Malton thought her little better than she should be.
Dr. Strickland frowned as he listened to Cassie’s labored breathing. “Have you taken your paregoric, Miss Douglass?”
Cassie gasped out her best attempt at a yes.
Lina spoke up from her corner of the room. “I insisted she take it as soon as the wheezing began. Two teaspoons, though she dislikes the taste.”
“Try not to think about the taste, and concentrate on the good it does,” the doctor said, speaking to Cassie as if she’d been the one to answer. “Licorice and camphor open the lungs, and tincture of opium relaxes the spasms.”
Cassie nodded her understanding. She seemed less frightened, now that she had the doctor’s calm voice and unflappable manner to reassure her. Dr. Strickland had not only apprenticed as a surgeon but also studied medicine at the University of Edinburgh, and both Lina and Cassie had great faith in him.
Now Lina watched him with her sister, the doctor’s auburn head next to Cassie’s blond one. He really was most attractive—tall and lanky, with eyes as blue as Edward’s. She’d long suspected he had a tendre for her sister, though for some reason Cassie had never shown an answering interest.
He stayed with Cassie until her breathing eased and the opium began to take effect. When at last she was resting comfortably, he rose and picked up his medical bag.
Lina took the candlestick and escorted him from the room. “Thank you so much for coming here at such an early hour, and in such bitter cold.”
He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s part and parcel of the profession.”
And so was being paid, though heaven only knew when she’d be able to settle his fee. “I’d offer you tea before you go, but Sarah bought a new supply, and our tea is almost as bad as the paregoric.”
He laughed. “Surely not as dreadful as that.”
“Well, perhaps not that bad, but it does have the most disagreeable taste, like sour spearmint.”
The doctor had been leading the way down the stairs, but at this he stopped and turned to look back at her. “Sour spearmint, you say?”
“Yes, it’s really quite horrid.”
A flicker of concern crossed his face. “Would you mind if I had a look at this tea, Lady Radbourne?”
What an odd request. But she’d sooner discuss the tea than the money she owed him, so she escorted him to the kitchen. She had to stand on tiptoe to take the tea caddy from its shelf in the cupboard. “Here it is.”
He set down his medical bag to accept the little rosewood chest from her hands. “You don’t lock the cupboard or the caddy?”
“No, why should we? Sarah is the only kitchen servant, and she’s been with us since Cassandra and I were children. We trust her, and she guards her domain like a hawk whenever Eli wanders in—though we trust him too, for that matter.”
Dr. Strickland lifted the lid and peered down at the tealeaves. Giving the caddy a shake, he inhaled deeply. “My God.” He looked up and met Lina’s eyes, his face slack with shock. “How much of this have you been drinking?”
“Not much. I poured a cup yesterday afternoon, but the taste was so strange I couldn’t finish it, and I was too queasy to have any in the evening. Colonel Vaughan recommended tea and toast for my appetite, so I was going to force myself to drink some with breakfast this morning, but—”
“Don’t. Don’t drink another drop of this.” The doctor snapped the caddy shut and pushed it back into Lina’s hands. “Throw it away, every bit of it, and see to it no one brings tea like this into the house again.”
The hair on the back of Lina’s neck stood up. “Why? What’s the matter with it?”
“This is pennyroyal tea. It’s the last thing a hopeful mother should be drinking.”
“Pennyroyal tea...?”
“It’s an abortifacient.” His lips firmed to a grim line. “Desperate girls have been taking it for centuries to rid themselves of unwanted babies.”
Chapter Five
How
Dr. Strickland frowned as he listened to Cassie’s labored breathing. “Have you taken your paregoric, Miss Douglass?”
Cassie gasped out her best attempt at a yes.
Lina spoke up from her corner of the room. “I insisted she take it as soon as the wheezing began. Two teaspoons, though she dislikes the taste.”
“Try not to think about the taste, and concentrate on the good it does,” the doctor said, speaking to Cassie as if she’d been the one to answer. “Licorice and camphor open the lungs, and tincture of opium relaxes the spasms.”
Cassie nodded her understanding. She seemed less frightened, now that she had the doctor’s calm voice and unflappable manner to reassure her. Dr. Strickland had not only apprenticed as a surgeon but also studied medicine at the University of Edinburgh, and both Lina and Cassie had great faith in him.
Now Lina watched him with her sister, the doctor’s auburn head next to Cassie’s blond one. He really was most attractive—tall and lanky, with eyes as blue as Edward’s. She’d long suspected he had a tendre for her sister, though for some reason Cassie had never shown an answering interest.
He stayed with Cassie until her breathing eased and the opium began to take effect. When at last she was resting comfortably, he rose and picked up his medical bag.
Lina took the candlestick and escorted him from the room. “Thank you so much for coming here at such an early hour, and in such bitter cold.”
He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s part and parcel of the profession.”
And so was being paid, though heaven only knew when she’d be able to settle his fee. “I’d offer you tea before you go, but Sarah bought a new supply, and our tea is almost as bad as the paregoric.”
He laughed. “Surely not as dreadful as that.”
“Well, perhaps not that bad, but it does have the most disagreeable taste, like sour spearmint.”
The doctor had been leading the way down the stairs, but at this he stopped and turned to look back at her. “Sour spearmint, you say?”
“Yes, it’s really quite horrid.”
A flicker of concern crossed his face. “Would you mind if I had a look at this tea, Lady Radbourne?”
What an odd request. But she’d sooner discuss the tea than the money she owed him, so she escorted him to the kitchen. She had to stand on tiptoe to take the tea caddy from its shelf in the cupboard. “Here it is.”
He set down his medical bag to accept the little rosewood chest from her hands. “You don’t lock the cupboard or the caddy?”
“No, why should we? Sarah is the only kitchen servant, and she’s been with us since Cassandra and I were children. We trust her, and she guards her domain like a hawk whenever Eli wanders in—though we trust him too, for that matter.”
Dr. Strickland lifted the lid and peered down at the tealeaves. Giving the caddy a shake, he inhaled deeply. “My God.” He looked up and met Lina’s eyes, his face slack with shock. “How much of this have you been drinking?”
“Not much. I poured a cup yesterday afternoon, but the taste was so strange I couldn’t finish it, and I was too queasy to have any in the evening. Colonel Vaughan recommended tea and toast for my appetite, so I was going to force myself to drink some with breakfast this morning, but—”
“Don’t. Don’t drink another drop of this.” The doctor snapped the caddy shut and pushed it back into Lina’s hands. “Throw it away, every bit of it, and see to it no one brings tea like this into the house again.”
The hair on the back of Lina’s neck stood up. “Why? What’s the matter with it?”
“This is pennyroyal tea. It’s the last thing a hopeful mother should be drinking.”
“Pennyroyal tea...?”
“It’s an abortifacient.” His lips firmed to a grim line. “Desperate girls have been taking it for centuries to rid themselves of unwanted babies.”
Chapter Five
How
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