Sarah and the Doctor (Prairie Tales Book 1)

by Kit Morgan

  “And he remained a perfect gentleman?” Sarah did her best not to cringe as she waited for the answer.

  “Yes, he was,” she said. “The entire time. All he did was carry on about his seashell collection.”

  Sarah slumped with relief. “Thank Heaven for that.”

  Elizabeth’s brows shot up. “Are you saying that he’s not a gentleman?”

  She straightened and poured herself another cup of tea. “Not at all. But then, I’ve never been alone … in a garden … in the dark with him.”

  Elizabeth went crimson.

  “Oh, dear, I’m making a mess of this.”

  “That’s all right,” Elizabeth said and reached for her cup. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong of me. Anything could have happened. I suppose it was a good thing Mr. Waller came along when he did. I don’t know why Mr. Petite kept us out there for so long. We walked and walked, like going in circles, and had finally stopped when Mr. Waller found us.”

  Sarah pursed her lips together, took a sip of tea, pursed them again. It was all she could do to keep from laughing. “Yes, that is … curious.”

  Elizabeth leaned toward her. “Does anyone else know?”

  “That you were in the garden with Mr. Petite? Not that I know of. I only know because the two of you were missing for so long and I … asked after you.”

  She gasped. “Did Mr. Waller tell you?”

  “I was able to put two and two together. I even looked for you for a time, which is why I came to visit.” There, that wasn’t a lie. “I wanted to make sure you came away from the Millers’ ball intact.”

  “Oh, yes, very much so.”

  Sarah sighed in relief. “That’s good to know. We women have to look out for each other.” She held her cup and let the warmth seep into her cold hands. She was chilly for some reason and wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was her nerves. This was a sticky business, protecting someone else’s reputation without them knowing it. “Has Mr. Petite called on you yet this morning?”

  Elizabeth sighed in disappointment. “No.”

  Uh-oh. Time to take a chance. “Do you … like Mr. Petite?”

  Her eyes lit up. “I find him most enjoyable.”

  Sarah shuddered. She was afraid of that. “What is it about him you enjoy the most?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, his sense of humor?”

  What sense of humor? She wanted to scream. In fact, she wondered if she should be using the word “sense” and Oswald in the same sentence. “What else?” she asked.

  Elizabeth’s face took on a far-off look. “I think he’s handsome.”

  Okay, she’d give him that. “Yes, and tall,” she added. “What else?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Elizabeth said and ran a finger around the rim of her cup. “He likes to talk. That means I don’t have to.”

  Sarah smiled. “He does at that. But he’s bound to run out of things to say one day. Then what will you do?”

  She gave her a shy smile. “I don’t know. I’m not much of a conversationalist. I … I feel awkward.”

  “What? Nonsense. You’re conversing with me and seem perfectly fine.”

  “That’s because I’m comfortable with you. Most people make me nervous.”

  Sarah stared at her. This was the first she’d heard of the girl’s shyness. She knew Elizabeth to be quiet at times, but had no idea … “You mean, you don’t care to be around a lot of people?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Large crowds make me uncomfortable.”

  “But, you had such a good time at Nanette’s tea. In fact, out of all of us, you were having the best time.”

  “But I like all of you. Mr. Fielding, Miss Olson, Mr. Waller …”

  Sarah’s heart leapt at Doc’s name. “Yes, all pleasant company to be sure.”

  “And of course, Mr. Petite. Though he was exceptionally grumpy that day.”

  Sarah nodded. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen him that way a lot. Oswald … I mean Mr. Petite …”

  “Are the two of you courting?”

  Sarah paled. “What?”

  “Courting. Are you?”

  Sarah quickly shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “That’s not what my mother says.”

  Her entire body went cold. She swallowed hard. “What exactly did she say?”

  “That he plans to marry you and it’s only a matter of time before it’s in all the papers.” Elizabeth pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes with it. “Please, I have to know.”

  Sarah went to her and knelt before her chair. “Oh, Elizabeth, Oswald and I aren’t courting. If we are, then no one’s informed me of it.”

  Elizabeth sniffed back her tears. “You’re not?”

  She gave a vigorous shake of her head. “No.” She sighed heavily and stood. “Poor Oswald doesn’t know what he wants. I suggest you let him figure things out before allowing him to perceive any affection you might have for him.”

  “You would?” She turned away and sniffed back more tears. “I don’t know what attracts me to him. He’s a little boring when one gets down to it. But I can’t seem to help myself.”

  “Dear me, child, you’re like a helpless moth drawn to a flame.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “You remind me of my Grammy when you talk like that.”

  Sarah nodded to herself. “Figures. Well, I’m staring spinsterhood in the face. So the chances of me becoming a grandmother are remote.”

  “What? How can you say that? What about … oh, never mind.”

  “Never mind, what?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes rounded. “Um, well, that nice Mr. Waller. He obviously likes you. A lot.”

  Sarah slowly backed to her chair and sat. “What makes you say that?”

  “I saw you come into the ballroom just as Mr. Waller and I finished a dance. As soon as he saw you, it was like he saw nothing else.”

  “What?” Came out a tiny squeak.

  “Yes, I wish Mr. Petite would look at me like that.”

  Sarah’s heart raced as her stomach went through a series of somersaults. “Elizabeth, Mr. Waller and I … there’s … nothing between us. We have no understanding …”

  “But he so admires you.”

  Sarah flinched, then quickly composed herself. “But he’s … he’s … not someone I can,” she swallowed hard. “Be with.”

  “Why not?”

  Sarah couldn’t believe her ears. “Because of our social differences, that’s why.”

  “What about them?”

  She openly gaped. “He’s of a different class, it’s just not done.”

  “I think the social differences are silly,” Elizabeth said and flopped back in her chair. “If someone is in love, then what’s the difference? I can fall in love with a poor man just as easily as a rich one.”

  “Yes, but what would your parents say?”

  “Nothing. They weren’t always rich, after all.” She sat up. “But not many people know that. Both inherited money from relatives. My father used that to start their business and investments.”

  Sarah stared at her a moment. “I had no idea.”

  “So, if Mr. Waller is sweet on you, then I don’t see a problem. Who knows what the two of you could make of yourselves.”

  Sarah made another squeaking sound. “Elizabeth, you’re … right.”

  She shrugged. “It’s all very obvious to me.”

  Sarah felt another chill go up her spine. She shivered, then realized how tired she felt. Last night’s festivities had taken their toll. Best she head home. “You’ll give Oswald time?”

  “Yes, if you think that’s best. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t have scores of callers this morning.”

  “Oh, I did, but I told our butler, Randall, to tell them I wasn’t taking any gentlemen callers today.”

  “Except Mr. Petite?”

  She blushed and nodded.

  Sarah stood, put a hand to the ba
ck of her neck and rubbed it. “Just be careful, and don’t be afraid to get to know some other gentlemen too.” She put the same hand to her forehead. It felt hot. “I’d better be going. I … think I need to lie down.”

  Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Are you not well?”

  “Perhaps I’m just over-tired from last night.” She smiled at the younger woman. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out fine.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you, Sarah. I’m glad you came to visit me.”

  “Me too.” She turned, took two steps toward the drawing room doors, and fainted dead away.

  “Miss Clemmons?”

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered open at the familiar voice. “Doc?” She heard a tiny gasp and wondered if it had come from her.

  “Thank the Lord,” he breathed. “Can you sit up?”

  She looked at him, and for the first time realized she was flat on her back. “What happened?”

  Elizabeth peeked over Doc’s shoulder. “You fainted.”

  “What? How?”

  “That’s what I’m here to determine. Were you aware you have a fever?”

  “Fever,” she said and stiffened. “No …”

  “Here,” he said gently and place a hand behind her shoulder. “Let me help you.”

  Elizabeth hurried to kneel on the other side of her, and between the two of them, sat her up. “There, feel better?”

  Sarah looked from one to the other. “I’m sick?”

  “Yes, but until we know with what, it’s better you stay here,” he said. “Unless your father has a carriage he can send?”

  She looked at him, her mind locked in a swirling fog. “How did you get here?”

  “The Fieldings live just down the street,” said Elizabeth. “I sent Randall to fetch him.”

  “Yes, and lucky for you,” Doc said, “I was home.”

  “Wait, how did you know he was a doctor?” she asked Elizabeth.

  “He told me last night while we were dancing.”

  “Oh,” Sarah said and swayed to one side. “Perhaps I should stand.”

  “I think a better idea is to let me get you to a chair,” Doc suggested.

  Sarah sucked in a breath. “Carry me?”

  “Yes. You’re very pale.” Without another word he got one arm under her legs, the other behind her shoulders, and lifted her off the floor. He carried her to the nearest piece of furniture, a lovely blue sofa, and gently set her down.

  Elizabeth hurried over and propped some pillows at one end. “Here, lay against these.”

  Sarah lowered herself and sighed. “I don’t feel right.”

  Doc pulled up a chair and sat. “You have a fever and you fainted. What are your other symptoms?”

  “Um … tired, very tired.”

  “No nausea or headache?”

  “None,” she said. “Perhaps last night has caught up to me.”

  “As interesting as last night was, I don’t think that’s causing this,” he said. He turned to Elizabeth. “Have you any garlic?”

  “I have a little fenugreek at home …” Sarah volunteered as she closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Last night had completely done her in. Nerves perhaps? Hmm, but her throat felt scratchy …

  “I’ll do the doctoring, my dear,” he said.

  Suddenly his hand was against her forehead. It felt cool, and part of her wanted him to keep it there. But that would be highly improper.

  “Randall?” she heard Elizabeth call.

  Footsteps, followed by, “Yes, Miss Chambers?”

  “Go to the kitchen, see if Mrs. Shibley has any garlic.”

  “Right away, Miss Chambers.”

  Sarah listened to his retreating footsteps then realized Doc’s hand had moved to the back of her neck. When he moved on to her wrist to check her pulse, she let herself drift. She didn’t have time to be sick. She had her volunteer day at the orphanage tomorrow. Or was that next week? What day was it, anyway?

  “Elizabeth, after your butler brings the garlic, I want you to send Randall to the Clemmons’ home. Let them know what’s happened. And have Fiona, their maid, gather me some of Miss Clemmons’ fenugreek.”

  “Fenu-what?”

  “It’s an herb Miss Clemmons grows in her garden. She told me all about it. It helps bring down fever. Between that and the garlic we might get somewhere.”

  “Thank you so much for coming, Doctor,” she said, her voice grateful.

  “If I’m honest, I’m not considered a true physician, not yet, anyway. But I’m getting there. I hope you’ll put your confidence in me to tend Miss Clemmons.”

  “Well, you’re the first person I thought of,” Elizabeth said. “And I knew you were just down the street.”

  “You’re lucky Dr. Campbell’s classes were cancelled today.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “On account he’s sick.”

  Sarah heard Elizabeth giggle, smiled at the sound, and hoped Doc stayed by her side. He had a comforting presence, one she’d not felt before. She could get used to this and let herself imagine what it would be like to feel this sense of peace, sans her fever and scratchy throat, all the time.

  Unfortunately, as soon as her mother found out what happened, there would be anything but peace. She cringed at the thought. Maybe she’d better try to go home?

  “What are you doing?” Doc asked and put a hand against her shoulder. “Lie down. Rest. You’re in no shape to be up and about.”

  “But I have to get back …”

  “You don’t have to do anything but lie there. Who’s the doctor, you or me?”

  She smiled and closed her eyes again. “Neither of us, according to your colleagues.”

  “My colleagues,” he said on a sigh. “Thankfully, I help tutor my colleagues. I could have taught Dr. Campbell’s classes today. I’m the one that organized and helped him with his notes.” He took one of her hands in his. “I am taking some classes. In another couple of years, I’ll be considered a physician. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you, Sarah.”

  She smiled. The sound of her name on his tongue was Heaven. “Thank you … for coming.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me from you,” he said, voice gentle. She felt him draw nearer. Funny she could sense such a thing. “Rest now, I’ll be right here.”

  She smiled, not bothering to open her eyes – not that she could anyway – and drifted off to sleep. Maybe all she really needed was him …

  Chapter 10

  “Where is she?” Mrs. Clemmons shrieked. “Where’s my Sarah!”

  “She’s resting,” Doc said. “Let her sleep. It’s the best thing for her.”

  “And just what would you know about it?” Mrs. Clemmons demanded.

  Doc sighed. “I’ve studied medicine with, and been the assistant to, Dr. Campbell from Edinburgh for almost two years. If you like, I could have Dr. Campbell himself examine your daughter. Except …”

  “Except what?” she snapped.

  “He’s down with a bad cold.”

  She tossed her hands in the air and took a deep breath. Doc braced himself for another round. “You had better make sure she recovers, is that understood?”

  “Good heavens, Madame. It’s a small fever. She’s not vomiting. She hasn’t a headache or other symptoms that she’s complained about, other than feeling tired, and she was coherent while awake.”

  “But she fainted!”

  “Yes, but that could be from a number of reasons.”

  “For instance?” she said with a healthy glare.

  “When did she eat last?” he asked. He did need to know. Was about to ask Sarah, in fact, but she’d drifted off and he didn’t want to disturb her.

  “Why, this morning,” Mrs. Clemmons said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m … oh, wait a minute,” she hedged. “She took some toast, but, now that I think about it. She didn’t touch it.” She crossed to the other side of the hall and back. “We quarreled. She l
eft the breakfast table and said she was coming here.”

  Doc thought a moment. “And last night? Did she eat before attending the Millers’ ball?”

  She looked him over. “How did you know she went?”

  “I know because I attended it myself. I spoke with your daughter. And I don’t recall her eating there.” Best leave out the fact he danced with her, among other things.

  Mrs. Clemmons hands went to her mouth. She looked like she was going to burst into tears.

  Why was this woman getting so upset? True, fevers could be dangerous. But his inclination at this point was that Sarah fainted from lack of food. If she wasn’t feeling well to begin with, that combination could take her down quickly.

  Mrs. Clemmons shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She was nervous of course. What girl can eat when she’s been invited to the most wondrous ball of the season, and with the city’s most eligible bachelor?”

  “Mr. Petite,” he stated.

  “Yes, Oswald Petite. Wait until he hears about this!”

  “Oh, I’m sure he will,” Doc said and peeked into the Chambers’ guest room. Sarah slept peacefully. Better yet, she had color in her cheeks again. He was surprised she could sleep at all what with the racket her mother was making.

  “I’m going to the Petite’s this minute!” Mrs. Clemmons cried and headed down the hall. “Oswald will summon his private physician and send him straight away! He’ll fix my Sarah!” She marched down the hall to the grand staircase. Randall, the butler, had just reached the top step, a tray in his hand. “Out of my way!” she screeched and shoved past him.

  Randall jumped aside with practiced grace. Maybe Mrs. Chambers was as hysterical as Sarah’s mother. But Elizabeth’s parents were out for the day and hadn’t a clue what was transpiring in their house at the moment.

  “The tea you wanted, Doctor,” Randall said as he approached.

  “Good, bring it inside.” He pushed open the door to the guest room and preceded him. Elizabeth was seated in a chair by the window, working on some embroidery. “Miss Chambers, what are you doing in here?” Great Scott, how had he not seen her earlier?