He resented being ordered to remain there when he had other patients to attend to, patients who truly needed his care. But Lady Regina Winslow had been adamant that he stay. Now he looked at her with an expression very near grim satisfaction, as if to say I told you it would be of no use. As he packed his case, he shook his head.
"Where are you going?" she demanded, her fingers protectively pulling the heavy coverlet back over the child.
The physician turned. "There's nothing more I can do. As far as I can see, there are no broken bones. She's alive, but that's about all. There's that nasty bump on her head and all those bruises. She must have been battered about in the water for a long time. It's beyond me how she survived at all. Children that small are usually not good swimmers."
"You can't leave," Regina informed him, her eyes briefly leaving the child. "What must be done when she awakens?"
"I can't be certain that she will awaken," the physician replied. "I've seen it before. Very often they never awaken with a head wound like that." He sniffed indignantly. "You must prepare yourself to accept the worst."
"No!" Regina rounded the bed with purposeful strides, fists clenched. "She's not going to die, and you're not leaving."
"I have other patients in far greater need than this child. I've a woman waiting to give birth, and several men needing my attention." He implied that she was responsible for the injuries of the men who'd tried to reach theVenturer.
But Regina wasn't fooled. She knew the sort of people who lived at Land's End. They preyed on salvage taken from foundering ships, and many vessels sank off this wild and forbidding coastline. It was the promise of finding gold coin that had prodded villagers to search for survivors. And they'd have their gold. She'd gladly pay it. The child's life was worth it.
Regina's eyes hardened. Devil take him, she'd do without the man. She didn't trust anyone who turned away from a stricken child.
The physician stopped beside Cedric. "This has happened before," he told him. "The child is probably not even her granddaughter. She could be from any one of a half-dozen villages along the coast. They wander down to the rocks, disobedient little beggars. We have at least one wash ashore every storm. The next year, their parents replace them with another."
"Get the bloody hell out of here before I throw you out! You're not fit to breathe the same air as that child!" Cedric's eyes glittered with contempt, and he moved toward the physician, the man's words nonetheless churning doubts he hadn't wanted to admit—the child might not be Regina's granddaughter. The physician shrugged and quickly left the room, practically colliding with a young maid on the stairs. The girl squawked, as she re-balanced a tray holding hot broth.
"Watch it, guv'ner. Why's he in such a bleedin' hurry?" She entered the sparsely furnished room, deposited the tray on a small table, and came around the side of the bed to peer at the small face poking through the blankets.
"Not much left of 'er is there?" The maid glanced uncertainly from Regina to Cedric, then quickly apologized on seeing Regina's stricken expression.
"I didn't mean nothin' by it. It's just that she's so small, and she's gone through so much." She fingered the coverlet, smoothing the fabric. "She needs one of me mam's special potions. It always fixes us up right fine when we come down with a bit of the ague. It has a wee dram of rum in the mix, for medicinal purposes of course," she added.
Regina fixed the girl with a penetrating stare. "Rum?"
The girl beamed. "Right ya are, mum. A good dose of rum, sugar, saffron... "
"And a touch of camphor," Regina finished for her. She smiled at the girl's open admiration.
"Now how would a lady like you be knowin' about that?"
"My mother was from the moors." Regina smiled. "She always swore by the cure. If it didn't kill you, it would cure you. It's a far better cure than any that physician could offer." Regina's contempt for the man was evident.
"Can you find the ingredients?"
"Sure enough!" The girl bobbed her head. "Me mam keeps a good supply at home. I'll have to see if I can get away. Old Harry don't like me sneakin' off during workin' hours."
"You tell the innkeeper I've sent you on an errand. He'll be compensated for his inconvenience," Regina assured her. Then she turned to Cedric. "I'll need your help."
"Anything, my dear." He pushed aside the physician's comments for the moment. Right then, it didn't matter who the child was. The doubts would return later, when the child recovered... if she recovered.
"We'll need lots of wood for the fire." She motioned to the small fireplace, where a meager blaze struggled to warm the room. "It must be made as warm in here as possible." Regina turned back to the girl. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Katy, ma'am." The girl dipped into a quick curtsy.
"I want a big kettle of water boiling over the fire, the biggest you can find. I want this room filled with steam." She shooed the girl to the door. "Move! We've got work to do!"
As Cedric followed Katy from the room, the girl turned and whispered over her shoulder, "Much as I 'ate that old sawbones, he might be right. The child might not be 'er granddaughter. The little ones all go down there. Me own brother Malcolm almost drowned in that cove."
Cedric patted the girl on the arm. "Nevertheless, we'll do as Lady Winslow asks. I've known her a great many years, and there's only one thing in this world or the next I fear more. She can be a formidable force when she wants something."
He sent the girl on down ahead of him. "She can be a mighty determined woman."
Katy nodded, then informed the owner of the tavern that she needed to go to her mum's.
