The Fire's Center (21 page)

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Authors: Shannon Farrell

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"Yes, sir?" she asked, poking her head around the portal.

 

"I have a prescription for you to make up, please, Miss Connolly, for Mrs. Hargreaves here. And can you please just write some notes for me in her file?" Lucien instructed.

 

Lucien listed the woman’s symptoms, and diagnosed anemia. Riona looked at the patient carefully, noting her telltale pallor and her general air of listlessness.

 

"Try some spinach as well," Riona added, after making up the tonic as Lucien had instructed.

 

Lucien raised his eyebrows but said nothing, and Mrs. Hargreaves thanked her profusely and left.

 

"Spinach?’ Lucien asked with a pointed look once they were alone.

 

"It grows easily in sandy soil, and all the women where I come from eat it after childbirth. They say it’s good for the milk." Riona shrugged.

 

"I’ll have to remember that," Lucien said quietly, staring at Riona for a long time.

 

"I’m sorry. You’re angry with me," Riona said as she ducked her head and got ready to leave the room.

 

"No no, not at all, just surprised. If you have time, I’d like you to write down all those things you remember from your mother and the other wise women, if you don’t mind."

 

"Well, if you think it will help," Riona replied doubtfully.

 

"I do, I really do, so don’t look so worried, girl! I think you were right when you said we only ever see sick people. Wouldn’t it be nice to teach them to be more healthy?"

 

 
Riona smiled softly. "You’d be out of a job, Lucien."

 

"Sometimes, on bad days, I think that would be just fine," Lucien suddenly confessed with a sigh.

 

Riona’s eyebrows shot upwards. "But you help so many people!"

 

"True, but I have to confess to you, that when I first started, I really didn’t have a sincere calling. I actually became a doctor in order to spite my father."

 

"I'm sure that's not true—"

 

"It is, I'm afraid. The Woulfes had been in Ireland since the first invaders encroached upon Irish territory. We were landed gentry, noblesse oblige and all that.

 

"But I wanted to be different. I didn’t want scores of peasant tugging their forelocks at me, and I certainly wasn’t interested in farming and hunting. My father was like someone from the dark ages, strict, rigid, interested only in landed wealth. He once told me proudly that he had never done a day’s work with his hands.

 

"But Quentin and I rebelled, and I went into medicine. I had been interested in veterinary arts, I must admit, and only knew anything about that because we had so many hunters and sheep and cattle about the place."

 

Lucien suddenly paused, and swallowed hard. He looked away from Riona as he revealed, "Then one day, my younger sister, who was about ten at the time, to my fifteen, took a fit and died. My mother was inconsolable, and died not long after her, probably from grief. With her gone, my family life was never the same again. After watching what happened to my sister, and having to sit by and watch my mother fade away, I vowed then and there that I would dedicate myself to healing people, no matter what my father said."

 

"I’m sorry. I had no idea." Riona stretched out a hand to rest it on Lucien’s shoulder.

 

He stood up from his chair then and looked moodily out the window. At length he said grimly, "It was a long time ago, and I’m not telling you the story for your sympathy. It's so you can understand that I can comprehend your grief over your losses, at least a little, but also, that my motives for what I do are not entirely pure.

 

"I'm no hero, as you seem to think I am, Riona. I stuck at medicine only because my father predicted failure for me. He died in a hunting accident just before I received my qualifications, so I never got the satisfaction of showing him he was wrong."

 

He turned to face her fully now as he confessed,
 
"But for a long time medicine, the sick, didn’t have very much appeal. I’ve treated spoilt, rich patients with very little wrong with them that a few weeks of moderate diet and exercise wouldn’t cure.

 

"But with the disaster in Ireland in the past few years, I began to feel that I actually had a gift, which I should not allow to go to waste. Well, maybe not a gift, more of a skill, really. At any rate, I've tried to set up the clinic to help others. I have the time and the energy. I have a small enough practice, elite, but I don’t lack for money. Quentin invests my capital wisely, and I am prospering, so why shouldn’t I help?

 

"But the truth of the matter is, I think I lack that spark of enthusiasm that one needs to be really successful, a true love of something. Though I must say, after talking to you, I find in myself the first stirrings of excitement and interest for a long time," Lucien admitted.

 

"Perhaps it's because I'm curious myself, because I’m enjoying all you teach me, that you've become filled with enthusiasm. Have you ever thought about lecturing in medicine rather that practising yourself?"

 

Lucien looked surprised by the idea, but then nodded and smiled. "You know, Riona you could be right. Perhaps teaching is the exciting part. Many of the lecturers at college didn’t practice, although I now also realize that without real patients, some of their methods could become outdated very quickly, or they could be ignorant of many of the things which I learnt in just my first few months of setting up practice."

 

"Well, no one is asking you to give up your practice to teach at the college, but you could teach me, couldn’t you? I mean, if it helps. I want to learn, and I need to if I am to be you apothecary," Riona suggested.

 

"All right, I will teach you. Once things settle down and the clinic is open, we can set aside some time each day for lessons, and I can talk to the people in the college. I'll see if they will let you view some of their demonstrations and so on.

 

"They will probably severely object to a woman, you know," she warned.

 

"I don’t care," he said adamantly.

 

"Then neither do I."

 

"Just as well. If you are tough enough to watch a dissection, you ought to be tough enough to ignore any narrow-minded criticism. Just make sure you wear your plainest dresses, and sit at the back with your back to a window so they’ll be blinded if they try to stare you out of it. Mind you, with a face like yours, they’ll be bedazzled by your charms anyway," Lucien suddenly added with a grin.

 

"Don’t be silly." Riona blushed, and reminded him with a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece that his next patient was due any moment.

 

"Go back into the study then, and carry on with whatever you were doing." Lucien waved her away with an indulgent smile.

 

Riona did as he told her, and carried on her note-taking concerning the fever book, and then went to check downstairs on the arrangements for lunch.

 

"Everything is in order, Miss," Mrs. Kinsella advised her, lifting up several saucepan lids for her to inspect their contents.

 

"Lovely soup. Oh, and that sauce is exquisite," Riona praised as she sampled a spoonful of each.

 

Then she looked at the herbs sitting on the cutting board nearby.

 

"I say, Mrs. Kennedy, where did you get these from?"

 

"From the market, nice and fresh."

 

"Do you suppose they would be able to get some other kinds of herbs if I gave you a list? All I need are some cuttings."

 

Mrs. Kennedy nodded. "I could certainly try."

 

"Where could I find some plant pots and soil?"

 

"I can get that for you down the market as well, if Bob is allowed to come with me one morning."

 

"Yes, I am sure that would be fine. Ask next time you go, and bring me back what you can from the list I’ll give you, won’t you?" Riona asked with a smile.

 

"I’ll do my best, Miss."

 

At the back of the house was a small paved terrace, with a few weeds straggling in the small beds. The medical room study opened out onto it via the window, and Riona gazed at it and made some plans for how best to utilise the space.

 

She spoke to Lucien about it when she brought him in a tray of coffee just before eleven.

 

"It sounds a good idea, Riona, but are you sure you’ll have enough time?" Lucien asked worriedly.

 

"I will, I promise."

 

"All right, then, I give you permission to do whatever you think has to be done to get it into shape as a first-class herb garden," Lucien said as he accepted his cup of coffee from her.

 

"The candidates will be arriving soon. I hear a carriage. That must be Mr. Benn and Mr. Sturton," Riona observed, peering out the window.

 

"Is my stock straight?" Lucien asked, coming over to her side.

 

Riona looked up into his incredible golden eyes while she adjusted it with nimble fingers. Then she dusted off the lapels of his jacket.

 

"There, picture perfect." Riona smiled softly.

 

 
Lucien took one of her hands briefly. "You will of course stay in the room and make notes, won’t you?"

 

"If you wish."

 

"Really, I value your opinion, and you might pick up on things that we don’t notice."

 

"I still think though, no matter what you and I say, some pressure has been brought to bear about certain of the appointments," Riona guessed.

 

"Surely Edward and Stewart wouldn’t…." Lucien began to protest.

 

Riona argued, "They would to keep the peace and hold the committee together."

 

Lucien looked worried then, but there was no time to discuss the matter further, for Edward and Stewart entered the room at that moment. The interviews were about to begin.

 
Chapter Fifteen
 

 

 

Edward Sturton and Stewart Benn removed their cloaks and handed them to Niamh the maid, then came further into the room to greet Lucien and Riona.

 

After accepting a cup of coffee from Riona, they set about the day’s business.

 

Riona’s assessment of the situation proved to be completely correct, that Mr. Benn and Mr. Sturton would do anything to keep the peace amongst the committee members.

 

 
After a long drawn out process, when it came time to make the final list of four doctors, Edward Sturton and Stewart Benn had Dr. O’Carroll and Dr. O’Shea heading the top of their lists, whilst Riona and Lucien both had Dr. Kennedy and Dr. Briggs. Runners up for the posts on each list were Dr. Menteith and Dr. Somerville.

 

"And I tell you, Stewart, for the hundredth time, they may look good on paper, but I really don’t believe they are suitable. They've only applied to advance their careers, rub shoulders with the committee, the people who count, so to speak. As soon as a better offer comes along, we will have to replace them, and by then these two more promising candidates will be long gone!"

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