Page 20 of The Gentleman Physician

The small party said little in the carriage, for which he was grateful. His bag rested beneath his feet, as he believed in always being ready to aid someone in need. Some of his medical peers scoffed at his constant readiness, telling him a doctor could set hours for seeing to patients as ladies set hours for taking callers.

But Nathaniel had seen the fear in a mother’s eyes before, the loss of hope in a husband’s face, and causing another creature to experience such dread for even a second more than necessary went against his nature.

When they arrived, Miss Felicity looked up at the house and gasped. “Oh, this is Lady Heatherton’s home. I know her.” She hurried to step down and followed him inside, Mrs. Laurent following behind as if such late-night visits to houses of sickness were perfectly normal. Nathaniel counted his blessings that both ladies were sensible.

Thurston was waiting for them. It wasn’t late, by society’s standards. But Nathaniel could guess that those usually sleeping were wide awake in this house. Nathaniel made quick introductions of the ladies in his care and put them in the butler’s hands, then nearly ran up to the nursery as soon as he could cast off his coat.

A maid waited at the top of the stair to guide him up another flight of stairs and down a smaller hallway. A door stood open and he could hear quiet voices and rustling from inside. Nathaniel didn’t pause but walked directly into the room.

The sight that met his eyes reaffirmed his decision to hurry and his gratitude for Miss Felicity’s compassion.

Two little beds were against a wall, a lamp glowing between them, and a small fire crackled in the grate. One bed was empty, that boy likely removed from the room when his brother was discovered to be ill. Nurse Smyth was missing, too.

Julia sat on the bed, holding the little boy in her arms, while Lady Heatherton knelt beside them, bathing his forehead with a cool cloth. Both women looked up when he entered, their faces pale. Julia’s shoulders sagged and her eyes lifted to him, obviously relieved to have him there. The baroness gasped and came to her feet at once.

“Doctor Hastings, thank goodness,” she said, then put her hands to her cheeks as she began to cry. The poor woman had run herself into the ground, caring for her husband and worrying over everyone else. Though Nathaniel knew she did it from love, he also knew he would be ordering her to stay in her bed tomorrow as much as possible.

“Tell me what his symptoms are,” he said, going to take her place, kneeling by the boy.

The child was pale and one touch confirmed a fever. He was awake and wheezing as he breathed. Julia held him close to her, humming a gentle lullaby. Nathaniel lifted the boy’s nightshirt and checked the movement of his chest.

“When he went to bed, he said his throat ached.” Lady Heatherton spoke softly but with haste. “Julia gave him a comfit and that helped, as it did yesterday. He drank some water. That was three hours ago, and then Nurse Smyth came to get us. She said he was coughing terribly. It’s such a horrid sound—” She broke off when the boy’s coughing began.

Nathaniel had heard the sound before and he immediately relaxed. The fever was the most worrisome concern. The child’s cough sounded abrupt, painful, but like the bark of a seal Nathaniel had heard once, on holiday.

“Croup,” he said, helping to sit the child up more. “He has croup.” He cast his gaze toward Julia, meeting her tired eyes and smiling into them, trying to reassure her, before he turned to Lady Heatherton. “It is a bad cough and will go away with time. The damp can cause it, but so long as he continues breathing strongly, we have nothing to worry about. The best thing we can do at present is apply a mustard plaster to his chest and continue to keep him cool while he runs this fever. He’s a strong lad, my lady. This will pass in a few days.”

Lady Heatherton’s form went limp and she dropped onto the foot of the bed. “Thank heaven,” she whispered, raising a trembling hand to cover her eyes.

“I can’t say that’s something I’ve heard people say about croup,” Nathaniel said, keeping his words gentle and his tone light. He met Julia’s eyes, half-lidded with relief, and saw the color returning to her cheeks.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she near-whispered. She gently tucked a lock of hair back from the child’s forehead. “I will see about the plaster for Edward.”

Nathaniel helped her raise Edward from her lap, and Lady Heatherton swiftly took her son up in her arms. Julia left the bed and slipped from the room.

“Lady Heatherton,” Nathaniel said, gesturing to the boy. “Might I listen to his chest?”

“Yes. Of course.”

It was as he suspected. When the boy breathed in, there was a small rattling sound, but nothing alarming. Croup was common enough in children, and often reared its head at night or in the first hours of the child’s waking.

“Give him plenty of water with lemon and honey,” he instructed the baroness. “His brother can come back in the room if it won’t disturb his sleep. And you ought to let his nurse tend to him as much as possible. Your health is of great importance, Lady Heatherton, and you need your rest.”

She chuckled without much humor, and kissed her son’s forehead. “How could I ever rest, Doctor Hastings? My husband is dying, my son’s whole body shakes with this cough, and everyone expects me to keep control of myself and this household.”

Her forthright answer surprised him, no less for the defeated tone than the personal nature of her words. The dark circles under her eyes, the lack of color in her cheeks, gave him good reason to worry for her. Nathaniel also suspected she had lost some weight.

“You must let others help you, my lady,” he said, fixing her with his most professional frown. As young as he was, it didn’t yet carry the weight of a doctor with more experience, but he hoped she would see how serious he remained. “Your cousin wishes to be put to greater use. Give her more to do. Rely on the good people you have working for you. Tend only to those things which most need doing and let the rest wait until you have recovered your strength.”

She sighed and nodded. “I will do my best to follow your orders, Doctor.”

“See that you do.” He looked down at the boy to see him sound asleep. “There now. After the plaster is applied, he should sleep better. I will write out my directions for you and the nurse. Have you paper and pen?”

“Downstairs,” she told him. “And would you be so good as to send a maid up with your notes? I haven’t the strength to move at present.”

“Yes, my lady.” He stood and bowed. “I will write everything down and come back in the morning to see how he does.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “For everything, Doctor Hastings. I can see we disturbed your evening, and I am sorry for that.”