Medicine and Manners #2 (9 page)

“Ye's wrong, sir, the lady doctor ain't in there!” This was Rob's voice, as loud as that of the man he was confronting.

“She's in there, all right! That beast of a dog, he's always where she is,” another man yelled. “See 'im? 'E's out here waitin' for her.”

“Stop hittin' that door. Ye's sure to break it if you don't stop!” Artie's little-boy voice could barely be heard above the sound of the other shouts and the hammering on the door.

There was more pounding, more shouts from the mob.

“They've got Rob!” Nancy screamed and backed away from the window.

Alexandra lunged for the door, but backed away when she saw a chip of wood fall from the facing where the hinge was attached.

“Stay here, both of you!” Nicholas said, striding toward the back door. “Stay away from that door.”

Alexandra started to protest, but Nicholas had already disappeared into the embalming room, headed for the back exit.

“What can we do?” Nancy's voice was strained.

Before Alexandra could reply, the door bulged inward as another loud and forceful blow came from the outside. Nancy screamed, and Alexandra reached for her to pull her close. “We have to stay calm,” she said. She felt anything but calm. She was torn between staying inside as Nicholas had commanded and trying to rescue Rob.

She made her way to the window and saw Rob struggling to free himself from the grip of two men. They'd forced his arms behind his back, and she could hear his cries of pain. Nicholas appeared suddenly, emerging from the back of the building.

“Stop! Stop in the name of the queen's court!” Nicholas shouted.

“ 'Tis his lordship,” one of the men cried. “ 'Tis the earl hisself!”

“In the name of the queen's court,” Nicholas shouted again, his voice sharp and commanding.

The mob grew quieter, but Alexandra could see them still seething and stirring, still ready to pounce.

“You!” Nicholas pointed to a man in front of him. “What's this all about?”

Alexandra saw, in the dancing light of the torches, Rob using the momentary distraction to jerk himself free. He ran toward Zack and Artie at the edge of the crowd. One of the men started after him, but he was stopped by another who pointed toward Nicholas, urging him to listen. Artie held on to Zack's leash as the massive dog lunged toward the crowd. Rob reached them just in time to help Artie hold the dog back from the mob.

“Zack! No!” Again it was Nicholas's voice shouting a command, and, to Alexandra's surprise, Zack obeyed. He stopped barking and lunging, although he stood alert and tense.

“Talk!” Nicholas said, pointing to the man he had earlier commanded to speak. “Why are you trying to tear down this building?”

“She's in there!” the man said. “She's in there performing an ungodly deed on a dead man!”

“Whom are you accusing?” Nicholas asked.

“Gladstone! That woman what calls herself a doctor! Gladstone!” The men kept shouting, each trying to be louder than the others.

“You're accusing Dr. Gladstone of an ungodly deed?” Nicholas asked. “Explain that to me. What ungodly deed?”

“Why, she cuts the body open and slices it piece by piece!” one of the men said.

“Goes against the will of God!” the other said. “ 'Tis only Frenchmen and the like that defiles a body that way.”

“Why would Dr. Gladstone do such a thing?” Nicholas asked in a much calmer voice.

“God knows why,” came the answer.

“ 'Tis called a necropsy,” the other voice said. “I heard of it before. Has a Latin, popish sound to it, I say.”

“A necropsy, yes, I've heard of that,” Nicholas said. “Sometimes called an autopsy. I believe there are distinguished doctors in London who perform them.”

“Even if they does, it ain't right for a woman to do a man like that.”

“I say, I never thought of that,” Nicholas said. “I'd say that calls for a good discussion. What do you say we talk about it over a pitcher of ale at the Blue Ram?”

“Ale you say? A whole pitcher?” It was impossible for Alexandra to determine which of the men was speaking, since Nicholas had persuaded them to speak in quieter voices.

“I'm buying, of course.” There was no mistaking Nicholas's voice.

“Never turned down a pitcher o' ale,” one of them said. There were a few more fading and incomprehensible exchanges as the men moved away toward the Blue Ram.

Nancy and Alexandra were in the kitchen sharing a breakfast of poached eggs and toast with Rob and Artie. Alexandra often allowed the boys to eat with them when the weather was exceptionally cold or stormy. This morning, though the weather was pleasant, she'd insisted that Nancy invite them in as a reward for their service the night before.

“I can't imagine how we could have gotten through the night without you,” Alexandra said. “Had it not been for the two of you and Lord Dunsford, I fear we'd be in a great deal of trouble.”

Rob shrugged. “Had to do somethin', now, didn't we? What with the constable gone and now 'is deputy dead and whittled up by the two of you.”

“We don't
whittle
a body when we perform an autopsy,” Nancy said, “and the doctor is correct. Even with law enforcement unavailable, we could have been lynched by a mob. Stop slurping your tea, Artie.”

“Like you say, Lord Dunsford done his part same as me and Artie and old Zack,” Rob said.

“Yes,” Alexandra agreed. “You were all brave.”

“Surprised, I was,” Nancy said.

“We were all surprised at what happened,” Alexandra said.

“What I mean is I was surprised by Lord Dunsford. The way he took on that mob. Didn't know he had it in him. I think Zack was impressed as well.” Nancy dabbed at a spot on the table where Artie had spilled his tea.

Alexandra looked at her with raised eyebrows. “What an odd thing for you to say, Nancy. One could almost say you see Lord Dunsford as a coward.”

“Not a coward exactly, miss, but he is a bit of dandy, you know. Not the type to take on the likes of men about to start a street brawl. I take it you weren't surprised.”

“Not at all,” Alexandra said. “No more than I was surprised at the bravery of the boys and Zack.”

Artie smiled broadly, and Rob ducked his head, embarrassed, but Alexandra could see a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Just because we were lucky enough to escape with our lives last night doesn't mean our trouble is over,” Nancy said.

Alexandra's sigh sounded troubled. “I'm well aware of that, Nancy. Since we weren't able to talk to Lord Dunsford, we don't know where we stand with the mob.”

“Or the law, for that matter.” Nancy spoke with her back to Alexandra and the others as she stood at the stove, serving up more eggs for the two boys.

“We is back runnin' from the coppers?” Artie asked, directing his question to Rob. The two boys had become more than familiar with trying to stay a step ahead of authorities before Alexandra and Nancy rescued them from the wharves and put them to work.

“Nothin' to worry about.” The break in Rob's sixteen-year-old changing voice tarnished his attempt at sounding confident. The room was silent for several seconds except for the sound of forks against plates and Artie's slurping. “Can't say I understands it all,” Rob said, breaking the silence as he looked at Alexandra. “Why was them blokes so mad about what you was doin'? 'Twas just doctor work ye was doin' in there, way I sees it. Was ye up to somethin' I don't know 'bout? Breakin' the law, I mean?”

“No one was breaking laws. Shame on you for suggesting Dr. Gladstone would do such a thing,” Nancy scolded. “Now, eat your eggs.”

“Actually, I was breaking the law,” Alexandra said, “but in this case I felt I had no choice.”

“I knows what ye means by that,” Rob said, speaking around the mouthful of eggs he was chewing. “Many's the time I stole a few pence or maybe a slab o' bacon. Had no other choice since it was that or starve to death. Not to mention what woulda become of Artie. He'd starve in no time at all, him bein' such a skinny runt. So ye done it because we's all about to starve, did ye? If the problem is that people ain't payin' ye on time, I can speed 'em up. I has me ways.”

“For heaven's sake, Rob—” Nancy began.

“It's nothing like that,” Alexandra said, interrupting her. “I was breaking the law by performing the autopsy on Deputy Poole.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rob said. “Ye was whittlin' on the poor bloke's body so ye could come up with what kilt 'im. Ain't the first time ye had to sneak around to get it done.”

“It's illegal for a woman to perform an autopsy, for one thing,” Alexandra said, “and I didn't have the proper permission.”

“Well, it ain't always convenient to wait for permission. I learned that back when I was even littler than Artie. But as for ye bein' a woman, I sees the point, ye bein' the weaker sex, as they says.”

“Weaker sex?” Nancy's screech was indignant. “I'll tell you about weaker—”

She was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on a door and Zack's single bark, signaling a visitor. Alexandra and Nancy exchanged a silent glance, fearing they were both about to have to answer for what they'd done the night before.

“I'll see who it is,” Nancy said, hurrying toward the front. “You stay here, and I'll tell whoever it is you're with a patient.”

“No, Nancy,” Alexandra said. “I'll go to the door. I'm the one who should handle this.” She was well aware of all of them, Nancy, Zack, and the boys, following her as she made her way to the front door and opened it to Nicholas.

“Lord Dunsford!” she said, using his formal title because of the presence of her entourage.

“At your service, doctor,” Nicholas said with mock formality.

“Come in, please. I'm so eager to talk to you.”

“I'm sure you are,” he said, keeping an eye on Zack as he entered. Zack, however, did not make the customary growl when he saw Nicholas. Instead, he stood still and tense, his ears pointed upward, as he had done the night before, when Nicholas confronted the mob.

“Tea for Lord Dunsford, Nancy,” Alexandra said. “Finish your breakfast and then back to work,” she added, turning to Artie and Rob.

Alexandra led him toward the parlor. “Now, tell me what happened last night and whether or not I'm going to need the services of a good London barrister.” Her flippant remark belied the terrible anxiety she felt.

“Of course you need a good London barrister,” he said. “Doesn't everyone?” he added, when he saw the look she gave him. “And as for what happened last night, all I can say is that I believe I managed to turn down the flame under a pot that was about to boil over. Can't say how long that will last.”

“How did you do it? How did you keep them from coming back and lynching me?”

“Oh, I simply used an old and reliable technique. I lied.”

“You—”

“I told them that you were no longer in the coroner's building, although I assured them that they did see you go inside in all likelihood, but that you went in on the instructions of Constable Snow to make certain all was in order with the body.”

“But they know Constable Snow is not here.”

“Certainly they do. I told him that you had received a telegraph message from him, instructing you as to what you must do.”

“And they believed you?”

“I showed them the telegram.”

“How could you have possibly done that? I've received no such telegram, and you know that. You also know that no one knows how to reach Constable Snow to apprise him of what's going on in Newton-upon-Sea.”

“All right, let's just say I showed him
a
telegram. I happened to have one in my pocket. I'd received it earlier from my office advising me of the postponement of a court date.”

“But if it wasn't from the constable advising me—”

“I was counting on them not being able to read, and it worked. What I showed them looked like a telegram, and they accepted that I knew what it said.”

“The fire under that boiling pot could very easily flare up again,” Alexandra said, just as Nancy entered with the tea.

“Then I suppose I'll have to do some more quick thinking,” Nicholas said. In spite of his flippant remark, his brow was creased with a worried frown. He stayed long enough to finish his tea before he left to allow Alexandra to make her morning rounds to see patients.

Alexandra went to Olive Fontaine's house first, out of concern for her being elderly and living alone. Mrs. Fontaine opened her door and welcomed Alexandra with her usual graciousness while her four cats curled around her ankles. Zack was, as always, leery of the alien creatures and barked when he saw them. By now he had come to anticipate Alexandra's command to stay quiet and not start a chase. It was clear by the look in his eyes that he did not obey the command with any enthusiasm and instead wanted with all that was in him to follow his natural instincts. A raised back and a hiss from the yellow cat gave him second thoughts, and he took a step backward. Mrs. Fontaine quickly closed the door, leaving Zack outside, before the drama could come to a climax.

“You're such a dear to stop by so often to make sure of my well-being,” she said. “Your father would have been so proud of you. I'm sure you know that without my telling you. Huntington always spoke of you in glowing terms. Always mentioned how, had you not been born female, you could have become one of the kingdom's stellar physicians.”

Her remarks caused a mixture of embarrassment and chagrin in Alexandra. “How nice of you to mention it,” she finally managed to say. “Now, tell me how you're feeling.”

“Quite well, as always,” Mrs. Fontaine said. “From a physical standpoint, at least, although I must confess anguish over the recent events in Newton.”

“Who can blame you? We all feel distress.”

“I was about to have a cup of tea,” Mrs. Fontaine said. “Will you join me? Nothing like tea shared with a friend to cheer one up. Especially when there are scones spread with honey.”

“Thank you, I've had more than enough tea this morning, but I can't resist a scone with honey.”

“I'll be back with it soon. Brush the cats away if they bother you,” Mrs. Fontaine said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the kitchen. She reemerged with a tray holding a teapot and cup, plates of scones, and a small bowl of honey. “I wish you'd been here a bit earlier. Young Judith was just here. We could have all had tea together. Such a lovely girl.”

“She is indeed,” Alexandra said as she accepted a plate.

“She's the image of her mother.”

“Judith told me her family came from Foulness,” Alexandra said. “How is it that you know her mother?”

“The Payne family is one of the oldest families in England, my dear, and besides, we're distantly related. I was a Payne before I married. Judith's branch of the family settled in Foulness, while my family came to Newton-upon-Sea, as did the Fontaines, another old-line family.”

“Then you must know Judith's father, George Payne.”

“Oh, yes, of course, and his parents as well. As a matter of fact, I was present when little George was born. God rest his mother's soul. She would have been proud of him.”

“Indeed?”

“Oh, yes. Followed in his own father's footsteps and rose in the ranks of the brotherhood to become Grand Master of the Freemasons. A shame he was not as successful in business as his father was. The Paynes were merchant bankers, you know. Started out as salt merchants, of course, but moved on to other things, as did all our old-line families. I'm afraid young George was a bit of a dreamer and never quite fit into the banking business. Still, he's a fine man at heart.”

“I see.”

Mrs. Fontaine scrutinized Alexandra's face. “What is it you're not saying? Do I detect doubt? Suspicion?”

“Well, you see, it's just that…”

“Go on,” Mrs. Fontaine urged.

“I don't want to sound like a gossip, but I've heard Judith didn't get on well with her father.”

“Oh, that!” Mrs. Fontaine said with a wave of her hand while she used her other hand to lift one of her cats from where it had found a comfortable nest on the top of her head. “That really is nothing more than gossip—a silly rumor started by a cousin in Foulness. Men can be such gossips, although it's always women who get the blame, isn't it?”

“I suppose that's true.”

“Of course it's true. In this case, it was a cousin who was jealous of George's advancement in the brotherhood.”

“Grand Master, you mentioned.”

“Oh, yes. Quite an honor, I understand. Master over several lodges in the area. You know how those Freemasons are. Ah, of course you don't know. Huntington never got around to joining, even though he was invited several times. I know because my own husband told me. Always too busy, I suppose. Nevertheless, those who do find the time take their positions and their power quite seriously, so it's understandable, even if it's not excusable, that a jealous cousin might try to do something underhanded to discredit his more successful relative. Now, I see that look on your face, and I quite agree. It's all so petty and childish, but some boys never grow up, you know.”

“You don't believe the rumor, then, that Judith and her father are—well, at least at odds, if not estranged.”

“Of course not. Mind you, I'm not saying they didn't have their disagreements. Judith has more than a few modern notions that rub her father the wrong way. Always going on about that woman, Mary Something, who wrote that book about women and their rights.”

“Mary Wollstonecraft. She wrote
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman.
”

“Yes, that's it. Never read it myself. Have you?”

“I have. It's quite an old book. Written almost a hundred years ago.”

“My education is lacking, I suppose. Judith tells me that's the premise of Mrs. Wollstonecraft's work—that women aren't inferior to men, but only appear to be because they're denied an equal education.”

“A reasonable summary, I'd say. She believed that if reason could prevail, women would have all of the opportunities of men.”