Finding Bliss

by B L Bierley

  Eric nodded, and said his farewells as a sinking sensation swept over him.

  Bliss can’t marry! She’s only a girl!

  Eric thought this with a dizzying sense of panic. Knowing he shouldn’t care what she did in her life didn’t change the fact that the thought of her with anyone, no matter how old she was, made him extremely ... angry!

  The absurdity of his reaction to the news and the continued imaginings of Bliss kissing him or sometimes kissing faceless strangers was what pushed him to take a vacation. Eric argued with himself for a few minutes before he’d eventually packed his trunk and set out for a long-overdue holiday.

  On the way back from nearly two weeks of bachelor’s delights in London, Eric still didn’t feel the least bit better. He felt restless and uneasy still. He wondered where Bliss was and if she were suffering similar issues after that kiss in his office.

  Then he smacked himself mentally. Bliss was a wealthy girl of society. There were probably dozens of men who would be in line to have her as a bride! She was obviously out in society.

  Another thought came as he continued to ruminate on the subject of Bliss. Had she been as bold in her seasons of balls and parties as she’d been on that examination table? A tide of jealousy welled up in him, making his hands clench into tight fists and his eyes blur with the fury he felt.

  No, if he ever saw her acting in such a way again, he would personally force her home if he had to hog-tie her and toss her in the luggage rack of a hack chaise to make it so. Then he laughed at himself.

  I have no right to treat her like I care. I’ve never cared so much about anyone, not since my father. What a joke it is to be thinking that I have any say in what a duke’s daughter does!

  The remainder of the ride back to Bristol was more uncomfortable. Eric knew he shouldn’t be thinking of Bliss. But it didn’t prevent his fantasies from invading his dreams whenever he dozed on the passenger coach ride.

  Mercifully he was alone for the last leg of the journey. One particularly vivid dream segment just before he arrived home left him with a need so insistent he was inclined to tip the coachman’s son an extra tuppence to carry his trunk for him.

  After the boy placed the trunk, received his coin, and headed out on his way, Eric locked the door and took the matter in hand. Giving in to the forbidden imaginings of the blonde, dewy-eyed Bliss, he recognized the physical changes in her.

  Bliss had filled out quite proportionally, in his medical and masculine opinions. The shape of her breasts was extremely intriguing in that damned chemise! Sitting there, on his examination table, ribbons holding up the stockings, looking so sexy—Eric could have thrown her back, parted those yellow satin bows and taken her so easily!

  Every time he remembered the moment he’d seen her there, giving off a look of innocence while radiating seduction like a sunny day, he needed to think of something distracting. Otherwise he’d embarrass himself in public!

  Now in the privacy of his home, he took less than a minute to gain the slightest relief. But there was a hunger building within him that no amount of self-attention would satisfy, and he knew it. And he couldn’t begin to understand why he had no desire to seek out affection from any other source.

  Only one source would work, it was painfully clear! But she was out of bounds, out of reach and out of the question!

  His control of his behavior, usually so exemplary in his profession, was shaken to its foundation. This was evidenced by the fact that every time Eric saw Bliss in town he felt compelled to drag her away somewhere alone and kiss the knowing look right off her face.

  Somehow he knew that she might possibly be predicting his moves or expecting him to act out in a certain way. Therefore his resistance to the urges was his only defense. Giving in wasn’t an option. That would be absurd. His only hope was that she would be going home after the Osterburg‘s ball, and he wouldn’t have to see her again.

  Eric didn’t bother with unpacking. He intended to check in first with Dr. Stemley, who was tasked with seeing his most urgent clients in his absence. Their offices were conveniently across the street from one another.

  Eric removed his travel suit and took a quick, cold-water rag-bath to clean the dust from the road and his recent release from his body. He selected a new set of clothing and dressed quickly. Placing one of his oiled aprons in his satchel, he hurried to High Street.

  When he reached his colleague’s office, Dr. Stemley told him that he hadn’t much news to tell. Lady Normand checked in once and left as quickly as she could. Dr. Stemley joked at how she reacted to him, a much older man than she expected no doubt.

  There was a case of chicken pox in one of Eric’s youngest client families, and one emergency from a nearby tavern required the use of stitches. Dr. Stemley then gave Eric notes for each patient and told him he was happy for his safe return.

  Eric thanked him for his extra time in keeping his patients cared for and turned to leave the office. He was nearly out the door when he spotted Bliss. She was walking slowly toward the middle of the block, aiming directly for his office door. Fortunately for Eric, she wasn’t alone. He felt less out of sorts when there was another person involved in the encounter.

  Seeing Bliss wave at him, as if she knew exactly where to look, made Eric jump in surprise. He thanked Stemley once again for helping in his absence and walked across High Street to accept the meeting.

  As Eric approached, Bliss opened the door for her companions, an average-looking brunette in her mid-twenties and a small child about three or four years old. Bliss let the door close after them, claiming to need a moment to say hello to a friend.

  Once they were alone, Bliss pulled Eric’s sleeve to draw him closer. He resisted until she scoffed.

  “Oh relax! I’m not going to assault you on High Street, for heaven’s sake! I only want to say that you can pick me up at six-thirty this evening and bring a closed carriage because it is going to rain,” Bliss said stiffly.

  Eric affected a painful expression of discomfort at her pronouncement. She sighed and continued.

  “It’s perfectly acceptable for an old family friend to escort me, a dear correspondent and purveyor of sage advice, for an evening outing. If it will make you feel better I have no objection to my maid coming along,” Bliss replied.

  Eric began to chuckle, which upset her a little. She gave him a scorching look that didn’t demand so much as disapprove of what he found so humorous.

  “I’ve not asked you to go anywhere with me. So I will not need to pick you up. I’m just recently returned from a holiday in London, so I only want to attend to my most important clients and go home to rest,” Eric told her with amused features.

  “Yes, your ‘holiday’ was quite interesting. But I don’t see how giving you a lecture on your poorer habits would be useful right now, so I’ll get directly to the point. My aunt’s friend, Lady Westford, has an emergency that needs medical attention right away. Naturally I suggested you. Even if you’re not very good at midwifery,” Bliss added in scathing retort.

  “I have never claimed to be a childbed expert. What’s wrong with your aunt’s friend that is so pressing you dragged her to the office the minute I returned? Let me guess, she’s about to have an attack of hives? No, a severe episode of flatulence you want to head off before her garden party?

  “Or wait, I know! She’s pregnant, but she doesn’t believe in your exemplary medical diagnosis based on the fact that you have absolutely no medical training whatsoever! Am I close?”

  His voice was mean with sarcasm, and the implication of patronization was nearly overwhelming to Bliss’s usually stalwart control. He watched in horror as her chin quivered almost against her will, but she lifted her face level with his out of sheer spite.

  “No, her son has something lodged in his nose. I brought him to you because I am certain you will know how best to deal with it. As for the rest, the only one of us who is full of hot gas is you when you continue to say such cruel and unnecessary thing
s to me.”

  Bliss concluded her steely disdain by turning on her heel and entering the office. His door banged shut so hard he felt certain the window glass would shatter.

  Eric felt an overwhelming sense of chagrin. He knew he’d hurt her feelings. And the thought of that made him suddenly morose.

  Being arrogant and sarcastic wasn’t the best way to deal with improper feelings. As a medical doctor, with some experience in dealing with irrational behaviors in the infirm and even a few of the insane, Eric knew better than to let emotions get in the way of his professional demeanor. He had insulted her not only as a client, but also as a friend.

  Insulting Bliss was suddenly unforgivable. She continued to trust his judgment for medical treatment of her acquaintances. And they must have walked past seven other surgeons’ offices to reach his place. In a budding medical district where many of his St. Thomas’s alumni fought for the first available positions at the newest hospital in England, Eric really couldn’t afford to be flippant with his client list!

  Entering his office he discovered Scarlet looking much more refreshed after a couple of days of rest. She had taken the previous week off, only turning up when summoned by Dr. Stemley. It was no great distance for her to walk down from her room in the boarding house above the office.

  Eric sent word to her that he would be coming in on the afternoon of his return to check with Dr. Stemley and attend to any dire circumstances. Scarlet was about to tell Lady Westford that he hadn’t returned from his vacation when Bliss and Eric walked in within moments of each other.

  “Afternoon, Scarlet. Please show Lady Bliss and Lady Westford into my examination room. I’ll be in momentarily,” he explained.

  Scarlet looked at Eric bewildered, glancing at the woman with the child and then at Bliss. Giving him a quick glance Bliss then turned to the nurse.

  “You’ll have to excuse Dr. Benchley. He’s trying to forget that I was ever here the other day. He obviously doesn’t remember that I used my actual family name of Porter that day instead of my courtesy title. I am indeed Lady Bliss Penwood. There’s really nothing significant to it,” Bliss announced dismissively.

  Then she turned to her friend and introduced her to the nurse.

  “This is Lady Westford and her son, Lord Robert Westford. Eric, if you don’t mind, we’ll wait in the room for you,” Bliss said dryly before she ushered her companion into the room ahead of her along with the boy.

  Eric could see the child’s face looked slightly distressed and that his nostrils where extremely reddened.

  “His mum says he’s got something stuck up his nose. Says he won’t say what it is, but the nanny believes it’s the peas he refused to eat at lunch. You’ve got your work cut out for you, I’m afraid. Would you like me to help, sir?” Scarlet asked looking less helpful than normal.

  Eric shook his head. Scarlet didn’t particularly like children. It was ironic because she was in training with a local woman to become a midwife on her days off. She only assisted Eric for the pay and the extra experience in medical practices.

  Eric walked toward his office and set his satchel on the desk. He donned his oiled apron and rolled up his sleeves. Then he removed a long, pointed instrument with a very sharp tip from a drawer. He tucked the instrument into his apron pocket and prayed that the mother wasn’t known to swoon if he had to use the instrument to retrieve the foreign objects in the young child’s nose.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bliss, Bristol, Late March 1811

  Bliss couldn’t recall ever being so angry in her life, not even when she saw the vision of Russ using her best china doll as a sacrificial victim for one of his many reenactments of the Battle of Blenheim.

  Eric’s continued ridicule of her gift was beginning to make her wish her future was linked to anyone else’s in the world. Surely there was one person in Europe at least who would believe her without being blood related?

  She followed Lady Westford and her son into the exam room. She helped little Robert up to the platform and told him to sit quietly and to listen to everything Dr. Benchley told him as it was very important.

  And she also told him that she would also know when he stuck his tongue out at her the moment she turned her back, so if he wanted to risk her turning about and lopping it off with her special tongue scissors to go right ahead. The boy looked stunned by her admission of knowing his tongue exposing preference in defiance of authority.

  When Eric walked in Bliss was treated to a repeat of his professional behavior. The difference this time was that she was fully clothed and only there to pass the time waiting for him to propose. She’d gotten enough of the visions now to know that he would be proposing to her just before being caught with her in a delicate situation.

  Unfortunately, the view of what happened in the visions was still very murky and darkened, as though something could alter it or prevent it. That made Bliss very nervous. Of course, given his most recent statements to her, she wasn’t terribly keen to imagine him in her future. She focused on the nearest events anyway.

  Today in the office and a little of the evening with Eric was as far as she could see ahead to their immediate joint futures. There was a peculiar ruffling to the edges of the vision concerning the evening’s events.

  Apparently they would be having dinner together when something uncomfortable occurred—but it looked to Bliss as though she was the only one feeling any stress. Bliss foolishly allowed herself to hope it related to a dinner at his home! Perhaps Eric was thinking of something private?

  Bliss watched Lady Westford’s gaze moving over Eric’s face and body as he asked the particulars of Robert’s condition. She stiffened, but forced herself to focus on the immediate issues.

  “Robert was upstairs with his nanny when lunch was served. Nanny Berta always insists that he must eat everything on the plate, which I disagree with most of the time. I think if she makes him eat past the point of his feeling full, he’ll learn to over-indulge and become portly!

  “But that’s not important. Anyway, the nurse left the room for just a moment to fetch a towel for his spilled milk, and when she returned the peas were missing. She checked everywhere to make sure he hadn’t hidden them in his napkin or under the plate edge, but there was no sign of the missing peas. So she assumed he had eaten them.

  “An hour or so later she noticed him worrying his nose and breathing open-mouthed like a dog. That’s when we discovered that the peas weren’t eaten. We believe he stuffed them up his nose! Now he can’t breathe properly, and I’m afraid they’re going to take root in his head and grow sprouts out of his ears and nose!” Lady Westford said with agitated worry.

  Eric didn’t say anything during her monologue, merely nodded and drew the sinister looking tool from his apron pocket, fingering the very sharp point absently as he did so. Lady Westford was so absorbed in her story that she missed the instrument entirely.

  Eric made sure little Lord Westford didn’t miss anything, though. He allowed the child to gaze for a good while at the tool. He had artfully tucked it back into his pocket by the time Lady Westford finished.

  Bliss realized she was seeing a master’s hand in this bit of doctoring. It was exactly like something Dr. Benchley, Sr. would have done. Eric replied to Lady Westford’s concerns with calm assurance.

  “That’s probably what happened. Children often put things in their body openings out of curiosity. I’ve seen gravel, yarn, bits of every type of food you can imagine, and even bugs in ears, noses and sometimes navels.

  “Now then, getting them out of the ears and navels is usually fairly simple since the openings are big enough and shallow enough to tweeze with pinchers. The nose, however, is a different story. For that I have a very special tool!”

  Bliss was watching Lord Robert’s eyes widening with each word. Eric stopped abruptly to speak directly to Lord Westford.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, my lord. But did you happen to count the number of peas? I’ll want to be positive I’ve d
ug them all out,” Eric asked in mock innocence that was easily missed by the stubborn, yet petrified child.

  “If you can’t recall, it could take a while for me to explore all the recesses of your nasal passages. My lord, you look positively pale. I suppose we could try an alternative method first. If you know the number of peas, of course,” Eric said still playing his innocence up.

  Bliss covered her mouth to avoid smiling at how brilliantly Eric was coercing the child.

  “Id was four peas! I pud do in each side!” Lord Robert announced frightfully.

  “Ah, only four! Well, that’s a relief. If it had been twenty peas the alternative wouldn’t have worked at all! But four itty bitty peas shouldn’t cause much trouble. Alright, Lord Robert, I’m going to need you to do something very important for me. Listen to all of my instructions before you do anything, okay?” Eric asked firmly. Lord Robert merely nodded in mute relief.

  “First I’ll need you to open your mouth wide as you possibly can. Then I want you to use the tip of your tongue to make circles on the roof of your mouth.” Eric paused to demonstrate the motion, looking completely at ease.

  “I want you to keep doing that until you get the urge to sneeze. I’ll help you with that, too. When you get the feeling the sneeze is almost here, I want you to clamp your mouth shut and let every bit of the sneeze force out through your blocked nose. We might have to do it more than once. But as soon as we get enough movement you might be able to dislodge them with vigorous blowing. Alright, are you ready?” Eric asked the bewildered child.

  Lady Westford removed a handkerchief out of her reticule and handed it to Eric with a muted grin.

  Bliss waited until the boy began using his tongue as directed. She nudged Eric and raised her eyes to the ceiling. She didn’t intentionally indicate the feather, just an exasperated affect. But she knew what the result would be.