“Your sanatorium has been highly recommended.”
“Oh? By whom?”
“Mr. Stackpoole.”
“Stackpoole!” The man leaned back in his chair as he looked at them. “How do you know him?”
“We have several mutual friends in London. Stackpoole says his mother has been here for several years and he has been satisfied with her care. Said she is calm and happy here.”
“Yes, yes, she has been.” His brows knitted together. “Have you spoken to Mr. Stackpoole recently?” he asked.
James shook his head. “Not recently. He has been ill.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. One last question, then I’ll take you to Dr. Worcham. It’s a delicate issue, and I apologize. We require your yearly income?—”
“I beg your pardon. You treat patients differently based on income?”
“No, no, not in terms of medical care. I assure you Dr. Worcham treats all of his patients equally and makes no difference. It is only my poor lot to assign patients to their lodgings and any extras in keeping with what they may be accustomed to having. Size of rooms, types of meals, assistance with dressing and care. These are the services that don’t relate to their health and speak more to what they are accustomed to receiving. Dr. Worcham believes we need to keep our patients comfortable to aid in their recovery and provide for them that to which they are accustomed. I ask for income so I can determine if they truly can afford what they would like or if, ultimately, they cannot pay. That can prove to be too embarrassing for all. I do not like to distress Dr. Worcham with such mundane matters or move patients from a large single room to shared accommodations. That does not help their treatment.”
Reluctantly James nodded. “I can see your concern. Trust that I am able to pay your fees,” he said severely.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said quickly. “Now may I ask the nature of your wife’s illness?”
“No, you may not,” James said, staring him down.
“I see. Well then, let me advise you of a few of the rules. Visitors are only allowed visitation in the great hall, where you first entered, or outside. We do encourage our patients to walk the grounds and visitors are welcome to join them.
“Dr. Worcham believes a good diet is important for the health of the body. We serve three meals a day at Camden House: Breakfast, a hearty meal to get the body alert, a lunch at 1 p.m., offering lighter fare designed to bridge the body’s needs until dinner which is at 5 p.m. The meals are simple fare, shunning heavy sauces. Dr. Worcham believes heavy sauces weigh one’s stomach down robbing one of energy.
“We do make attempts to satisfy all food favorites with one exception. Food items made or flavored with sugar or honey are forbidden. Dr. Worcham believes sweets can be detrimental to our equilibrium. I always advise this on registration, so spouses or relatives of patients know not to bring in sweet treats. They will be confiscated. Dr. Worcham wants everyone to know that on entry so there are no hard feelings later. Is this acceptable to you?” Mr. Turnbull-Minchin asked with steely professionalism.
It was clear to James and Cecilia the man did not like his financial requests being ignored and had dropped his overt friendliness. However, he was professional, and they had no trouble agreeing to the rules he laid out.
“Good,” Mr. Turnbull-Minchin said with a stiff nod. “Let me conduct you, then, to Dr. Worcham. He is generally in the library at this time of day, doing observations.” He stood up. “If you will follow me?”
CHAPTER 11
CAMDEN HOUSE SANATORIUM
He led them out of the small anteroom and through the decorative wrought iron gates to the passage Cecilia had seen the patients who came from outside go through. He opened the doors to a room on the left. Cecilia couldn’t help but smile when she looked about her. It was a room lined with whitewashed bookshelves. A library. There were two large windows at the far end of the room and with the whitewashed shelves and trim the room had a lighter, brighter feel. Around the room were various tables and chairs where patients played games, read together, or just sat and talked quietly. Armchairs and couches grouped near the fireplace were covered in a floral jacquard fabric. A grass-green carpet covered the floor. The room felt warm and intimate despite its large size.
Mr. Turnbull-Minchin led them to one of the seating arrangements near the fireplace. “Dr. Worcham, pardon the interruption,” he said with great deference at odds with his manner to James and Cecilia in his office, “Sir James and Lady Branstoke to see you.”
The doctor rose from his chair, excusing himself to those he had been speaking to when they approached. Though gray threaded his curly brown hair, Cecilia judged him to be someyears younger than the woman she’d met that morning at the linen drapers. And she was surprised to hear a Scottish burr in his voice. When he turned to them, he spread out his arms then drew them together in almost a prayer position. “Welcome to Camden House Sanatorium. Come, let’s find a quieter spot where we might get to know one another,” he said. “I don’t believe the small parlor is booked right now. We can go there,” he said, leading to a door in the middle of a wall of bookshelves. “This building is a warren of rooms,” he said as they entered a straw, brown-and-pale-rose-colored room.
The room was at once both more austere and formal than the library, the furniture severely angular without pillows or other softening elements.
“Now, tell me about yourself, Lady Branstoke,” he said as he settled her on a sofa and took a chair at right angles to her. He sat on the edge of his chair, clasping her hands in his.
“Even through yer gloves, I can feel the cold in yer fingers. Are ye frightened to be here? There is no need I assure ye. I know from Sir James’s letter that ye have been ill. Can ye tell me more?”
“Yes. We have been staying down in Kent, at our main estate this season, as I am expecting our first child.”
“I thought ye might be, looking at ye. Pregnant women have a certain look about them,” he said encouragingly. “But surely ye are not here because ye are enceinte?”
“No, no,” she said. “Over three weeks ago I came down with the influenza that has visited so many others in our region. It was particularly severe all around.”
“We lost a tenant farmer’s wife and a couple of village people to this illness,” James somberly explained.
