any attachments involved. Brilliant and equally ambitious women who didn't mind an occasional 'fling' as it were. Martin didn't have to let down his guard with them. There was no attachments involved. And that kept him safe, protected.
Until he had gone and actually met someone he knew he was falling in love with.
Suddenly he was in something completely out of his depths. The blood phobia was nothing when confronted with the need to actually have to express something he wanted emotionally but had little to no ability to say it. Unless he was drunk and he knew that would just lead to yet another embarrassing moment of passing out. He could even control -to a certain extent- the nausea and vomiting associated by having to deal with blood when necessity and emergency demanded he practise his vocation to save the life of another.
But when it came to expressing himself an all new fear reared its ugly head. A fear he knew he had to confront but had no ability to conquer.
And it all formed itself in the person of Louisa Glasson.
In one, somewhat uninhibited, moment, she had gotten some wine into him and was telling him to keep his mouth shut. Martin finally found the courage to tell her she was beautiful and that he; cold, stuck up, arrogant, Martin Ellingham, loved her.
Part of that admission had been a revelation, to them both... the repercussions were something else altogether. It was out in the open now and he had no idea how to deal with it. All he could do was stumble forward, more often then not insulting his way ahead, or embarrassing himself to mortifying depths. He knew he had to do something, anything, to let Louisa know what she really meant to him, but every time his fears, his armor, his defenses prevented him from making much progress.
So he escaped behind that suit and that grumpy demeanor he had so carefully built around himself for protection and he would watch, unable to express himself, as Louisa would continue to slip from his grasp...
