Read Online The Vanishing Point by Mary Sharratt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mary Sharratt
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ale and a plate of crabcakes were laid out.
"Come and refresh yourselves!" she cried. "I'll let no one say that the Mearleys are not liberal and generous."
Mrs. Mearley looked about thirty-five, still handsome, but when she smiled, Hannah saw the gaps in her teeth.
For every child, a tooth,
the saying went. She wondered if May had lost a tooth with her first pregnancy. Hannah reckoned Mrs. Mearley was hiding something behind her smileâshe could make out the strain in her face as the lady pressed a pewter tankard of ale into the ship captain's hand.
"I cannot tell you how pleased we are," Mrs. Mearley said to the captain, "to finally have the good table and chairs. For years we made do with what the servants could cobble together. At last we shall be able to receive guests in style. There is nothing Mr. Mearley likes better than company."
Mr. Mearley, busy overseeing the loading of tobacco barrels, did not strike Hannah as a man who enjoyed guests, or much of anything. She observed him limping along as though every step caused him pain. His posture was one of forbearance, spine hunched and arms clutched to his belly as if to protect his inner organs.
"In his condition, he should rest indoors." The captain spoke delicately. "I heard the news of his malady in Anne Arundel Town."
A fretful look passed over Mrs. Mearley's face. "I tried to persuade him to book passage to Bristol so that he might have the care of a physician, but he refused." She lowered her voice. "He fears sea travel. Last time he boarded ship, he caught a fever that was nearly the end of him."
"Madam." Hannah spoke before she could stop herself. "What is the nature of your husband's illness?"
Mrs. Mearley and the captain turned to her with puzzled faces. Mrs. Mearley appeared affronted.
"This is young Mistress Powers from the ship," the captain said.
"If you please, madam, my father was a physician, and I know something of physick myself. Perhaps I could be of service." Hannah curtsied with what she hoped was appropriate deference.
"My dear girl, I think you overestimate your powers." Mrs. Mearley spoke in a high and brittle tone. "This is no matter for amateurs."
"Begging your pardon, madam." She swallowed. "I only wished to offer help."
"Your offer is kind, mistress," said a man who appeared at
Mrs. Mearley's elbow. Hannah hadn't seen him until now. His voice was conciliatory and smooth as cream. "But Mr. Mearley requires a surgeon, not a nursemaid, however solicitous."
About forty years old, the man was easily the most sophisticated person she had seen on this shore. He wore a doublet of wine-colored leather over his voluminous linen shirt, which was laundered to such whiteness that it hurt her eyes. His wig, if modest, appeared brand new and of the latest fashion. His breeches were linen and his boots were of claret leather to match his doublet. Unlike the strutting planters she had seen on the ship and in Anne Arundel Town, there was a look of true nobility about him. He didn't need jeweled rings and silk waistcoats, Hannah thought, to prove he was a person of distinction.
"A surgeon, you say?" Her hands itched for the box of surgical instruments hidden at the bottom of her locked trunk.
"Seeing as you have so kindly expressed your concern, I trust Mrs. Mearley will not object if I share this revelation with you." He inclined his head. "The good lady's husband has a stone in his kidney."
Hannah opened her mouth in an O. She saw Mr. Byrd splayed on the table, the scalpel in her hand as she cut to the stone. How cleanly she had made the incision. How proud Father had been. She raised her eyes to the gentleman, about to tell him she could indeed operate on Mr. Mearley, when she caught herself. What possibility was there that Mrs. Mearley would let a strange young woman with a scalpel anywhere near her husband?
The gentleman addressed Mrs. Mearley. "If I were you, madam, I would try once more to persuade your husband to sail back to
"Come and refresh yourselves!" she cried. "I'll let no one say that the Mearleys are not liberal and generous."
Mrs. Mearley looked about thirty-five, still handsome, but when she smiled, Hannah saw the gaps in her teeth.
For every child, a tooth,
the saying went. She wondered if May had lost a tooth with her first pregnancy. Hannah reckoned Mrs. Mearley was hiding something behind her smileâshe could make out the strain in her face as the lady pressed a pewter tankard of ale into the ship captain's hand.
"I cannot tell you how pleased we are," Mrs. Mearley said to the captain, "to finally have the good table and chairs. For years we made do with what the servants could cobble together. At last we shall be able to receive guests in style. There is nothing Mr. Mearley likes better than company."
Mr. Mearley, busy overseeing the loading of tobacco barrels, did not strike Hannah as a man who enjoyed guests, or much of anything. She observed him limping along as though every step caused him pain. His posture was one of forbearance, spine hunched and arms clutched to his belly as if to protect his inner organs.
"In his condition, he should rest indoors." The captain spoke delicately. "I heard the news of his malady in Anne Arundel Town."
A fretful look passed over Mrs. Mearley's face. "I tried to persuade him to book passage to Bristol so that he might have the care of a physician, but he refused." She lowered her voice. "He fears sea travel. Last time he boarded ship, he caught a fever that was nearly the end of him."
"Madam." Hannah spoke before she could stop herself. "What is the nature of your husband's illness?"
Mrs. Mearley and the captain turned to her with puzzled faces. Mrs. Mearley appeared affronted.
"This is young Mistress Powers from the ship," the captain said.
"If you please, madam, my father was a physician, and I know something of physick myself. Perhaps I could be of service." Hannah curtsied with what she hoped was appropriate deference.
"My dear girl, I think you overestimate your powers." Mrs. Mearley spoke in a high and brittle tone. "This is no matter for amateurs."
"Begging your pardon, madam." She swallowed. "I only wished to offer help."
"Your offer is kind, mistress," said a man who appeared at
Mrs. Mearley's elbow. Hannah hadn't seen him until now. His voice was conciliatory and smooth as cream. "But Mr. Mearley requires a surgeon, not a nursemaid, however solicitous."
About forty years old, the man was easily the most sophisticated person she had seen on this shore. He wore a doublet of wine-colored leather over his voluminous linen shirt, which was laundered to such whiteness that it hurt her eyes. His wig, if modest, appeared brand new and of the latest fashion. His breeches were linen and his boots were of claret leather to match his doublet. Unlike the strutting planters she had seen on the ship and in Anne Arundel Town, there was a look of true nobility about him. He didn't need jeweled rings and silk waistcoats, Hannah thought, to prove he was a person of distinction.
"A surgeon, you say?" Her hands itched for the box of surgical instruments hidden at the bottom of her locked trunk.
"Seeing as you have so kindly expressed your concern, I trust Mrs. Mearley will not object if I share this revelation with you." He inclined his head. "The good lady's husband has a stone in his kidney."
Hannah opened her mouth in an O. She saw Mr. Byrd splayed on the table, the scalpel in her hand as she cut to the stone. How cleanly she had made the incision. How proud Father had been. She raised her eyes to the gentleman, about to tell him she could indeed operate on Mr. Mearley, when she caught herself. What possibility was there that Mrs. Mearley would let a strange young woman with a scalpel anywhere near her husband?
The gentleman addressed Mrs. Mearley. "If I were you, madam, I would try once more to persuade your husband to sail back to
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