Turbulence that is creating your difficulties. Think of a carriage drawn by eight wild horses. We must put those kicking, screaming beasts under control before the coach can proceed in an orderly fashion.”
Or we could find a better driver, Kasey thought, waiting for the doctor to say something helpful, something that might end this nightmare once and for all.
“Control is the key,” Bannister was going on. “Moderation in all things, to let the mind recover from the storm within, to set those horses to a gentle gallop along the straight, true path. I have formulated a regimen of daily activities designed specifically to calm the nervous disposition, to extinguish firestorms in the brain. It consists of healthful exercise, nourishing foods, adequate rest, some herbal infusions as needed, and no overstimulation of the senses. I insist my patients adhere to the regimen, or the scientific benefits will be wasted.”
“You think such a course of treatment can help my condition?”
“I truly do believe that, Your Grace. I have wagered my reputation on the Theory of Turbulence, and continue to believe, despite setbacks. We have cured many a young female of hysterical paroxysms with these methods, and I see no reason Your Grace could not benefit also. A month or two should see an immense—”
“A month? I have to be back in Town for an important vote in Parliament Tuesday next. And a decision on those canal investments. I can spare a sennight, and that is all.”
“Wild horses, my dear duke,” the doctor reminded.
“No, a wild brother on his own in Town. A week.”
“Very well, we shall see what we can accomplish in that short time.” Then the disgraced doctor had to bring up another awkward topic, payment for his services. Bannister didn’t find the discussion of finances quite as embarrassing as the duke’s love affairs, but he blushed, nevertheless.
As well the charlatan should, Kasey thought, after naming such an exorbitant sum for one week’s effort. With such a purse, the duke could have bought those eight blasted carriage horses and hired a competent trainer besides. It might be worth it, however, His Grace decided. He had nowhere else to turn. What if he accepted the invitation to a house party and his host’s ancestors started prattling from the portrait gallery?
Granted, only his own creation had been conversing so far, but who knew the depths of his dementia? He agreed to pay the king’s ransom, albeit the King was not cured.
“Good, good. I will ring for my niece to come down. She will be your guide for the week.”
“Your niece?”
“Yes, my niece acts as my assistant, helping our guests follow the proscribed course while I continue my research.” He gestured toward the pen and stacks of paper in front of him. “My journals, you see. Someday the medical world will clamor to view these notes that reveal the secrets of mental equilibrium. Meanwhile Lilyanne has achieved considerable success with the young ladies entrusted to our care. I’ll send for her now.” He rang a small hand bell on his desk.
Kasey must have seen the man’s niece, he thought, as he’d driven up the carriage drive. A well-endowed female had been strolling about the lawns, holding a pink-tasseled parasol over her head. The silly thing was useless, for the fair-haired lady’s cheeks were already pinkened. Either that or she was wearing as much face paint as a Covent Garden familiar. If that was Bannister’s niece, Kasey decided, he would not stay to waste his time and his money. If he’d thought he could exorcize the woman in the painting between another female’s thighs, the duke would have stayed in London. “I believe I saw your niece out upon the grounds. A, ah, lovely woman, I am sure, but I fear I have reconsidered my decision to—”
“No, no, that must have been Lady Edgecombe, our other guest, on her constitutional. Sad story, that, I am sorry to say.”
“You haven’t been able to help
Or we could find a better driver, Kasey thought, waiting for the doctor to say something helpful, something that might end this nightmare once and for all.
“Control is the key,” Bannister was going on. “Moderation in all things, to let the mind recover from the storm within, to set those horses to a gentle gallop along the straight, true path. I have formulated a regimen of daily activities designed specifically to calm the nervous disposition, to extinguish firestorms in the brain. It consists of healthful exercise, nourishing foods, adequate rest, some herbal infusions as needed, and no overstimulation of the senses. I insist my patients adhere to the regimen, or the scientific benefits will be wasted.”
“You think such a course of treatment can help my condition?”
“I truly do believe that, Your Grace. I have wagered my reputation on the Theory of Turbulence, and continue to believe, despite setbacks. We have cured many a young female of hysterical paroxysms with these methods, and I see no reason Your Grace could not benefit also. A month or two should see an immense—”
“A month? I have to be back in Town for an important vote in Parliament Tuesday next. And a decision on those canal investments. I can spare a sennight, and that is all.”
“Wild horses, my dear duke,” the doctor reminded.
“No, a wild brother on his own in Town. A week.”
“Very well, we shall see what we can accomplish in that short time.” Then the disgraced doctor had to bring up another awkward topic, payment for his services. Bannister didn’t find the discussion of finances quite as embarrassing as the duke’s love affairs, but he blushed, nevertheless.
As well the charlatan should, Kasey thought, after naming such an exorbitant sum for one week’s effort. With such a purse, the duke could have bought those eight blasted carriage horses and hired a competent trainer besides. It might be worth it, however, His Grace decided. He had nowhere else to turn. What if he accepted the invitation to a house party and his host’s ancestors started prattling from the portrait gallery?
Granted, only his own creation had been conversing so far, but who knew the depths of his dementia? He agreed to pay the king’s ransom, albeit the King was not cured.
“Good, good. I will ring for my niece to come down. She will be your guide for the week.”
“Your niece?”
“Yes, my niece acts as my assistant, helping our guests follow the proscribed course while I continue my research.” He gestured toward the pen and stacks of paper in front of him. “My journals, you see. Someday the medical world will clamor to view these notes that reveal the secrets of mental equilibrium. Meanwhile Lilyanne has achieved considerable success with the young ladies entrusted to our care. I’ll send for her now.” He rang a small hand bell on his desk.
Kasey must have seen the man’s niece, he thought, as he’d driven up the carriage drive. A well-endowed female had been strolling about the lawns, holding a pink-tasseled parasol over her head. The silly thing was useless, for the fair-haired lady’s cheeks were already pinkened. Either that or she was wearing as much face paint as a Covent Garden familiar. If that was Bannister’s niece, Kasey decided, he would not stay to waste his time and his money. If he’d thought he could exorcize the woman in the painting between another female’s thighs, the duke would have stayed in London. “I believe I saw your niece out upon the grounds. A, ah, lovely woman, I am sure, but I fear I have reconsidered my decision to—”
“No, no, that must have been Lady Edgecombe, our other guest, on her constitutional. Sad story, that, I am sorry to say.”
“You haven’t been able to help
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