Read Online Fortune's Mistress by Mary Chase Comstock - Free Book Online

warmth. The pleasant room which had been a comfort to her these last weeks did not now seem a sanctuary.
    She did not have a clear sense of what the doc tor’s visit might mean. Would he assume, because of her condition, that she wished an examination? Or would he pay a simple call, turn his attention to Annie, and wait for her to request his services? In one sense, she looked forward to the former, for she was impatient to ascertain whether the child she carried progressed as it should. The notion of such intimate scrutiny, however, distressed her inordinately. The thought of such self-revelation was misery.
    She glanced about the room nervously and nodded to herself, satisfied. She had done her best to see that her furnishings revealed only her taste, no more. No clues to her history, she felt sure, could be discerned there.
    But her body? Was it true, as some suggested, that one’s past could be read there? Surely this must be an exaggeration, but she remembered, with a shudder, being told by one of her gentlemen that her body seemed “well suited to love.” She had not quite known what he had meant, nor had she asked, but she worried now. Could clues to what she had been be visible to a trained, perceptive eye?
    There must be another alternative. Surely Maggie was a midwife. Surely she would serve as well as the doctor, Marianne told herself. She would merely tell the doctor she had made ar rangements with the old woman. The possibility of his taking offense at such a pronouncement was less daunting than the idea of his intruding on her privacy.
    She heard the rise and fall of voices in the passage just then, and she steeled herself to the encounter, sought to convey a more composed demeanor than she truly felt. A tap came at the door and Annie entered, followed closely by the doctor who carried a basket over his arm.
    “It’s Dr. Venables come to call, ma’am, but only look at me!” The girl walked carefully across the room before her and turned, smiling broadly. “My limp—it is all but gone!”
    “ How wonderful!” Marianne exclaimed. Truly, the girl’s infirmity seemed barely visible. She glanced at the doctor, but could not catch his eye. “But what— ?”
    “ He’s worked a miracle, that’s what,” Annie declared, nodding at the doctor, “and I do not know how I will ever thank him.”
    At these words, Marianne saw Venables ’s face tighten, as an expression very like pain crossed over it. How odd! Most men would glow in the light of such praise. He seemed unwilling to even hear it.
    The doctor shook his head. “You must not say such things, Annie.” He glanced at Marianne, his face still drawn. “I have done very little besides bring her a new shoe, Mrs. Glencoe. Its sole is built up, you see, so that her limbs are made more equal.”
    Annie made tutting sounds, as if to admonish the man’s modesty.
    “ However, you must be careful, Annie,” he went on, as he seemingly recovered himself, “to accustom yourself to using this device gradually. Otherwise, I fear your back will begin to ache.”
    Annie frowned in apparent confusion. “What has my back to do with this?” she asked, lifting the edge of her skirt to reveal the toe of her new shoe.
    “ Many afflictions take their toll on the back, Annie— and even some conditions which are not quite afflictions.” He turned to Marianne with a wry smile. “Is that not correct, Mrs. Glencoe?”
    Marianne nodded tentatively. It was true, her back had never hurt before these last months. Now she sometimes felt as if she had spent her day carrying boulders about.
    “ Bring us tea, please, Annie,” Marianne said.
    “ Oh, and a saucer of warm milk, if you please,” the doctor added. He grinned sheepishly at Marianne as Annie left to perform her duties. “I’ve brought you something— I hope you will not take it amiss, Mrs. Glencoe, and that it will be a welcome gift.”
    He picked up the basket he had brought and carried it to Marianne. She