Read Online Dangerous 01 - Dangerous Works by Caroline Warfield - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline Warfield
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keep his head down until the weakness passed.
Andrew refused to allow them to call in a physician. Dunning, to his credit, summoned Andrew’s chaise, assisted him into his coat, and insisted that he accompany Andrew home.
Georgiana did not help; she could think of none to offer that he would accept. A soft rustle alerted her that Mrs. Potter had come up behind her. The two women watched them leave.
“He will never help me, will he?”
“Oh my dear, don’t give up hope. He needs you as much as you need him. Our job is to make him understand that.”
Georgiana turned a puzzled gaze on the old woman.
“The work,” Mrs. Potter said. “He needs the work.”
“Your grandson doesn’t see the value. Andrew has Selby, and—”
Mrs. Potter waved the thought away. “Your unique talent is outside Geoff’s experience. Given time, he would come to see the value. But it is young Mr. Mallet you need, not my crusty Latin-scholar grandson.”
Georgiana nodded. She fervently hoped the old woman was right. She swallowed back tears and turned to hide them. She looked back in the direction of the chaise. It was gone.
“He will heal,” said the voice behind her, gruff with age but underpinned with steel.
“Some things will.” She choked. Grief for the young man who would never come back from war washed over her, and she began to shake uncontrollably.
“Please, I am Mister Peabody. Leave “Doctor” to the University men.”
Richard’s Mr. Peabody claimed greater pride in his training as a surgeon than his status as a physician. Georgiana found that refreshing after the insufferable London physicians who fawned on her mother’s patronage over the years, pushing powders and flattery down patients’ throats. A few years younger than Georgiana and a foot shorter, Peabody managed to command respect through common sense and robust good humor.
He examined her person with rigorous thoroughness, more than she dreamed possible. He went about a process she expected to find mortifying with a complete lack of self-consciousness that somehow conveyed itself to her. She was at ease with his physical examination, but not with his probing questions. Questions about what he called her “history” didn’t sit as well. She made jumbled replies.
Undeterred, Peabody began to tell stories about his practice. He stood with his back to her and kept up a stream of steady conversation while she righted her clothing. She knew he was deliberately trying to set her at ease. Buttoning her bodice, she realized it was working.
“You have a clinic for poor women?” she asked in astonishment. “Whatever brought you to that work? When I think of it, isn’t your focus on women and their unique complaints unusual?” The failure of her body and the weakness that continually threatened to keep her from life devastated her. She knew that other women must feel the same. She had never met a man who understood.
“Sisters.” He peeked around and smiled benignly. “Six of them, all older. I watched them grow up, marry, have babies. They always forgot about me when they talked. Female complaints were familiar to me before my teens.”
“Is that why you became a physician?” Georgiana had never heard anything like it.
“Quite! Pleased my father to no end when I became a physician. I would probably still be dispensing physics in Bath to the rich old ladies as my father wished but for some chance events.”
“Would that have been terrible?”
Peabody’s cheerful countenance dimmed. “Perhaps not, but I came to see it wasn’t enough. My oldest sister never recovered from the birth of her fifth child. She wasted away, but they went on having them.”
Others waste away , she thought, but at least Peabody’s sisters had children to show for their womanhood . Georgiana had only her work.
“She and the seventh died the same day,” he continued sadly.
“How horrible!”
“Angered me, I can tell you that. Hated feeling helpless. Soon
Andrew refused to allow them to call in a physician. Dunning, to his credit, summoned Andrew’s chaise, assisted him into his coat, and insisted that he accompany Andrew home.
Georgiana did not help; she could think of none to offer that he would accept. A soft rustle alerted her that Mrs. Potter had come up behind her. The two women watched them leave.
“He will never help me, will he?”
“Oh my dear, don’t give up hope. He needs you as much as you need him. Our job is to make him understand that.”
Georgiana turned a puzzled gaze on the old woman.
“The work,” Mrs. Potter said. “He needs the work.”
“Your grandson doesn’t see the value. Andrew has Selby, and—”
Mrs. Potter waved the thought away. “Your unique talent is outside Geoff’s experience. Given time, he would come to see the value. But it is young Mr. Mallet you need, not my crusty Latin-scholar grandson.”
Georgiana nodded. She fervently hoped the old woman was right. She swallowed back tears and turned to hide them. She looked back in the direction of the chaise. It was gone.
“He will heal,” said the voice behind her, gruff with age but underpinned with steel.
“Some things will.” She choked. Grief for the young man who would never come back from war washed over her, and she began to shake uncontrollably.
“Please, I am Mister Peabody. Leave “Doctor” to the University men.”
Richard’s Mr. Peabody claimed greater pride in his training as a surgeon than his status as a physician. Georgiana found that refreshing after the insufferable London physicians who fawned on her mother’s patronage over the years, pushing powders and flattery down patients’ throats. A few years younger than Georgiana and a foot shorter, Peabody managed to command respect through common sense and robust good humor.
He examined her person with rigorous thoroughness, more than she dreamed possible. He went about a process she expected to find mortifying with a complete lack of self-consciousness that somehow conveyed itself to her. She was at ease with his physical examination, but not with his probing questions. Questions about what he called her “history” didn’t sit as well. She made jumbled replies.
Undeterred, Peabody began to tell stories about his practice. He stood with his back to her and kept up a stream of steady conversation while she righted her clothing. She knew he was deliberately trying to set her at ease. Buttoning her bodice, she realized it was working.
“You have a clinic for poor women?” she asked in astonishment. “Whatever brought you to that work? When I think of it, isn’t your focus on women and their unique complaints unusual?” The failure of her body and the weakness that continually threatened to keep her from life devastated her. She knew that other women must feel the same. She had never met a man who understood.
“Sisters.” He peeked around and smiled benignly. “Six of them, all older. I watched them grow up, marry, have babies. They always forgot about me when they talked. Female complaints were familiar to me before my teens.”
“Is that why you became a physician?” Georgiana had never heard anything like it.
“Quite! Pleased my father to no end when I became a physician. I would probably still be dispensing physics in Bath to the rich old ladies as my father wished but for some chance events.”
“Would that have been terrible?”
Peabody’s cheerful countenance dimmed. “Perhaps not, but I came to see it wasn’t enough. My oldest sister never recovered from the birth of her fifth child. She wasted away, but they went on having them.”
Others waste away , she thought, but at least Peabody’s sisters had children to show for their womanhood . Georgiana had only her work.
“She and the seventh died the same day,” he continued sadly.
“How horrible!”
“Angered me, I can tell you that. Hated feeling helpless. Soon
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