Medicine and Manners #2 (16 page)

BOOK: Medicine and Manners #2
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“Lord Dunsford,” Constable Snow said when he was close enough. “You must turn your carriage around toward Foulness.”

“Foulness? That's almost an hour away. Dr. Gladstone needs help immediately.”

“I know. Young Rob told me,” Snow said, his voice tense, “but that's the location of the nearest doctor.”

Nicholas started to protest that Nancy could provide the service needed, but he stopped himself, not wanting to mention it aloud for Alexandra to hear, should she awaken. His effort was wasted. Alexandra lifted her head from his shoulder.

“No,” she said. Her voice sounded even more strained than it had before. “Nancy can do what needs…” Her voice trailed off, making it clear that she was in too much pain to speak.

“I'm afraid that's not possible,” Snow said. “Nancy is missing.”

Alexandra's eyes widened. “Missing?” she asked. She was obviously in a state of confusion as a result of her ordeal.

“We will begin a search for her immediately,” Snow barked. “What you must do is get your leg seen to as soon as possible.”

Nicholas had already pulled the horses into a turn before Alexandra could protest more. Zack, seeing the carriage turn, barked a confused protest.

“Rob!” Nicholas shouted. “See to the dog. He's not well enough to follow.”

Rob dismounted quickly and threw his arms around Zack's neck. The big dog did his best to free himself, but Rob held on firmly as Zack used his considerable strength to try to shake free. He was even able to drag Rob a short distance.

As they rode away, Nicholas could hear Zack's alarmed bark. He wanted to be with his injured mistress. In time he heard a mournful howl as the horses increased the distance between them.

Chapter 17

A woman with two mouths and no eyes smiled at Alexandra. The woman dissolved into the shape of a horse twisted in a circle. There was a droning sound, as if a thousand bees were buzzing. The sound grew louder and louder before it stopped abruptly.

Alexandra opened her eyes and heard someone speak. “She's waking up!” It was a voice she didn't recognize.

“Her eyes look quite odd. Pupils extraordinarily dilated.” She knew that voice. It belonged to someone called Nicholas. Or Lord Something-or-Other. Now he was gone from her vision. There were only dancing lights in front of her.

“She'll come around presently, but it takes a while. I gave her a mixture of ipecacuanha and opium as an anesthesia so I could examine her leg and make certain it was set properly. Only a small dose, though. As you can see, she's already awakening.” The voice came from one of the dancing lights—a green one that had grown an uncommonly large mouth.

“Alexandra?”

She turned her head toward the sound of her name. It was Nicholas. The features of his face began to take shape in the green light.

“Alexandra, my dear. You're going to be all right.”

“Yes, my darling, I'm going to be quite all right,” she said. She felt someone squeeze her hand and brush her forehead with a kiss. Then she slept.

She had no way of knowing how long she slept, but when she awakened, she saw Nicholas seated in a chair next to the bed. She couldn't remember at first why she was here in this strange room. When she tried to get up, a jolt of pain in her leg brought back a memory of her injured limb and her attempt to make a splint from a tree branch.

“Where am I?” Her lips and throat were parched, making it impossible to form words properly.

“You're in Dr. Abercrombie's surgery,” Nicholas said.

“Abercrombie? I have heard of…Do I know him?”

“He's a physician here in Foulness. I brought you here so he could examine your leg. Apparently, you did a fine job setting it yourself. Abercrombie was quite impressed.”

“Rob said he was a quack.” She was surprised to hear herself using that word.

“Don't worry, I've checked his credentials. He's quite capable of setting a broken leg,” Nicholas said.

“Why didn't you allow Nancy…” Her voice trailed off.

“Try not to be upset. Constable Snow is searching for her.”

She tried to get up. A sickening pain in her head momentarily blinded her and forced her down again.

“Alexandra, please…” She felt Nicholas's hand encircling hers, and his other hand gently easing her shoulders down.

“I must find her,” Alexandra said. “That person with the knife. Did he attack her?”

Then the room revolved before it floated away. She saw nothing after that except visions of Nancy with a knife stuck in her chest.

—

Nicholas held a cup of cold water to her lips. “Ah, you're awake again. You were having nightmares—crying and mumbling. Here, drink this.”

The sky had begun to darken before Alexandra felt herself awake again. She asked Nicholas to go over in detail everything that had happened, and she, in turn, was able to tell him everything she remembered.

By the time they had finished their accounting, Dr. Abercrombie had entered. He was wearing a white apron over his suit, and a stethoscope hung around his neck. The apron was soiled with blood. “You're awake, I see, but with considerable pain, I would imagine.”

“Some, yes.” Alexandra knew if she complained too much, she'd be confined longer.

“Allow me to compliment you on the splint and bandage you somehow managed to provide for yourself. I dare say not many of us could do that.”

Alexandra thanked him for the compliment and started to ask him to help her up, but Dr. Abercrombie interrupted. “Your early attention quite possibly ensured that you will be able to walk on the leg again, albeit with a limp.”

“I fully intend to walk normally,” Alexandra said.

“My dear, you must be grateful to walk at all, whether it be normal or not.”

“I believe I should attempt to stand by tomorrow. Without weight on the leg, of course.”

“Certainly not!” Abercrombie said. “You are a physician, and if you received the proper training, you should know a broken leg demands complete bed rest for several weeks.”

“Of course I know that is the standard procedure,” Alexandra said, sounding defensive, “but my experience has taught me that early, brief attempts at standing help overall health. I've also observed that some weight on the leg after a few weeks helps strengthen supporting muscles.”

“While you are in my care, you will be treated not according to someone's dubious experiments but by standard and proven medical procedures,” Abercrombie said in a voice devoid of sympathy.

Alexandra pressed her lips together to keep from arguing, telling herself that the more she protested, the more difficult her stay would be. At the same time, she knew with certainty that her stay would be no longer than a few more hours after dawn arrived.

“I understand that I am in Foulness,” Alexandra said, hoping a change of subject would diffuse the tension she'd created.

“You are, indeed.” Abercrombie's tone was one of superiority.

“Were you by any chance acquainted with the late George Payne?”

Abercrombie lifted his chin and nose higher. “Why do you ask?”

“His daughter, Judith, lives in Newton-upon-Sea.”

“Indeed she does,” Abercrombie said. “I know her well. Knew her father equally well, if you must know. Tragic! So tragic!”

“His suicide, you mean,” Nicholas said.

“My good man, it was most certainly not a suicide,” Abercrombie scolded.

Nicholas shot Alexandra a quick glance. “Not a suicide?”

“I have not seen the body, mind you,” Abercrombie said. “It was our local law enforcement who proclaimed the death a suicide, but that was most certainly a mistake. I should have been called. Constables and the like are usually ill trained in such matters, as are some doctors, I might add.”

“May I ask how you've come to this conclusion that it was not suicide? And how your constable came to his conclusion that it was?” Nicholas asked. The questions had come so quickly, Alexandra sensed that he was attempting to make sure she didn't speak up and cause another argument. She was content to stay out of it if it would hasten her opportunity to leave, and she knew Nicholas would ask all of the questions she would have asked and more. She had his training as a barrister to thank for that.

“As I said, I knew the family well. George Payne was an honorable man. He would never have stooped to the cowardly act of suicide. He was murdered.”

“By your own admission, you didn't see the body,” Nicholas said. “How—”

Abercrombie raised his voice a decibel higher, “George Payne was a loyal Freemason, a Grand Master. Why, he was even wearing his Masonic apron when he died. Smeared with his own blood, the constable said.” Abercrombie snorted, a derisive sound. “How he came to the conclusion of suicide is beyond me, since there was said to be no wound. The constable claims he took poison and vomited the blood. Rubbish, I say. Complete rubbish. I should have been called to examine the body.”

Nicholas frowned. “Even his own daughter believes it was suicide.”

Abercrombie closed his eyes as if he were struggling to be tolerant of the ignorance surrounding him. “His daughter is female. She is, by that very nature, hysterical and unreliable in her judgment. I believe Mr. Payne would have agreed with me on that point. They didn't get along at all, you know.”

“Do you know the nature of their disagreements?” Alexandra asked, regretting it when she saw the acrimonious glance Abercrombie shot in her direction.

“I do, but I refuse to go into detail, since I am not one to gossip. Suffice it to say that young Judith was quite rebellious, a most disagreeable characteristic in any offspring, and particularly a daughter. She insisted upon making all of her own decisions. Everything from what she wore and where she lived to whom she married. Quite like her mother, I believe. In short, the rift between father and daughter was, in this case, quite clearly the daughter's fault.”

“Surely you don't think the disagreement was so severe as to bring about murder,” Nicholas said.

Abercrombie stared at Nicholas, speechless, for a few seconds before he spoke. “She is unruly, Mr. Forsythe, but she is not insane, and she most certainly could not be a murderess.”

Alexandra noticed that the doctor had addressed Nicholas as Mr. Forsythe rather than Lord Dunsford. That was obviously the way Nicholas had introduced himself. Nicholas seemed to have a sixth sense as to when the title would serve him and when it would not. He was, nevertheless, unruffled by Abercrombie's superior manner.

“Are there others, then, who might be suspect?” Nicholas asked.

Abercrombie snapped at him, “Of course there are others. Aren't there always? Brother Payne's unfortunate financial situation put him in contact with some of those in the seamy side of life, although he himself was from the best of families. One never knows about some classes, does one?”

“Could you suspect anyone in Newton-upon-Sea?”

“Perhaps. I know there was…Well, never mind. Almost anyone could be suspect, I suppose. With the exception of most members of the brotherhood, including myself. We are a small lodge, compared to the Ninth Daughter in Newton-upon-Sea, but quite honorable and devoted to each other. Are you a member of the Ninth Daughter, by any chance?”

“I spend most of my time in London, where I have a law practice,” Nicholas said with careful evasiveness.

“A solicitor?”

“Yes,” Nicholas said, not bothering to add that he was also a barrister.

“Indeed,” Abercrombie said. “Perhaps you could answer a question I have concerning property I own. There is a minor dispute over a boundary, you see, and…”

Abercrombie went on to explain a rather complicated matter to Nicholas, seeking his free advice. It was at least an hour later, and Alexandra was growing tired, before he left with an apology that she would have to stay in the examination room overnight since there was no hospital in Foulness.

“I shall have to find you someone in a private residence who will be willing to take you in,” he said.

—

Rob watched as the morning light sifting through the window grew stronger and stronger. He had slept little during the night, but Artie, who shared the sleeping quarters above the Gladstone stables, was sleeping soundly, his arm thrown across the wide expanse of Zack's back. The dog hadn't wanted to go up to the stable living quarters at first, but they had finally persuaded him with the help of a sizable and meaty beef bone Rob took from the kitchen. The bone had been cooked in a stew and was still unspoiled and had a few scraps of meat still attached. He'd taken the stew, along with a bit of bread and leftover sausage for himself and Artie.

Rob was reasonably certain both Nancy and Dr. Gladstone knew he could enter the house at will, even when the door was locked, but they'd never protested because he'd never misused that ability. They knew he'd learned questionable skills, such as how to enter a house undetected, when he was trying to survive on the streets and along the docks of Newton-upon-Sea. That learning experience had begun when he was younger than Artie was now. Nance and the doc knew all about it. Yet both of the women trusted him. He'd never do anything to betray that trust, but he'd never let Zack or Artie go hungry, either.

Zack hadn't slept particularly well during the night. All night long, he kept going to the window to look out as if to see whether Nance and the doc were finally home. At least he'd devoured that bone with enthusiasm. A good sign that he was getting over his sick spell, Rob thought. Poisoned, the doc said. Who would do a thing like that? Some no-good bloody bastard, that's who.

Zack stirred, twitching his feet a little, then raised his head. He looked at Rob a few seconds before he maneuvered himself into a standing position. He looked around, sniffing the air for the scent of the two women who cared for him.

Rob felt fairly confident that Dr. Gladstone would be well cared for. Lord Dunsford would see to that. He seemed like a decent bloke, and it was clear he fancied the doc. Nance was another matter. He was worried about her something awful. She'd never stay away this long unless something bad had happened. Like being kidnapped or dead. Rob pushed those thoughts from his mind and tried to think of what he should do.

The simple answer was to go find her, but where to start looking? Artie said she must have left the house to search for the doc. She knew where the doc was supposed to be, so she would have covered the same ground he and Lord Dunsford had covered looking for both of them. They'd searched a lot of territory, and there'd been no sign of Nance. If there was no body, mayhap she'd been kidnapped after all. That made no sense, though, because there was no reason to kidnap her. The only thing that made sense was to go search for her again. If Zack was well enough, he could take him along. That nose of his was worth the dog's weight in gold when it came to finding things.

Besides not knowing where to start looking, there was another problem: Artie. Rob saw that he was still asleep, his hair tousled, his arm still flung out where Zack had been. Sleep made his face appear even younger than his years. It was hard to believe he was already eight years old. It seemed to Rob it was only yesterday when he found him shivering in the rain and trying to stay dry in an old broken-down shipping crate that had washed ashore.

“What ye doin' here?” Rob had asked him.

“Nuffin,” the boy had answered.

“Git on home. Yer mum'll be worried.”

Rob had already started to walk away when Artie said, “Got no mum.”

Rob paused for a second. He hadn't wanted to care what happened to the boy, even if he didn't have a mother. He had problems enough of his own. In spite of himself, he'd turned around and pulled the boy out of the crate and got him to the empty shed at the end of a row of docks where there were other boys who lived on the streets, trying to stay warm and dry.

BOOK: Medicine and Manners #2
10.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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