—PORCUPINUSPELAGIOUS, THESCANDALIZADE,1750
CHAPTER17
Miss Lamb.” Dr. Taylor stopped her in the corridor the following week. “May I ask how Anne is faring?”
“Fine. I have just come from her. She is sated and sleeping peacefully.”
“I am glad of it.” He hesitated. “I don’t suppose ...”
“What is it?”
“It’s just that I am in a bit of a bind. I need to make a brief call on a patient, one who is quite adamant about needing a female chaperone, and neither Gibbs nor Mrs. Krebs can get away at present. I have just come from Mrs. Moorling’s office, though it would have been quite presumptuous to ask her such a thing, but she is out for the evening.”
“You need me to accompany you?”
“I know it is difficult for you to get away . .”
“Anne will most likely sleep for another two or three hours. I am sure Mae would be happy to listen and tend her should she awaken. How long would we be?”
“Only an hour or so. But I don’t want to impose on you. And while we are both aware of how insensitive I can be on points of propriety, I realize it would not be proper to ask you to ride alone with me in the carriage.”
“Is it urgent?”
“Not really. Some stitches I need to attend to, make sure no infection sets in. I promised I would be by tonight and the night is nearly gone. It really should not wait until tomorrow. But perhaps she will forgive me arriving on my own this once. When I explain.”
“She lives alone, then?”
“Well, not alone exactly. She has three children in her care. Two are her own, one she wet-nurses for hire.”
“I see.”
“Well, I must away. Pardon me for speaking before I thought through the notion.”
He bowed and walked past her, setting his hat upon his head and lacing his arms through the sleeves of his coat.
Charlotte turned and watched him go.
“Might I have a moment to collect my wrap and speak to Mae?” she called after him.
He turned and looked at her, his face weary. “Of course. If you are certain you do not mind.”
She shrugged and smiled blithely. “I shall wear my most concealing bonnet.”
And she did.
They rode through the cobbled streets of London in relative silence.
“Do you often make calls at this late hour?” Charlotte asked lightly. She was unprepared for the thick silence which answered her question. She glanced over and saw Dr. Taylor’s eyes narrow. He took a corner rather more sharply than needed and urged the horse forward with a click of his tongue.
“No,” he answered dully.
She nodded but kept her eyes forward. His tone invited no further inquiry. She did wonder, though, what was special about this particular patient to bring him out for a call this late in the evening—and having to bring someone with him too. The patient was a wet nurse, was she not? No genteel nor wealthy lady that she should have such influence over a physician.
When they halted in front of a worn three-story tenement and Dr. Taylor did not even offer his hand in helping her descend, Charlotte knew his mind was preoccupied and the task ahead an unpleasant one. She lifted her skirts a bit more than she would have liked, but managed to step down to the filthy street without mishap.
“Dr. Taylor!” She was obliged to call, for he was already inside the doorway without her, as if he had forgotten she was behind him.
He looked back, winced, and then held the door open for her as she stepped through. He stopped at the first door on the left.
