Page 23 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
“I am.” the doctor said, setting down his medical bag on the marble-topped table. “Dr. Francis Fowler, at your service, madam.” He gave a polite bow. “I understand you are somewhat wary of physicians.”
“More the surgeons.” she admitted.
“Yes.” Dr. Fowler took a seat on the stool beside the bed. “Well, let us hope we need not call on one of them. A grim lot, they are, but men of science, all the same.”
“Men of science.” she echoed.
“My dear.” he leaned forward a bit and clasped his hands together. “If you so choose, I shall be your doctor. Should that be the case, anything said between us would remain under confidence. Such is the way of medicine. You could talk to me about anything you desired, and I would not have the right or the will to share it with anyone, including othermen of science.”
“Is that so?”
“It is so.” he smiled roughly beneath his brutish nose, and she could tell that he had a good soul. She often judged people by their cheeks, for in the miniature movements of the skin around the mouth is where she learned their personalities.
“You may examine me, Dr. Fowler.” she said after a time of chewing on her lower lip. “But only because I am so injured that I require examination.”
“Well, of course.” Dr. Fowler nodded. “What other reason would there be?”
“Clever.” she smiled ironically. She was uncomfortable with any person coming too close to her, especially when she was as vulnerable as she was presently. Yet, she understood that this man had the ability to make the healing process easier, if not faster, and for those reasons she accepted the help.
“One must be, to at least a certain degree.” Dr. Fowler talked while he removed several instruments from his medical bag. “If they are to study medicine.”
Dr. Fowler proceeded to perform a thorough examination of all Leah's injuries, taking stock of their magnitude and repercussions. When all was finished, he assisted her in the changing of bandages across her cheek, at which point he noticed her dominating scar.
“It's an old one.” he remarked.
“From when I was a child.” she dismissed his curiosity.
“Well the good news, my dear, is that you will heal entirely.” he said, placing his tools and measuring devices back into his bag. “The bad news is that it will take some time. Your ribs will heal completely in a matter of a month or two, although you should be able to move about on your own within a week. It will be painful, you understand, but they will heal. This,” he selected a small dropper vial from his bag. “will help with the pain. One drop as needed, you understand, and never more than five in a day.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” she took the vial, giving it a once over.
What happens on the sixth drop?
“Your ankle, you must keep elevated and at ease for at least a week. After that, should you move around, be mindful of it, for it is thrice as easy now to injure. Watch your step, and you will be fine. All of the bruises will subside in due time, but I get the notion you knew that.” he smiled warmly, closing his bag.
“What is a bruise, Doctor?” Leah asked with big, blinking eyes.
“Oh, you are trouble.” Dr. Fowler laughed out. “I can see why the Duke has taken a liking to you.”
“What was that?” she asked, startled.
“Good afternoon, Miss Benson, I shall return in a week or so to ensure you are healing properly.” Dr. Fowler went out of the door, and left Leah alone in the bed.
She palmed the small vial over in her hand. She could handle whatever pain she had to live with. That was a small thing compared to being dead. But this tincture intrigued her immensely.
She had heard of opium and cocaine mixtures used as numbing agents, but she had never thought that so much could be administered from a doctor's bag.
Riphook is missing out on that one.The thought of his suffering, either known to him or not, brought her a little warmth.
* * *
Doctor Fowler left Leah's room and went down the stairs, at which point Daniel directed him to the east drawing room. There, not at all a surprise to the good doctor, he found the Duchess waiting with an elaborately-arranged tea.
It was one of the perks of making house calls to the Wilson's. The Duchess always made a great show of feeding Dr. Fowler, and he had no complaints with the practice. So that morning when a note had arrived from the Duke, he had not thought twice about making the four-hour coach ride out to the countryside.
“Dr. Fowler, so good to see you.” the Duchess said warmly, gesturing for him to sit at the table. “How have you been keeping? And your wife, how is she of late?”
“We are both well enough, Your Grace.” Dr. Fowler sat in the chair Daniel pulled out for him. “Will your son, His Grace, be joining us?”
