They settled into eating their luncheon.
Or, rather, Alex asked questions while Reverend Smith ate with single-minded focus and gave predominantly monosyllabic answers.
Yes, the weather was fine.
Yes, his health was excellent.
No, he did not wish to discuss, at the moment, why he was in this corner of England.
The man’s accent was an indiscriminate sort—educated enough to make pinpointing his exact origins difficult. Moreover, the reverend appeared to be sizing up Alex’s person, as if weighing the value of him. The man might be a vicar, but Alex had met card sharps with a less calculating demeanor.
On the whole, the meeting was jarringly unexpected.
After fifteen minutes, Alex glanced at his pocket watch yet again and recognized that he had, perhaps, been had for a fool.
How could this impoverished cleric have any information that was worth the effort and pain Alex had gone through to be here?
And why would the man wish to consult a doctor? If his appetite were any indication, Reverend Smith appeared hearty and hale.
“Ye said in your letter that ye wished tae consult with me about a medical matter?” Alex finally asked, shifting his aching leg with a wince. “I am eager to get on with the purpose of this meeting.”
“Yes.” Reverend Smith drank his tea with gusto. “The medical matter is not for myself, you see. It pertains to a friend.”
Of course.
Alex all but sighed.
It did appear that he had been grossly mistaken in Reverend Smith’s intentions.
Alex had been so caught up in his own desires to uncover more information aboutThe Minervathat he neglected to carefully scrutinize Reverend Smith’s bonafides.
“It is rather difficult to assess a patient who is not present,” Alex replied, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone.
If he noticed, Reverend Smith did not show it.
“I’m not sure if questioning the patient will help, to be honest,” the man replied.
“Yes, well, only a qualified physician should be allowed to make that decision,” Alex said, growing snippier.
“Perhaps.” Reverend Smith poured himself more tea, insensitive to Alex’s rising frustration.
The man seemed careless and haphazard. And yet, there was an air of deliberation about him that rendered Alex wary. A sense that the reverend could be either friend or foe, and Alex had no idea where the man would land in the end.
Reverend Smith fixed Alex with a pair of intelligent eyes. “To be brief, a friend of the family suffered a severe blow to the head several years ago, resulting in a total loss of memory of all events for months prior to the injury.”
“I see,” Alex said, “and ye wish tae know if this individual’s memory will heal in time?”
“I cannot assume that my friend’s memory will heal. It has been years since the injury.” Reverend Smith reached for another slice of cold ham. “Rather, if this friend is healthy otherwise, would it be ill-advised for them to undertake a rigorous journey?”
Alex frowned.Thiswas the question Reverend Smith had been desperate to have answered? It seemed a rather paltry thing.
“Without seeing and speaking with your friend in person, I cannot give a definitive medical opinion,” Alex replied.
Reverend Smith took the words in stride. “Does your opinion remain the same if I am concerned that the journey might bring back unwelcome memories?”
Alex’s frown deepened. “Unless the injury happened due to a similar sort of journey in the past, I cannot envision why such travel would incur a risk of jarring memories loose. But, again, without speaking directly with the patient—”
“And if the injurydidoccur during a similar journey?”
