Page 69 of Libby's London Merchant
She did as he said, crawling back between sheets still warm from little John. She lay quietly in the dark until she heard Anthony’s steady, even breathing by the fireplace.
What have I done? she asked herself. What have I done?
15
Morning came much sooner than Libby wished. Little John began to root about, hunting for his mama. When he whimpered, Libby kissed him and trundled him over to his mother on her other side, who soon satisfied him.
It was quiet for a moment and then the rooster in the loft of the stable took a dim view of the silence and added his rider. Wallis grumbled and slid out of bed on the other side of the room, tugging on his breeches and tucking in his nightshirt.
Libby rolled over and resolutely shut her eyes. She heard a sharp crack from the vicinity of the fireplace, followed by a heartfelt “Damn.” She sat up in bed to see Anthony on his feet and rubbing his head where he had forgotten about the low beams. He looked at her with a sour expression.
“’Tis a good thing I do not physick myself,” he said to her, “else I would diagnose that as rampant stupidititis.”
She laughed and he threw his pillow at her. She threw it back, and that was the signal for Caseys large and small to tumble out of bed, pelting the doctor as he stood there in his bare feet. Libby laughed until the doctor whispered to the Caseys and they turned the attack on her.
Maud Casey attempted to restore order but was seriously hampered by little John, who took exception to the sudden disappearance of his breakfast. He set up a squalling that Wallis
Casey heard on the other side of the wall as he milked. “If this cow gives sour milk this morning, I will smite you all,” he roared. “You, especially, Dr. Cook.”
The Caseys looked at one another and burst into laughter. Mrs. Casey lay back down and relieved John’s misery.
Libby looked at her over the pillows on top of her. “I should apologize for disrupting your morning,” she said.
Maud only winked. “My dear, this is a typical morning, only more so.”
Libby laughed again and looked at her brother, who was sitting up in bed, a puzzled expression on his face. The doctor sat beside him, listening to his lungs with his ear pressed against his back.
“Ticking like a well-wound clock,” Anthony said, a satisfied expression on his face. “I worry about pneumonia, laddy, especially after that drenching we all had.”
Joseph gestured toward his sister. “Doctor, I wish that you would listen to Libby. She got a fearful drenching, too.”
“Oh, no, I...” Libby began, pulling the blanket up higher on her chest.
“I suppose you are right, laddy, although Libby claims she is healthier than all of us,” replied the doctor, his face redder than usual. He came to Libby’s side and sat on the bed. “Turn around, my dear. You needn’t bare your back. My hearing is acute enough through flannel, heaven knows.”
She did as he said, leaning forward and resting her forehead on her knees as Anthony laid his ear against her back. He was silent a long time.
“Well?” Joseph demanded, a frown on his face.
“Tis not an easy matter to listen for crackles when your sister’s stomach is growling,” the doctor said.
“Wretch! Now go milk a cow or something, and take Joseph with you, while I dress,” she said, not looking at the doctor.
She dressed quickly, her clothes warm from the fire, and held little John while Maud prepared the simple breakfast of milk and bread. The Casey girls made the beds and then grouped themselves about the table while their mother buttered the bread, carefully scraping off any excess and applying it to the next piece. “I am sorry we have taken up so much of your space,” Libby said. Little John had appropriated her locket, passing it from hand to hand and chortling as he leaned against Libby.
“Well now, Miss Ames, we couldn’t be more delighted to do the doctor a good turn, so many has he done us. Wasn’t little Maudie nearly dead last winter after she fell through the ice? That was after Wallis’ bad spell last fall and we had no money to pay him, but there he was.” She smiled proudly. “I give him vegetables every week now. No, lassie, it’s we that should thank you.” She replaced the butter crock on the shelf. “Isn’t he a fine one, Miss Ames? He’s a bit of a bumbler, is Dr. Cook, but what one of us doesn’t lack somewhere?”
Libby sipped at the warm milk Mrs. Casey handed her, ashamed to remember all the times she and Lydia had giggled over Dr. Cook and his clumsiness. And now I have promised that I will marry him. The idea seemed alien in the morning, stripped of all the mystery of the dark night and the crackling fire. I wonder why I did that, she thought. Is it because I am disappointed that the duke didn’t offer properly for me?
It was a notion to reflect upon, Libby decided as Anthony and Joseph came back into the cottage, each carrying a bucket of milk, which Maud Casey deftly strained, covered with a cloth, and left for the older Casey boys to remove to the milk house.
“He’s a better doctor than he is a milker,’’ Wallis declared over breakfast as his children sat on the floor and ate their portions. “But, Maud, he has good hands. He calls’um surgeon’s hands, but gor, he can squeeze a teat.” He winked at the doctor, who grinned back. “If physicking ever gets slow, I’ll take you here on sufferance.”
“Obliged,” said the doctor. “One never knows, and we do live in an uncertain world.”
After the dishes were done, they left, Joseph mounted on Sir William’s hunter, amid the general clamor that was part and parcel of the Caseys’ daily lot. Maud Casey stood in the doorway with little John on her hip and insisted that they return soon and often.
“She means it, Libby,” the doctor said as he called to his horse. “I’ve sat in drawing rooms in London without invitations half so sincere.” He shook his head. “Father wonders why I did not choose to hang out my shingle on the same street with the likes of Starnley, Croft, and Knightson, but I would rather be here. Others can specialize in diseases of the rich.”
