“I’m sick,” he rasped. “Willow bark tea if you would.”
“Back to bed with you now and I’ll bring up the tea. As a doctor you should know better than to be haring all over creation to take care of every little sniffle and hangnail. Plumb wore yourself out, you did.” She shooed him out of the room and back up the stairs. He followed her orders and climbed back into bed, but still wearing his trousers and shirt. Soon the tea arrived, and he sipped it until it was gone. A cool compress was provided, and he was again left in blessed peace to rest.
~*~
Silvia enjoyed afternoon tea with Katrina. She’d met the children and took the grand tour of the home.
The butler came to the door. “Lady Remington to see you, ma’am.”
“Show her in, Montague.” Katrina replied.
A dark-haired woman burst into the room. “Katrina!” She stopped short at spying Silvia. “I forgot you were expecting company. I’m sorry to intrude.”
“Lady Remington, let me introduce you to Miss Silvia Burnett from Brighton. Her father was a doctor there and recently passed away. She has come to stay with us to help with the children.”
“’Tis a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Silvia stood and curtseyed.
“Please don’t stand on ceremony with me. Sit. Sit. The daughter of a doctor, you say?”
Katrina frowned. “Yes. Why?”
“One of our staff has grown ill and we sent for Dr. Miller, but it seems he’s fallen to the same illness spreading throughout the village and surrounding area. Marcus is inquiring about procuring someone else from another village, but it seems this illness is so widespread there are no doctors to spare.”
“Your mother…” Katrina sympathized.
Lady Remington sniffed. “Yes. My mother died of influenza, so it has me at sixes and sevens over this. I worry for Dr. Miller as well. Who cares for the doctor when he is ill?”
Silvia frowned. “We experienced outbreaks of this in Brighton. I have helped my father treat this illness.”
“Have you ever grown ill from it yourself?” Lady Remington asked.
“No. My father did once, and I nursed him back to health.”
“Perhaps it is Providence that brings you here now. I am so sorry to hear of your loss. Your mother?”
“She died in childbirth twenty years ago, and my brother along with her.”
“And you have no other family?” Lady Remington inquired.
“None close enough to provide shelter or assistance to me. I would like to help but it wouldn’t be wise if I’m caring for Katrina’s children as well.”
“I can continue to care for my children if you can step in to help out with the issues in the village,” Katrina reassured her. “But stepping into Doctor Miller’s shoes is not without risk.”
“True, but not if people seek me out. Do either of you have a stillroom where I could work?”
“We both have one, but they are unused and not well-stocked,” Josie said.
“We’ve always relied on Dr. Miller for those things. There is no apothecary, so he compounds his own medications.” Katrina added.
Silvia pursed her lips. “I would hate to intrude in his private space. I brought a few things with me from my father’s still room. Perhaps I can start there before I bother the doctor while he recovers.”
Lady Remington leaned forward. “Will you be able to come and help our servant? And perhaps check on Dr. Miller?”
“Servant, yes. Dr. Miller? Only with someone to accompany me lest he fear I’m entrapping him.”
Katrina grinned. “You’d be perfect for him.” She nudged Lady Remington. “Don’t you think?”
“No matchmaking machinations from either of you.”
“And why not? Wouldn’t it be wonderful, Katrina? She understands about doctoring, and they are of a similar age.”
Silvia shook her head. “Please. Stop. If I am to get a husband let it be in an honorable way.”
“I can respect that. I hope none of the other single women try to render treatment to our poor ailing physician.” Katrina sighed.
“You are incorrigible. Excuse me while I retrieve my bag. I can accompany Lady Remington home.” Silvia rose, and with a small curtsy quit the room and went to her own suite.
She closed the door behind her, found the crate she sought, and began to put necessary items in her father’s doctor bag. How was she to go about doing this as a single woman? It was highly improper. Assisting women in giving birth was vastly different from listening to the lungs of a grown man. Scandalous!
Perhaps Sir Tidley or Lord Remington could think of a solution that would not include forcing Bruce to propose. While she hoped that he would be a suitable husband for her, she would never want him to regret or experience pressure to wed. Could future happiness ever be part of such a union?
She did, however, fully intend to minister to the needs of her ailing friend. She was duty-bound. She hoped he would not resent her interference in his life and work. While she was eager to help, she hoped that in doing so, she didn’t scuttle her chances with him.
Her bag packed, redingote and hat on, she took measured steps down the stairs trying to calm her nerves. She entered the drawing room and the women stood.
“I am ready to depart whenever you are, Lady Remington.”
Katrina smiled. “Silvia, I am so glad you are willing to help. It’s as if God planned the perfect time for you to arrive.”
“Perhaps so.” Silvia squared her shoulders as Lady Remington put on her hat.
“Let us depart with all haste. We’ll find someone to accompany you to Dr. Miller’s. Perhaps my husband, since he and Bruce knew each other at University. It was Marcus who invited Bruce to take up the practice in Didcot.”
“Michael was acquainted with him there as well.” Katrina stated. “Dr. Miller has been a blessing to us all, in and out of the sickroom. I pray you can help him, Silvia.” Katrina gave her friend a hug. “Here you’ve just arrived, and we’ve conscripted you into serving us all. Thank you for your willingness to do so.”
“I was raised by a doctor, Katrina. I could do no less when the need is great.” Silvia turned to follow Lady Remington to her carriage.
Once seated inside, Lady Remington turned to Silvia. “You’ve not said so, but I suspect you are acquainted with Dr. Miller.”
“He trained with my father before moving her to take up his practice in Didcot.”
“A mutual attraction?”
“Between he and I?” Silvia’s hand went to her chest as her eyebrows rose.
“Yes.”
Silvia sighed. “Attraction on my part, but we were younger. I cannot testify to his sentiments on the matter.”
Lady Remington sat back and smiled but said nothing.
“What?” Silvia asked.
“You could bring him up to scratch by Christmas if you tried.”
“I… I…”
“Exactly as I thought.”
“What did you think, my lady?”
“You protested too much when Katrina and I suggested matching you two.” She placed a hand on Silvia’s as it rested on the bag she carried. “Don’t be alarmed. But if one heart is engaged, the other might easily be led.”
“I’ve no assurance he remembers me or would welcome a wife who is a bluestocking.”
“And intelligent wife. Yes, such a curse for a learned man such as Dr. Miller.”
“You’re roasting me now.”
Lady Remington smiled. “But of course. We all adore Bruce and long for his happiness. Perhaps you will be the prescription the doctor requires. We shall discover that in due time, shall we not?”
“If you say so, my lady.”
“Josie, please.”
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Josie. I suspect we are all going to be great friends. May I call you Silvia?”
“Yes, but of course. Josie.”
“Very well. We’ll be to Rose Hill soon.”
Silvi
a relaxed against the squabs and prayed for wisdom. Was it possible she could help the sick in this community as a complement to Bruce’s work here? Fear tickled at the edge of her conscience. She was not formally trained, as it was illegal for women to be doctors. Was the surreptitious training her father had given her enough?” Lord, help me.
~*~
Silvia finished seeing to the ill servant and prescribed the care he would require to recover fully. Turning to the housekeeper she gave one last instruction. “Wash your hands. All of you. Before and after you leave this room and use soap. This will help him heal but also help prevent the spread of the illness if we are careful. She turned to wash her own hands with the soap to set an example for the staff.
“Yes, ma’am,” the servant said.
Silvia took her bag and quit the room to find her hostess. She set her bag on a chair in the hallway and entered the room. “Lady Remington…” She stopped short at seeing her hostess with a handsome, dark-haired gentleman.
“Miss Burnett, I assume?” the man asked.
“Yes…”
“Silvia, this is my husband, Lord Marcus Remington. He has agreed to accompany you to Dr. Miller’s.”
The man smiled down at his wife, and the affection between the two of them was beautiful to witness. Perhaps someday…
“Lord Remington.” She curtsied.
“We don’t stand on ceremony here, Miss Burnett. It is a pleasure to meet you. Will our servant recover?” Lord Remington asked.
“I believe so. His case is not as severe as some I’ve seen, so hopefully he’ll heal quickly. I left instructions for the staff as to his care.”
“That is good to hear. Would you like some refreshment before we leave?”
“No. Thank you. I’d like to see Dr. Miller.”
“Josie, we shall be off.” He strode from the room calling for his coat and hat.
“Take care of Bruce, Silvia. I believe God had a perfect design in bringing you here.” Josie came to clasp Silvia’s hands. “I’ll be praying for his health as well as both your hearts.”
“Thank you, Josie.” Silvia pulled away her hands and pivoted to leave the room. She grabbed her bag and followed the lord out of the manor to a handsomely appointed carriage. Lord Remington gave her his hand to assist her entry and then followed, sitting across from her.
The ride to the doctor’s cottage was silent but for the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the sound of the carriage wheels.
“We are here.” Lord Remington stated as the carriage slowed before a modest home. A servant opened the door, and Lord Remington exited first and helped her down. She followed him to the door of the house which opened before he could knock.
“Good day, Mrs. Wilson, I’ve come to see how the doctor fares.”
The door opened wider as the woman stood aside to allow them entrance into the cozy home. “Let me take your coats. His room is the first on the left as you reach the top of the stairs.”
Both Lord Remington and Silvia handed off their coats and hats to the maid, and Silvia followed the handsome lord up the narrow stairs and into the darkened room.
“Bruce? It’s Marcus.”
“Marcus? Do viscounts make house calls now?” the doctor whispered.
“They do when a friend is ill. I brought someone who might be able to help you.”
“Who?”
“’Tis I, Dr. Miller. Miss Burnett.”
“Silvia Burnett?” His voice cracked.
“You are acquainted?” Marcus asked.
“He trained with my father in Brighton.” She touched Bruce’s forehead and fear clutched her heart. “Can you tell me what your symptoms are, Doctor?”
He pointed to his right side. “Fever and pain here. Can’t keep food down.”
She swallowed. This wasn’t influenza. “Do you mind if I check the area?”
“Go ahead.” He pulled down the blankets to reveal he wore a shirt and trousers. His hand came to rest on the spot. “Here.” He pulled up the hem of the shirt to expose the area.
Silvia gently touched her hand to the skin. “You’re burning with fever, Doctor. What have you taken for that?”
“Willow bark tea. Cold compresses. Water.”
“A doctor following his own orders.” Good. She pushed gently on the skin, and he yelped in pain. She removed her hand, pulled down the shirt, and brought the covers back up. “Have you read the writings of Dr. Parkinson out of London?”
“Of course. Even in this bucolic setting, I’ve stayed current on medical research.”
“Do you remember anything recent in the past two or three years?”
“I was afraid that was the issue.”
Lord Remington stepped forward. “It’s not influenza?”
“No. Your friend here has a diseased organ called an appendix. It’s small but the only treatment is surgical removal.”
“And if it’s not removed?” Lord Remington asked.
“Then you bury me,” Bruce whispered.
“Who can we get to do this?” Remington inquired.
Silvia shook her head. “Even if you found a doctor in the nearby town, his disease is too far advanced to await treatment. I’ve read extensively about surgeries and my father, rest his soul, described procedures at length, and even showed me certain procedures using a pig, but I’ve never performed one myself.”
Bruce glanced at her with glassy eyes. “I’d trust you. I’m not surprised your father taught you. He mentioned to me a few times how astute you were.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You don’t realize what you’re asking.” She sniffed.
“I do. I can remain awake to guide you.”
“No. ’Twould be better if you slept through it. I despise causing you more pain.”
“If it doesn’t come out, the pain will worsen. I’ll die.”
“If I make a mistake, you may die anyway.”
“Please, Silvia. Operate.” Bruce grabbed her hand and swallowed hard. “I trust you and your training. It could burst.”
She placed her free hand on his cheek. “How could I ever refuse you? Do you have a place for surgery? I’d hate to do it in your bed.”
“Downstairs at the back of the cottage I have a table and all the instruments you’d require. You’ll do it? Now?”
Silvia swallowed hard. “Yes. Did you get my letter?”
He grinned. “I did. Saucy woman.”
“Good thing you’re so ill, Doctor, or I might be tempted to slap you.”
“Cut me open instead and get this festering organ out of me.”
“Who normally assists you?”
“I don’t have an assistant. Remy?” He turned to his friend. “Can you help?”
The lord’s eyes were wide. He shook his head. “I can pray, but I can’t watch this.”
“Should he die, you’ll not throw me in jail?” Silvia asked.
“No.”
Her heart raced. “Well, perhaps you can help prepare him for surgery. Help him take care of any personal needs and get him downstairs to the room. Prayer would be welcome.” She turned to Bruce. “I’ll go boil the instruments.”
The doctor smiled. “I knew I could trust you.”
Silvia grabbed her bag and headed down the stairs to find the housekeeper and check out the operating room. Lord, I could use some assistance. I’ve never had to cut into someone, and this is a man I’ve dreamed of for years. I couldn’t live with myself should I do this and he not survive because of my failure. Please guide my hands!
~*~
Doctor Miller emptied his stomach and his bladder and stumbled against his friend as they maneuvered the stairs.
“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” Marcus asked.
“Did I ever tell you about the girl I fell in love with once upon a time?”
“No. I don’t think so. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize, ’Twas Silvia. Promised I’d marry her someday. If I live through this, I might need to take a wife.�
�
“You were never engaged, were you?”
“No.”
“You have no obligation.”
“Marcus. Didn’t you notice how pretty she is? And intelligent? Why wouldn’t I want to marry her?”
“Perhaps because right now you’re mad with fever, and I’m beginning to think you’re delusional too. You really want her to slice you open?”
“I’d trust her more than I would Doctor Mason a county over.”
“Well, he does not do the profession proud I’ll admit, but think, man. A woman operating? At least let her put you under.”
Bruce shook his head. “No. And you need to stay in the room to help keep me from moving. Talk to me. You don’t need to watch what she’s doing. Help me ignore the pain.”
“Something between your teeth to bite on?”
“Might help.”
They arrived at the room.
Silvia was busy. “Put him on the table, Marcus and loosen his unmentionables.” She came to Bruce’s head as he reclined. “You are casting me out beyond the pale should this ever be discovered.”
“I’m sorry.”
Marcus loosening Bruce’s trousers and Silvia donned an apron before washing her hands with soap and water.
She came to stand over Dr. Miller. “Lord Remington, could you leave the room for a moment?”
“Bruce?”
“Go ahead.” Bruce stared up into her sapphire eyes.
“I’ll be right outside the door.” Marcus said as he exited.
“Do you really want to be awake?” Silvia asked as she leaned over him.
He nodded. “One final request?”
Her brows furrowed as she frowned. “What would that be?”
“Kiss me. Please?” It was a bold request. Undergoing this kind of procedure was risky in the best of times, and he was already so sick. Would she even consent to another scandalous request on his part? He’d always wondered if the magic of her kiss from years ago would be the same or better. Morbid thought, but he wanted to experience her kiss one more time…just in case he didn’t survive. He swallowed hard.
“Excuse me?”
“We kissed once long ago when we made that promise. Kiss me again. Please?”
“We were young and naïve then. Now we have no excuse,” she protested.
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