As the Sparks Fly Upward (14 page)

“I think that is exactly what he is,” Teague agreed slyly. “But you go to any physician and ask why purging and bleeding are helpful in ridding the body of disease, and they will give you long words and convoluted sentences. Which mean, in translation,
I do not know.
”

“And I am looking at the medications the physicians gave your son,” Colin said. “Listen to this—‘horn of unicorn.' There is no such animal as a unicorn, at least not known to man. What could they possibly have given him, perhaps the horn of a billy goat?” Colin began to grow angry. “Here it says ‘the grease of a heron and the fat of a vulture.'” His tone grew louder as anger filled his face. “And listen to this. They gave your son, so they say, ‘a bezoar stone.'”

“What in the world is that? I asked, but I could not understand the answer,” Lord Withington said.

“It is supposedly the stone taken from the intestines of a
Persian wild goat. And look, rooster testicles, crayfish eyes! On and on they tried all these remedies not knowing what they were.”

“I see you are angry, Mr. Winslow.”

“I am, my lord.”

“Well, what would your treatment be, sir?”

“That is for Dr. Teague to say.”

“We would both say the same, my lord,” Teague said flatly. “In the first place, no more bleeding and no more purging. Second, there will be no more of these harsh medicines that were poured down your poor son's throat. The things I would prescribe—and I think my young colleague would agree—are a good diet, very light at first, rest, and some very mild medication. That which has been tried and we know to be effective. No more bezoar stones, whatever the blasted things may be!”

“Very well, gentlemen. It shall be as you say.”

Leslie Farley prospered almost immediately with the treatment that the two men set forth. He slept long hours, and without the terrible purging and bleeding he gained strength. His diet was very bland at first, but then increased in richness. He grew stronger, and the color returned to his cheeks. He was able to get out of bed after three days, and within a week was well on his way to health. Satisfied, Teague said, “I must get back to my practice, I am afraid.”

Lady Benton said, “I would be afraid for you to leave, Dr. Teague—unless you could leave your colleague here with us. I still fear for my brother.”

Teague's eyebrows rose. He said in a spare tone, “If you insist, Lady Benton.”

Lady Benton did insist, and as Teague was leaving, the last thing he said as he got into his carriage was, “Be careful, boy!” He leaned out the window and grabbed Colin by the shoulder, pulled him close, and said fiercely, “That woman is a man eater!”

“I think you are mistaken, Dr. Teague. The only time I have ever thought so.”

Teague shook his head and released Colin, then said, “God keep you, boy. I hope he will save you from the clutches of that woman. I repeat, she is a man eater.”

The driver spoke to the team of horses, and the coach left. Colin thought,
Dr. Teague is a wise man, but he knows nothing of women. He has never been married or even had a sweetheart, as far as I know. He is mistaken about Lady Benton. He must be!

9

May 29, 1581

T
he two weeks that Colin had spent at Lord Withington's home after Teague's departure had sped by so quickly he hardly realized it. Actually, for the first time in two years he was not working eighteen hours a day. His duties were light: only to visit young Mr. Farley, and the young man had improved so drastically that this became a mere routine.

The weather was exceptional for May. Flowers seemed to explode into vibrant colors, and the grass was so green it almost hurt his eyes to look at it. For the first few days of his extended visit, Colin went out alone for long walks, but soon he was accompanied by Lady Benton. She was an expert horsewoman and insisted that Colin, who was in no way her equal in this skill, accompany her. Often they left early in the morning and stayed out until noon. Twice she had the cook pack a lunch, and they shared the meal under a huge yew tree beside a crystal-clear brook. Those had been some of the best days of Colin's life, and he knew he would treasure them always.

Lady Benton seemed intrigued by Colin's profession and even more so by his phenomenal memory. She teased him considerably about that and other things—especially his love life, or lack thereof. “You
must
have had sweethearts, Colin,” she said
one morning as they were riding their horses near the stream. The brook made a sibilant whisper and glittered in the morning sun. She moved her horse closer to his, so that they were very close indeed. When he turned to look at her, she was smiling at him and added, “Come now, what was your first sweetheart's name?”

“I've never had a sweetheart, Lady Benton.”

“I can't believe that! A handsome young man like you?”

“Well, you should see my brother, Adam, if you think I look well. He's
very
handsome, and so is my father. I'm much smaller, more like my mother. My father and my brother are both strong men, and I'm not much in that way.”

“I don't believe it.”

“It's true. Adam is the hero of the family. He sails with Drake, you know.”

“Yes, you've told me that, and I'm sure he's a wonderful sailor. Do you envy him, being the oldest son and heir to the title?”

“Oh, no, Lady Benton. Adam is the man to carry on the family name. We always knew that.”

“And you aren't a bit jealous?” she asked with a slight smile.

“Why, no, not at all. I'm happy with what I am doing.”

They traced the stream as it made a sweeping S-shape. Finally, as they stopped to water their horses, she said, “I think you are a very honest man—except when women are concerned. Now, you must let me give you some motherly advice.”

Colin stared at her. “Why, you're not old enough to be my mother.”

“Well, then, some sisterly advice. You must be careful, for there are clever women who would take advantage of your innocence.” She continued to tease him, something she enjoyed doing. Finally, when they dismounted, she reached out and took his hand. He stood very still and didn't know where to look, for he was indeed untutored in the ways of love. His heart had
always been set on learning, but this woman had affected him. As she held his hand, he shyly met her eyes and saw something in them that drew him and, at the same time, made him somehow ill at ease.

“I—I have grown very fond of you, Lady Benton.”

“I've become very fond of you, also, and when we're alone I insist that you call me Heather.” She squeezed his hand and moved closer, pressing against him. “We're good friends, aren't we, Colin?”

“Oh, yes!” Suddenly he blurted out, “You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!”

Suddenly, Heather laughed. “There! It took two weeks, but I finally got you to say what any other man would have said ten minutes after meeting me. I must take you under my wing, Colin.”

“To do what?”

“Why, to teach you how to win the love of women. You are far behind in that, for love isn't something you can learn out of one of your books.” She kissed him on the cheek. “There! Your sister gives you a kiss. Come now, we'll be late for our dinner!”

For three days after this encounter, Colin continued to relive that moment over and over. At times it seemed as if he could feel the touch of Heather's lips on his cheek, and he could not put her out of his mind. He tried desperately to shake off thoughts of her, but then would come a memory of how she had pressed herself against him, or how she would place her hand on his cheek with a smile. At times he recalled Teague's warning about her, but he would never allow himself to dwell on that. He had heard young men talk about the details of their love affairs, often in crude terms, but never had he been so confused about such things. He could not sleep for thinking of Heather and more than once almost decided to leave, but he found he could not tear himself away.

Lord and Lady Withington were grateful to Colin and interested in his life. One Thursday evening as the family finished dinner and were eating flavored ices, Lord Withington asked, “What's your goal in life, Mr. Winslow?”

“Why, to be a good physician and heal people.”

“That's indeed a noble goal,” Lady Withington said with a smile. “And you've made such wonderful progress—and so quickly!”

“Well, Dr. Teague has helped me. I could never have succeeded without his help.”

“I am sure he has,” Lady Benton said. “But you would be a success even by yourself with no help.”

“Certainly you would,” Leslie said. He had become fond of Colin, and the two had spent many hours together, mostly playing chess. Both of them loved the game. Colin had found he had a warm admiration for Leslie Farley.

A lively conversation went on for some time, and Colin consumed a great deal more wine than he was accustomed to. He became more excited as he talked, and the servants kept the wine glasses full. When he forgot to drink, it was Heather who reminded him, “Drink the wine, Colin, it's good for you. Doesn't it say that somewhere in the Bible?”

“I think that's in First Timothy,
chapter five
, and verse
twenty-three
.”

“You know the Bible very well!” Lord Withington exclaimed. “That is an excellent thing in a young man.”

Colin hesitated, then said, “I must tell you in all honesty, my lord, I am not a Christian.”

“That surprises me! How is it that you know Scripture so well but are not a believer?”

“My parents are the best Christians I know. They read to me from the Bible from the time I was very young. And I read the Bible for myself as I grew older. I memorize things easily, and the Bible is in my mind—but not in my heart, I fear.”

“Well, surely you will find God one day,” Lady Withington smiled. “I will pray that you do.”

By the time the meal was over and the family had excused themselves, Colin found that he walked unsteadily as he made his way to his room. He drank so infrequently that he didn't realize that he was actually drunk, perhaps because he was thinking of the wonderful time he was having with this family.

He entered his room and donned his usual sleeping costume, a simple pair of linen breeches cut off at the knees. He felt sleepy, but as he turned to the bed, he heard a faint knock on the door. He jerked around.
Who could that be this time of night?
Thinking it might be a servant coming to ask if he needed anything, he opened the door and was shocked to find Lady Benton. She was wearing a diaphanous blue robe over what appeared to be a very thin night dress and whispered urgently, “I have to see you, Colin.”

Colin stepped back to let her in, then mumbled thickly, “Let me get dressed, Heather.” He slipped into an old robe, then asked, “What is it, Heather?”

“I have to talk to you.”

She stepped inside, and Colin saw that her eyes were fixed on him in a strange way. Colin was not thinking clearly, but he had a momentary fear of what would happen if Lord Withington found his daughter in the bedroom of a guest. He tried to think, but the wine had numbed his mind. “What's wrong, Heather? Is Leslie all right?”

“It's not about him, Colin. I have to have your medical opinion.”

“But Dr. Teague is the one you should consult. I'm not actually a physician.”

“No, Colin, I'm afraid to talk to anyone but you.”

Colin shook his head, confused. He could smell the fragrance of her perfume, a musky scent. It seemed almost too
thick, yet drew him somehow into a state of excitement. “What's the matter, Lady Heather?”

“Jane Forrest, my best friend, died four months ago.”

“What did she die of?”

“Cancer. And I-I'm afraid I may have the same problem, Colin.”

“Oh, surely not, Heather! Most physical symptoms we have, more often than not, turn out to be nothing.”

Heather was watching him closely. Suddenly she reached out and took his hand. “No, I have this lump—here.” Taking his hand, she put it on her breast. “You see? There is a lump there, isn't there?”

Colin had made such examinations many times, but there was something different about this. His mind was cloudy with alcohol and the fullness of her breast. The exotic perfume and the look in her eyes seemed to draw the power of speech from him. Her eyes fixed on him. Colin could not help but notice the smooth curves of her body beneath the thin night dress. “I—I don't feel any lump.”

Pressing his hand tighter, she smiled, “You are a dear boy! I am so glad! I have been so frightened.” Suddenly she put her arms around his neck and pulled his head forward. She put herself against him and kissed him. Colin Winslow, at that moment, was totally helpless. He tried desperately to resist, but somehow all of his defenses were down. He knew nothing but the smoothness and the fullness of the woman. Suddenly, Heather laughed, “You're a sweet boy, Colin. Love me!”