back in full force.”
“I’m sure you’re not the entire source of your mother’s problems. I trust she’s feeling better today.”
“Much better. The medicine worked wonders. What did you say it was? Yellow dock? That’s an herb, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but she also needs the oxide of zinc,” Alexandra said. “She should have it applied several times a day.”
“Yellow dock and oxide of zinc? Not necessary. A simple soda-water bath is all that’s needed.” The pronouncement came from somewhere in the depths of the large and well-appointed library. Alexandra soon saw that the voice belonged to the portly and distinguished-looking gentleman standing near one of the bookshelves. He was balding, but with a white fringe of hair encircling his head just above his ears. The white fringe contrasted startlingly with his full black mustache. Alexandra recognized him immediately because she’d seen a drawing of him in a London medical journal. He was Sir William Jenner, one of the queen’s physicians.
“A soda bath offers minimal pain relief, to be sure,” Alexandra said, “but the yellow dock works better, and the oxide of zinc goes beyond that to promote healing of the lesions, Dr.—”
“Fowler,” he said, before she could speak his name. “Dr. Thomas Fowler at your service.” He bowed to her. “I am a friend of Her Ladyship’s. And of Sir Nicholas’s,” he added, giving Nicholas a quick glance.
“I see,” Alexandra said. So he didn’t want to reveal his true identity. He must have thought his name was so closely associated with the queen that it would give away the fact that Her Majesty was visiting the parish. He needn’t have worried. It wasn’t likely anyone other than she would recognize his name. “Am I to assume, now that you are here, Dr. Fowler, that Her Ladyship has no more need of my services? You will assume responsibility for her care?”
The doctor’s face took on a startled expression. “Assume responsibility of…Certainly not!” He seemed to collect himself somewhat. “I shan’t be here much longer, I’m afraid. Just came down to administer to…to Her Ladyship’s guest. I shall be leaving soon, and I’m sure I’m leaving Her Ladyship in…capable hands.” He seemed to be having difficulty speaking those last words, and Alexandra didn’t miss the disapproving look clamped on his face. She’d seen it before. Not many people approved of a woman working as a doctor.
He well might have voiced his disapproval had Crawford not reappeared, waiting in all his stiffness to be recognized.
“What is it, Crawford?” Nicholas said.
“Lady Forsythe wishes Dr. Gladstone to come to her room,” the footman said.
“Yes, by all means, go. You must go to Lady Forsythe,” the man who called himself Dr. Fowler said, obviously grateful for the opportunity not to dig himself deeper into a pit of his own deception.
Alexandra sputtered with an attempt to suppress her laughter as they left the library.
“So you know who the old fool is,” Nicholas said, laughing with her.
“He is by no means Dr. Fowler.”
“The queen’s physician. Very full of himself. His real name is Johnson or something.”
“Jenner,” Alexandra said. “Sir William Jenner.”
“He fancies himself so well known that everyone will associate him with you-know-who,” Nicholas said.
“Just as well,” Alexandra said, “since Her Majesty as well as Lady Forsythe are keen on not letting any hint of the royal presence here get out.”
“Dr. Gladstone? Is it you? What were you saying?” The sound of Lady Forsythe’s voice wafted out of her bedchamber.
“Yes, MaMa,” Nicholas said. “I’ve brought Dr. Gladstone.”
“Thank God. I’m ever so much better, but I want another treatment. I expect to be well by tomorrow.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better, my lady,” Alexandra said as she entered the room. “But we can’t rush these things. Rest will do you as much good as
“I’m sure you’re not the entire source of your mother’s problems. I trust she’s feeling better today.”
“Much better. The medicine worked wonders. What did you say it was? Yellow dock? That’s an herb, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but she also needs the oxide of zinc,” Alexandra said. “She should have it applied several times a day.”
“Yellow dock and oxide of zinc? Not necessary. A simple soda-water bath is all that’s needed.” The pronouncement came from somewhere in the depths of the large and well-appointed library. Alexandra soon saw that the voice belonged to the portly and distinguished-looking gentleman standing near one of the bookshelves. He was balding, but with a white fringe of hair encircling his head just above his ears. The white fringe contrasted startlingly with his full black mustache. Alexandra recognized him immediately because she’d seen a drawing of him in a London medical journal. He was Sir William Jenner, one of the queen’s physicians.
“A soda bath offers minimal pain relief, to be sure,” Alexandra said, “but the yellow dock works better, and the oxide of zinc goes beyond that to promote healing of the lesions, Dr.—”
“Fowler,” he said, before she could speak his name. “Dr. Thomas Fowler at your service.” He bowed to her. “I am a friend of Her Ladyship’s. And of Sir Nicholas’s,” he added, giving Nicholas a quick glance.
“I see,” Alexandra said. So he didn’t want to reveal his true identity. He must have thought his name was so closely associated with the queen that it would give away the fact that Her Majesty was visiting the parish. He needn’t have worried. It wasn’t likely anyone other than she would recognize his name. “Am I to assume, now that you are here, Dr. Fowler, that Her Ladyship has no more need of my services? You will assume responsibility for her care?”
The doctor’s face took on a startled expression. “Assume responsibility of…Certainly not!” He seemed to collect himself somewhat. “I shan’t be here much longer, I’m afraid. Just came down to administer to…to Her Ladyship’s guest. I shall be leaving soon, and I’m sure I’m leaving Her Ladyship in…capable hands.” He seemed to be having difficulty speaking those last words, and Alexandra didn’t miss the disapproving look clamped on his face. She’d seen it before. Not many people approved of a woman working as a doctor.
He well might have voiced his disapproval had Crawford not reappeared, waiting in all his stiffness to be recognized.
“What is it, Crawford?” Nicholas said.
“Lady Forsythe wishes Dr. Gladstone to come to her room,” the footman said.
“Yes, by all means, go. You must go to Lady Forsythe,” the man who called himself Dr. Fowler said, obviously grateful for the opportunity not to dig himself deeper into a pit of his own deception.
Alexandra sputtered with an attempt to suppress her laughter as they left the library.
“So you know who the old fool is,” Nicholas said, laughing with her.
“He is by no means Dr. Fowler.”
“The queen’s physician. Very full of himself. His real name is Johnson or something.”
“Jenner,” Alexandra said. “Sir William Jenner.”
“He fancies himself so well known that everyone will associate him with you-know-who,” Nicholas said.
“Just as well,” Alexandra said, “since Her Majesty as well as Lady Forsythe are keen on not letting any hint of the royal presence here get out.”
“Dr. Gladstone? Is it you? What were you saying?” The sound of Lady Forsythe’s voice wafted out of her bedchamber.
“Yes, MaMa,” Nicholas said. “I’ve brought Dr. Gladstone.”
“Thank God. I’m ever so much better, but I want another treatment. I expect to be well by tomorrow.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better, my lady,” Alexandra said as she entered the room. “But we can’t rush these things. Rest will do you as much good as
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