Page 15 of The Scent of Intuition
“So… the viscount came for his digitalis this morning. Seems he didn’t like the taste of it after I’d made it completely palatable, so I gave him the dilution,” Alfie started, recounting the Latin name for the earlier dose of foxglove he’d sold.
“But that’s the smallest dose, isn’t it?” Wendy said. “I thought he told me it was the highest in his parcel as he left today.”
“Did he now? I must have gotten the order wrong then.” Alfie winked at Wendy and shrugged. He stuffed a piece of lamb in his mouth and tore the crust of the bread to soak up the gravy. Until he’d had a taste of Felix’s delicious cooking, he hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been for actual food, not just Bea.
“You cannot manipulate your patients like that!” Felix said, but it didn’t sound like he meant it.
“I needed him to take the smallest dose, and he was intent on taking the largest, which would kill him.”
“Tobacco is ruining his teeth, too. Had to turn him down this afternoon,” Felix said, poking at his uneaten food.
“You turned the viscount down?” Andre raised his voice. “But he’s a goldmine!”
“You mean he needs the medical care, and you couldn’t provide it?” Nick cocked his head as if to remind Andre why they were running this practice.
“Yes, I mean that it’s obvious how many gold fillings, inlays, and crowns he needs, and that he will pay for this work.” Andre raised his brow at Felix. “Turning him down this week could mean we cannot pay rent this month. Have you thought about that?”
Felix dropped his fork. “I have, yes. I don’t have enough gold to treat him tomorrow. Why do you think I already spoke to the Klonimuses twice? And the Pearlers?” They were families of jewelers, close friends of Felix, and his suppliers of gold pellets to melt into crowns, gold foil for fillings, and did everything from sharpening his instruments to providing new ones. In many ways, Felix’s work resembled that of the Crown Jewelers, even though the crowns he forged were on display inside the mouths of the Ton rather than adorning their heads, necks, or fingers.
“Is this about the gold shortage?” Wendy asked.
“You’ve heard?” Felix asked.
“Yes, overheard.”
Ah, yes, Wendy always needs to know everything,Alfie thought. Whenever she was curious, she’d burst in with a stack of freshly pressed towels and offer her help—typically the meddling kind.
“This is a serious problem, Felix. Can I help with anything?” Nick put his fork down, and the room grew silent. Nick was right.Instead of bickering with each other, they should be finding a solution.
“I don’t know. There seems to be a breakpoint in the gold supply chain. If we don’t figure out where the gold goes—because it’s not going where it should—I won’t be able to do more than administer clove oil and henbane and turn my patients away.”
Alfie leaned back, his supper forgotten. The fallout could severely impact their business.
Although it was usually his pleasure to supply Felix with clove oil and henbane to mellow the patients’ toothaches or pain during treatment, he was well aware that nothing he could offer was, in fact, the treatment for the dentist’s patients. The doctors at 87 Harley Street, including Alfie, were symbiotic. He made their work more accessible, the treatment outcomes more predictable, and healing faster with his medicines. Conversely, the patients were his customers, some longstanding if they had chronic conditions. If any of the doctors were missing supplies, Alfie had to help.
Moreover, Felix was the best dentist in London and most devoted to his patients. Taking the material he needed to treat his patients was like taking water from a fish. And if Felix’s supplies ran dry, the doctors could soon suffer a dry spell. The risk was too grave.
“I’ll help you to get to the bottom of this,” Alfie declared.
“How?” Felix didn’t hide the hopefulness in his wary eyes well.
“I will find a way.”
Chapter Seven
Brunswick House, the home of Countess Langley…
Violet and Beatook a stroll in the garden and later on withdrew into the drawing room for a leisurely afternoon that stretched into the evening hours.
Bea was reeling from having met the new prince. It was nearly impossible to lay sight on an unmarried royal before the matrons of the Ton swept over him like vultures, yet Violet had tucked him away just for her.
Just minutes ago, they’d walked past Henry’s study and saw the two men standing over his desk and trailing lines on a map of the continent. They were discussing gold shipments and country lines in Transylvania. Bea was fascinated and wished she could stay and listen, but decorum meant she needed to mind her business. Ladies weren’t supposed to show interest in such things. She followed Violet to the drawing room, determined to find out more from her friend.
“However did you keep him here?” Bea asked once the footman had shut the door, and she was alone with Violet. “And what’s the talk of gold and shipments and Transylvania?”
“Oh, so you overheard.” Violet widened her eyes with excitement and lowered her voice. “He’s engaged in a diplomatic mission with Henry. Isn’t it marvelous?” She gripped Bea’s wrist and squeezed excitedly. “There’s a terribly secret and exciting mission he’s involved with.” Violet leaned closer to Bea as if the walls were spies. “It has to do with gold shipments overthe Mediterranean. Thieves, pirates, and lost carriages. Henry has been up all night, studying maps with Stan.” Violet spoke familiarly of her husband as if he were anything but the tall and imposing Earl of Langley, but Bea was as intimidated by him as she’d been before Violet married him.
Her friend sat back and folded her hands as if ready for the next act in a play. “So, about you. A prince! And a charming one, too!” Violet cast her a woman-to-woman look.
