Into the red zone.
So high an intensity for the very first treatment? Graham cocked his head, about to comment on it, when Peckwood whirled about and faced the Balfours.
“And now I am ready to begin, Miss Balfour, Mr. Balfour.” Peckwood nodded at each in turn. A bead of sweat escaped and slid into his collar as he reached for the switch.
Alarm prickled down Graham’s spine like a pin-blister rash. Was all the doctor’s confident and boisterous talk of his cure just that… talk? But no. Surely he knew what he was doing. The man had far more experience and connections than Graham could ever hope to obtain.
A high-pitched humming ensued, followed by a throbbing bass drone. Something sizzled. The air crackled.
And Mr. Balfour convulsed into a series of jerky contortions.
EIGHT
“The surgeon gave him a composing draught and ordered us to leave him undisturbed.”
“Stop! Stop it at once!”
Amelia shot to her feet, then immediately reached for the sofa arm as blinding pain ripped up from her injured toes all the way to her throat. A deep cry tore past her lips, blending with Mr. Lambert’s shout.
“Turn it off, Doctor!” Mr. Lambert lunged towards her brother, whose eyes rolled to the back of his head.
Amelia’s blood ran cold at the sight.
Mr. Peckwood flung out his arm, barring Colin from receiving any help whatsoever. “Leave him! This is all part of the process.”
Process?No! This was utter madness. Could the man not see how her brother writhed and foamed?
She hobbled to Mr. Lambert and grabbed his sleeve, not caring if her fingernails punctured his skin. “Mr. Lambert, make it stop. Please!”
Without hesitation, he wheeled about and struck the switch.
“What the devil are you doing?” Mr. Peckwood flung the rebuke on a wave of spittle.
Amelia paid them no mind whatsoever. All that mattered now was her broken younger brother, who’d already borne a lifetime of pain.
“Colin?” She dropped to her knees at his side.
His mouth stretched into a razor-sharp grimace. A great shudder shook his big frame, and his chest rose and fell with a gasp for air. Then finally, blessedly, serenity draped over him, and his grip on the chair arms loosened. His head drooped her way, and it took him several tries to lift his eyes to her face.
“I am fine, Sister,” he rasped.
“You most assuredly are not!” She yanked out her handkerchief, then inhaling deeply, gently dabbed the sweat from his brow and moisture that had seeped out at the corners of his mouth. What had ever possessed her father to place his trust in such an incompetent doctor?
She glowered up at Mr. Peckwood. “I hold you personally accountable for my brother’s torment, sir. Yours is an inhumane and barbaric practice.”
His blue gaze swiveled her way, eyes as cold and dark as the North Sea. “What is barbarous, Miss Balfour, are your objections and Mr. Lambert’s insubordination. This inhumane practice, as you call it, is the only way to ensure your brother’s survival on the operating table and ultimately the success of the procedure. As I feared, today’s session has clearly been too much for your feminine mind to manage. I invited you to join us only because of your insistence, but if you continue to behave in such an obtuse fashion, I shall be forced to ban you from all future treatments.”
Stunned, she blinked. Surely the man didn’t seriously think he could evict her from her own home. Fisting her hands, she opened her mouth to tell him where he could take himself and his torture devices, but Mr. Lambert’s voice rang out first.
“Miss Balfour has every right to be at her brother’s side, sir. Mr. Balfour is her own flesh and blood. It is only just and fair that family be together.”
Mr. Peckwood frowned. “I grant you grace in this instance, Mr. Lambert, being you’ve only ever worked with hardy sailors and naval officers, but trust me when I say the fairer sex holds weaknesses you have yet to experience. I will not willingly take part in provoking hysteria in Miss Balfour nor suffer to see her committed to St. Peter’s.”
A deep flush spread up Mr. Lambert’s neck like a bruise. “I would never endanger Miss Balfour in such a fashion, but allow me to say”—he lifted his chin and stared the man down—“I think you discredit her stamina and owe her an apology.”
Mr. Lambert’s defense, while kind and well meaning, didn’t do much to assuage the irritation pounding with each beat of her heart. Must men always speak as if she were not in the same room?
“I require no apology.” Grasping the chair arm that Colin no longer used, she pushed herself to her feet and leaned heavily on her good leg. “Rather, I wish you to leave, Mr. Peckwood. Take this contraption back to your office”—she flicked her fingers at the hated machinery—“and instead prepare for my brother’s surgery.”
