“I’ll teach you to defy me, you pathetic—”
Whatever slur he planned to toss was lost in a gush of air as George bodily slammed into the obese doctor, grabbing both wrists in the process and pinning him against the opposite wall.
“You ever lay one hand on her again, and I promise I will kill you!”
“You insufferable, arrogant guttersnipe. Lady Powis is my patient, and I should have been called to treat her!”
“You were called, but from the smell of you, I guess you were busy swimming in a beer keg. Thank God I got there before your drunken ass!”
White cursed and attempted futilely to shove George away. “Swine! You shall pay for your insolence. Now let go of me so I can see my patient!”
“She is no longer your patient, Dr. White. Lady Powis will henceforth be cared for by Dr. Darcy.”
Lord Powis’s blunt tone cut through the tension cleaner than a razor through butter. White pivoted his bulging eyes to his benefactor, as did George, both stunned at his lordship’s calm composure. He stood by the now-closed door to his wife’s bedchamber, face as impassive as it was the entire time George treated Lady Powis. As far as George could tell, Lord Powis had not glanced at Sarah, who had backed away and was leaning heavily against the corridor table.
“My lord! You cannot be serious! I have been treating Lady Powis for years, most efficiently—”
“Like hell you have,” George interjected. “Her heart is weak, but nothing that cannot be treated with the proper medicine and change in diet. If you bothered to read the latest studies, you would know she needs exercise, digitalis, hawthorn, and a few other medicines she was not receiving, probably because you never heard of them. Did you ever condescend to listen to her heartbeat?”
Dr. White looked more horrified than he had a second before. “I would never violate a lady in such a way! Do you not see how infectious such behavior is, my lord? You cannot allow this!”
“What I cannot and will not allow is a brawl in my house. Nor will I allow Lady Powis to suffer needlessly. You are dismissed, Dr. White. I suggest you leave peacefully this instant before I lose my patience with you completely. The consequences of that would not be to your liking, I think.”
The threat was obvious even to the half-inebriated Dr. White. Yet he remained pressed into the wall when George released him, his face set in shock.
“Dr. Darcy, come with me to my study. I wish to consult with you on my wife’s medical needs. Sarah”—Lord Powis reached to pat his daughter’s pale cheek—“go sit with your mother. And drink a glass of strong wine. I think you need it. Follow me, Dr. Darcy.” And without another look at anyone, Lord Powis walked away.
George flashed a reassuring smile toward Sarah and made sure the servants were attending to the removal of the paralyzed White before hastening after Lord Powis.
At the end of the corridor, Lord Powis entered a moderate-sized room with two cushioned chairs and a long settee clustered in the middle. Off to the right was a large desk scattered with papers and books flanked with three filled bookcases. Lord Powis ignored all of this, heading directly toward the open window, where a view of the azure sea could be seen. He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and held it firmly over his mouth and nose as a series of raspy coughs burst forth.
George waited near the shut door, listening and observing Lord Powis. In those moments, the crisis with Lady Powis was shoved aside as tuned diagnostic skills cataloged the various signs and formed a tentative diagnosis he was not eager to prove true. At present, any speculations regarding Lord Powis’s health could not be investigated, a reality Lord Powis made clear once he caught his breath and turned to look at George.
“Dr. Darcy, thank you for responding to the call for assistance when Lady Powis collapsed.”
“I am a physician, my lord.” George bowed his head respectfully. “It is my duty and my pleasure to use my skills where needed.”
“Yes. I gathered as much. I am also sure you are aware that not all physicians possess the same sense of duty or pleasure?”
“Unfortunately I must agree with you, as much as it pains me to do so.”
“Indeed. Now”—Lord Powis gestured to one of the chairs as he sat into the other—“explain to me what you think Lady Powis suffers from and how best to cure it.”
“I can only base my opinion on what I have seen today, coupling that with subtle signs noted upon other occasions. I am aware of Lady Powis’s history to a minor degree,” George glossed over where he had obtained that information, “and would need to question her further in order to be one hundred percent sure of her condition and how best to treat it long term. Curing her condition is another matter entirely, and I can make no promises in that regard. That it is her heart which ails her is not a surprise to you, of course. Today she experienced angina pectoris, which simply means ‘strangling tightness and pain in the chest’ caused by insufficient oxygen delivered to the muscles of the heart.”
For ten minutes, George explained the differences between angina and a severe heart seizure, discussed the causes and treatment modalities, and delved into some of the newer studies. Lord Powis asked some questions but mostly he listened intently without comment. When George ran out of information to share, Lord Powis rose from the chair and paced back to the window. He stared outside for several minutes, the handkerchief used for another short coughing spell, before he turned back to George, who had risen as well.
“Thank you for the lengthy explanation, Dr. Darcy. You have told me more in the past quarter hour than Dr. White ever has. I see that piece of information does not surprise you.”
“No, it does not. I suppose there is no point pretending after our exchange in the hall. We dislike each other intensely, based in large part on his medical incompetency.”
“So you say.” Lord Powis held his palm up to halt George’s imminent retort. “Hear me out, Dr. Darcy. The reasons for enlisting Dr. White as our physician are personal and I would prefer not to discuss them.” He searched George’s eyes for a hint of knowledge, but George shielded his thoughts and presented a calm stare in return. “Despite your claims to his utter incompetency, Dr. White has tended to Lady Powis’s needs well enough these past several years. To be blunt, I have little faith in young men who think they know everything and disdain the wisdom that comes from age and experience. When I first heard the reports of your skills, I was skeptical at best. I find it difficult to imagine a man of your age with a medical degree at all, let alone the expertise to contend with a doctor of older years. Nevertheless, I am not above admitting I may be wrong. And when it comes to my wife, I am willing to take a chance.”
He stepped closer to George. “If you will accept the assignment, Doctor, I am asking you to stay here for the time being and attend to Lady Powis. I greatly desire to see her health improve and am interested in discovering if you are as good as the rumors say. Will you do this for us?”
“I would consider it an honor to assume care of Lady Powis, your lordship, but my one condition is that I have exclusive authority, meaning that Dr. White is not allowed to interfere in any way or to see Lady Powis.”
“Agreed.” Lord Powis nodded once, although he held George’s eyes with a penetrating, assessing stare that spoke volumes. “Never doubt that I will be watching you, however, and if I see the tiniest sign of failure, I will be calling Dr. White back. And I want constant reports. I will have a room prepared for you a few doors down from Lady Powis’s suite. A man can be sent to retrieve anything you need from your bungalow in Bombay or the hospital.”
“Thank you, my lord. I will make a list of items I require. If I may, I will include some medicines I know to ease a consumptive cough.”
Lord Powis looked truly startled for the first time since rushing to his wife’s side on the terrace. For a stunned minute, he gaped at George before smoothing his facial muscles into the icy expression
George was growing familiar with. He nodded curtly but said nothing. Instead, he gestured toward the door in dismissal.
As George grasped the doorknob, Lord Powis confirmed his awareness of the one topic George had deemed inappropriate to broach under the circumstances. “My daughter’s chambers are also on this wing, Dr. Darcy. On the other end of the hall from where I will house you. It will be obvious which door is hers because one of my servants will be guarding it at all times. I trust I am clear?”
***
The parting comment from Lord Powis delivered in a firm, matter-of-fact tone left George with no clue if the viscount was expressing fatherly caution to an ardent lover or issuing a warning that his daughter was off-limits completely. The uncertainty set George’s nerves on edge. Ever the optimist, George decided to use the unique opportunity to present himself in the best possible light.
A fair portion of each day was spent tending to Lady Powis. Ever the physician above all, George devoted the bulk of his energies to testing the best medicine combinations, observing the outcomes, and ensuring her ladyship’s regained health. She never mentioned Dr. White, and to George’s relief, the hated man never appeared.
A steady stream of visitors flooded the mansion that week. Most came to see the viscount regarding the myriad business affairs to handle after his lordship’s long absence. To George’s annoyance one person who visited on a daily basis was Lieutenant Dawson. George wondered at Dawson’s sudden attachment to Lord Powis rather than the Bombay Command, but when he questioned Dawson the response, “I am helping him with particular arrangements,” was irritatingly unenlightening. At each visit Dawson made a point of engaging Sarah, a vexation that flared George’s jealousy.
Lord Powis insisted on a report of Lady Powis’s condition each morning, but he kept the conversation on topic and then brusquely dismissed George. It was frustrating but with scant else to do but accept the situation, George made the best of it.
Nearly a week passed before a surprise summons offered him the opportunity he sought.
“Dr. Darcy, thank you for coming so swiftly.” Lord Powis gestured to the chair across from the desk where he sat. “I hope I did not disturb anything important?”
“I was playing backgammon with your delightful daughter, and I am saved the humiliation of another defeat.”
“I had no idea Sarah was a backgammon master. Or is it that you are a dismal player?”
“The former, actually. Usually the dice are in my favor. I do have the upper hand at tennis, thankfully.” George leaned forward. “If I may beg your pardon, Lord Powis, the mention of Miss Chambers is a perfect opening for me to ask a question of you that has been weighing upon my mind for some weeks now.”
“I know what you wish to ask me, Dr. Darcy, and that is partly why I called for you. I am not averse to granting your wish in regards to my daughter; however, before you commit yourself, I need to share some information with you first. Will you indulge me? Thank you.” Lord Powis looked down at the papers spread across his desk as if searching for a hint of where to begin. Finally seeming to gather his thoughts he started with a question of his own. “Your reports of Lady Powis’s condition have been positive. Do you feel she is stable enough for travel?”
George leaned back into the chair and frowned. “That would depend on the type of travel, I suppose. Her heart is stronger and I have every hope that it will remain on a path of improvement with continued treatment and medical oversight. Overall, her health is excellent for a woman of her years. I know she loves to travel, based on her stories. Mental attitude can often be more important than physical, you see. Where are you planning on going?”
“What about me?” Lord Powis asked instead of answering. “Am I fit for travel?” George’s brows rose in surprise at the viscount’s oblique reference to his own health. Lord Powis’s smile was faintly humorous. “I owe you an apology, Doctor.”
“My lord?”
“At our first conversation, I said that I found it difficult to believe a man as young as you could be a good doctor. In general, I still think that with age comes wisdom; however, in the case of medical knowledge, I am changing my mind. It is a subject I know next to nothing of, and my ignorance shows through. We live in a changing world that is moving so fast.” He glanced toward the window, his eyes distant for a few seconds before looking back at George. “I now see that this rapid change affects the art of healing in a profound way. What you have accomplished for my wife, and for my daughter, in such a short time is remarkable. It proves the truth of the rumors. You, Dr. Darcy, are an excellent physician.”
“Thank you, my lord. I appreciate the compliment. You are correct that the advances in medical knowledge are changing daily. I am sure I have already missed much by being away from the university and London hospitals this past year. However, it isn’t true that experience is not to be valued. I certainly hope that my skills ten or twenty years from now are vastly superior to what they are at this moment. Reading all the books or research papers in the world cannot take the place of learning by doing. I am on a journey of discovery, my lord. Keeping my mind and eyes and ears open for new techniques, or old techniques if they work, and the chance to work with other healers is how I believe my skills will advance. Ultimately it must be a combination. Keeping abreast of the latest discoveries as well as seeking out treatments that are lost or lesser known, all the while not being afraid to delve in and get one’s hands dirty, as it were, is the only way for a physician to excel.”
“You are passionate. I admire and encourage this, but it does confuse me. A year ago, Dr. White diagnosed that I have consumption. He hesitated to give me that diagnosis, danced around it, in fact, and never seemed too sure of the label or how best to treat it. You, on the other hand, came to the same conclusion within minutes of talking to me and without laying a hand upon me.” He cocked his head. “How did you do that?”
“It is a gift,” George answered.
“Yes, I believe it is. So, what is your prognosis for me, Dr. Darcy? Am I fit to travel?”
George stared into Lord Powis’s eyes, assessing, and then scanned over his face, examining each feature before moving on to the strong hands lying placidly atop a stack of papers on the desktop. “Your prognosis is that you will die from your disease if something else does not strike you first, but you already know that.” Lord Powis nodded ever so faintly. “There is no cure yet, and there are various types of consumptive lung disorders, phthisis as Hippocrates called it, with varying symptoms and causes. I would need to examine you fully to ascertain the severity, but with proper care, I can assure with relative confidence that you will not be departing this earth for a while. I say travel while you can, my lord. Just be sure to keep a ready supply of medicine with you and seek help when you can. I would not suggest being far from proper medical care for long. Nor Lady Powis either, for that matter.”
“I quite agree with you.” Lord Powis held George’s gaze thoughtfully before continuing. “There is a purpose to this apparently rambling conversation, Doctor. I decided some months ago to move my family back to England. Coming here has not been a mistake precisely, but perhaps we were hasty. Rather, I was hasty. Lady Powis was willing to do as I deemed necessary for us… under the circumstances.”
George deciphered the unspoken query, and with a single nod let the viscount know that he was aware of the deceased Jane. The flash of emotion that crossed Lord Powis’s face was brief and he quickly went on with his stunning revelation.
“Sarah was adverse to leaving England, although she never said much one way or the other. I assume it does not astonish you, Doctor, that my daughter is difficult to understand. You have managed to break through her barrier, and I appreciate that and pray you can help her to overcome her”—he waved his hand as he searched for the right word—“reticence completely. I have had no luck and confess to having largely given up. Whatever the case, we came and now I know
it was not the best choice and it is time to go home. I have plans to leave in two weeks. I never anticipated the daughter who has resisted all attempts of mine at matchmaking with not one but two men asking for her hand in marriage. It complicates things.”
George did not think he could be more shocked. Luckily, Lord Powis answered the unspoken questions for him. Unluckily, the answers were not to his liking.
“The fact is, both of you are worthy men who my daughter apparently holds affection for. I have rarely seen her at such ease with anyone else, especially not a man. It is remarkable. I know she is most drawn to you, Dr. Darcy, with a woman’s passions driving her as they are not with Lieutenant Dawson. Yet he is more like her, their temperaments similar, so the connection is logical. My confusion is in what you have in common with her. How do you reconcile your passionate drive with her docile demeanor? To be frank, I can’t understand it at all. Why Sarah?”
“Dawson? Dawson asked to marry Sarah?”
“Yes. Four days ago.”
George felt as if his head was going to explode. It was inconceivable! Everyone knew George and Sarah were courting. And here that sneaky, conniving snake was going behind his back and attempting to steal the woman he loved, and who loved him! George was sick with anger.
“I see this news is unexpected, but from what I have been told, Lieutenant Dawson has been most attentive to Sarah for months now. He was eloquent in his sentiments toward her and, as I said, the match does make sense. What I need to hear from you, Dr. Darcy, are your sentiments regarding Sarah. Do you love her? Do you think you can make her happy? Tell me why I should give her to you over Dawson.”
The Passions of Dr. Darcy Page 9