Chapter 14 #2
He slowly placed the flange upon the thin fabric covering her chest, waited a moment to allow her to get used to it, then bent his head and listened. It took mere moments for him to ascertain that she sounded perfectly healthy—her heart and lungs, both.
“Wonderful!” He grinned at her, more out of relief for her condition than anything. “When you grow up, I think you could be a physician, you did so well.”
“Biscuit!”
“Very well.”
He handed off the treat and turned to find Vera standing in the doorway, an odd look upon her face. Stephen couldn’t read her expression.
He frowned and tilted his head in question, but she shook her head and ducked her face, smoothing her skirts.
Stephen slid his eyes in Vera’s direction. She sat next to him on the driving board, her back stiff, her mouth pressed into a line. He searched his memory of their time at the house, wracking his brain. How had he upset her this time? What had he done?
Perhaps Vera was upset that he’d asked her to make Mr. Douglas’s tray, as if she were a maid.
Yes, he thought, his eyes darting her direction once more, that was the most likely culprit.
He frowned. Maybe he’d do it himself from now on, if the task offended her.
He probably should have thought of that and done it today, as well.
“Mr. Douglas said something that bothered me today,” Vera said.
Stephen jerked; he glowered, even as he searched her face. He hadn’t thought the man was the type. Mr. Douglas was sarcastic, sure, and perhaps a bit uncouth, but Stephen thought the man was decent.
“What did he—”
Vera waved a hand. “Nothing like that. I can see it on your face. He asked me to take in Anne if he passed.”
Stephen blinked in surprise. “What did you say?”
“I told him the truth—that I’m not in a position to care for any child. That I don’t have a home or a husband, or even any family.” She choked on the last, as if it cost her dearly to admit it.
He frowned. “I’ve told him he’s not going to die—not if he takes his medicine, which he seems to be doing.”
“He says this is how his father went.” She watched him with large hazel eyes. “That he got sick, it went to his lungs, and he never recovered.”
“He told me the same, but I see no reason why he shouldn’t recover.”
“Do you think that’s all there is that’s making him ill? Just the sickness?”
Stephen frowned. There was no way of being sure with these things. Medicine had made great strides the last couple of decades, but it was far from perfect. He himself had missed innumerable opportunities to learn from lecturers while he’d been away in India.
He’d consoled himself with the fact that he’d received thousands of hours of practical experience, but what if one of those lectures he’d missed was the difference between life and death for Mr. Douglas?
“I’ll write letters as soon as we’re home, asking for input on his case. I’m still in contact with several of my teachers; I’ll ask them.”
And I will ask them to notify me of any classes I should take to hone my skills.
“Thank you.” She nodded. “For taking his fear seriously.”
Stephen didn’t have the heart to tell her the strange anomaly he’d seen play out a hundred times before. Often, when a patient claimed they were dying, they were right.
She said, “Perhaps it’s the fear of aging that’s making him nervous. He certainly took it very hard when I…declined his offer.”
Vera’s fingers tangled together in her distress; the sight made Stephen’s stomach unsettled.
He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He’d worked through numerous bouts of the influenza without so much as a stomach turn.
Now, this lady’s emotions were a string whose end was tied to his intestines? Ridiculous.
“I feel very guilty about it,” she admitted. “I wish I were in a position to tell him yes.”
“You would take her in?” The idea brought him up short.
“Of course I would. She has nowhere to go—nowhere good to go, at least. If Mr. Douglas dies, she’ll be trundled off to the orphanage.
I’ve seen how those work. The good ones are full, and even those are very strict and afflicted with periodic poverty.
Plus, all those children under one roof, and some of them traumatized… ”
Vera trailed off and Stephen frowned. It had been even worse in India. There, orphans were left to the streets. The stronger preyed upon the weak, and none of them were ever safe. Disease ran rampant. Starvation nipped at their heels like the wild dogs that hunted in packs.
“I understand.”
She looked up at him with hazel eyes swimming with tears. “I got the impression that he intends to ask you next.”
Stephen frowned. He heard her unasked question. What would his reply be, if Mr. Douglas asked him?
“I’ll think about it.” That was all the assurance he could offer at the moment, but it seemed to be all that she needed.
She gave a sigh of deep relief, reached over, and briefly touched the hand that held the reins. “Thank you.”
Stephen could only grunt a response—that simple touch, there and gone, had a strange effect upon him.
They were silent the rest of the drive, but Stephen’s mind was whirring. He thought of Vera, and of Anne.
Mostly, he thought of Vera.