“Whilst your brother was absent from home?” she asked with a puzzled expression that was too earnest to be genuine.
Violet forced a smile on her face. “Thankfully, we have a large store of medicines on hand, and I assure you she was not seriously ill, else my brother would’ve arrived home in a trice.”
“Of course. What son would’ve done differently?” asked Mrs. Seymour. “It is simply lucky that Dr. Vaughn was on hand to be of assistance. I heard a few ladies from Bentmoor spreading the strangest suppositions about our dear doctor, but any doubts people may have had before have entirely disappeared. What with him having gained your family’s approval.”
With a few more “pleasantries,” the lady bobbed and took her leave. Violet didn’t care if that sour-faced shrew had come to gloat or sniff out more gossip. It mattered not in the slightest, for the damage was done.
The village believed that even the local physician was relying on Dr. Vaughn?
When she had accepted his assistance, Violet hadn’t anticipated it causing further harm to their already tenuous position, but as she considered it, this past week had seen more and more of their patients flocking to Dr. Vaughn’s care. She’d tried to tell herself that with an illness abroad and Isaac conspicuously absent, it was entirely natural (though people usually approached her for assistance when he was away). But had Dr. Vaughn’s assistance validated the decision to leave the Templetons’ care?
Such a short time since his arrival, and it wasn’t as though people required a physician’s constant care. Especially in the summertime when illnesses were far fewer. Surely, a slight dip in people asking for Isaac held no significance. Yet with Dr. Vaughn relying on her to make his medicines, her schedule was as busy as ever; clearly, the people were calling for a physician.
Glancing about the gathering, Violet ticked the names off as she truly considered each one and whether or not they werepatronizing Isaac or Dr. Vaughn. Having done so many times over the past weeks, it was easy enough to see the shifting tides, as more and more had chosen the latter over the former.
They must do something to stem the tide. Immediately.
Chapter 24
Rubbing her forehead, Violet stepped from the outskirts of the gathering and ventured into the fray once more. Her eyes fell to her brother, who was speaking animatedly with a circle of people on the far side of the room. Hopefully, his being seen publicly would be a boon. Even if he was returning to Stoneford for another sennight.
“Good evening, Mrs. Campbell,” said Violet, grasping onto the first lady who crossed her path. A little goodwill certainly wouldn’t go amiss. “How is little Toliver?”
The lady batted her fan. “He is faring well.”
“Oh, I am glad to hear it,” said Violet with a smile. “What with the sickness that is plaguing so many of us, I have been concerned about his lungs.”
“As are we,” said Mrs. Campbell, whose own expression displayed a measure of warmth, though there was a stiffness to it that had Violet’s muscles tightening.
“I do hope the medicines are helping,” she said.
Mrs. Campbell nodded but sighed. “When he deigns to take it. He battles the nursemaid every time he has to, and I fear she isn’t able to get a full dose in him.”
“That is worrisome,” said Violet with a furrow of her brow. “Most medicines taste irredeemably foul, which can be difficult for children.”
Silence followed that for a beat, and Mrs. Campbell began to study the back of her fan. “I hear tell that Dr. Vaughn is quite good with the little ones.”
Violet’s hands clenched her skirts, and she forced them to loosen, lest she leave behind a mark that everyone would notice for the rest of the evening. In a fit of desperation, she said, “I know Isaac has been considering new ways to administer medicine to children, and I am certain it will be palatable the next time Toliver requires his prescription.”
Mrs. Campbell’s brows rose, a genuine ease entering her expression. “That would be wonderful. Heavens, I would love such a thing for adults if possible. Mr. Campbell may not fight me, but he grumbles every bit as loudly as his son when it is time to take a tonic.”
Giving Violet a nod of dismissal, Mrs. Campbell swept away as reality crashed down once more. Had she truly promised a pleasantandeffective medicine? If Violet were able to deliver such a miracle, she could make a fortune.
Cachets had been invented to address this very issue, but they were almost too large for even an adult to swallow, let alone a child. Adding sugar, honey, or flavored extracts provided some relief, but Violet had added as much as was possible whilst still maintaining the proper concentration. Even if she were to make it in tablet form, it did little to help; no matter how quickly one swallowed, the briefest of touches on the tongue was wretched, and Toliver would have to swallow several to get the same effect.
The medicine must be ingested, but how to make it palatable? Despite having a few ideas of how to improve the taste, any experimentation would cost time and money—neither of which she had an abundance of at present.
Violet stood there, her thoughts far from the party as she considered the problem from new angles. Or rather, draggedforth the same solutions she’d considered and rejected all the other times she’d attempted to resolve the issue. It was lunacy to attempt previous experiments and hope for success when all others had failed. Yet surely, there must be a solution.
Frowning to herself, Violet felt that old and familiar frustration bubble to the surface. So much about healing and medicine felt more lucky than intentional, as though fate did more to pull people from the brink of death than anything she concocted in her office. Though she knew her remedies provided relief and healing, it felt as though better answers lay just beyond her grasp.
“Miss Templeton?”
Jerking herself from her musings, she turned to find Dr. Vaughn standing there. She stared at him for a long moment, uncertain as to why his tone and expression were so expectant.
“The concert is about to begin,” he said, nodding toward the front of the room, where the others were choosing their seats.
“Oh, yes,” she said, taking his proffered hand. Her thoughts were too convoluted for her to care where they sat, so she followed Dr. Vaughn’s lead, giving it no thought when he chose the far back corner.
