Page 25 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
Anger flared within her. “My husbandwillwake up, Mr. Montgomery. I must believe that, and so must you, and everyone in Birkenhead Lodge.” She drew a deep breath. “James needs our prayers at the moment, and our absolute conviction that he shall recover from this.”
He bowed coldly. “I am sorry that I have upset you, Adaline. It was not my intention at all.” He paused. “I am of course praying for my dear friend to make a full recovery, as are we all.”
She stared at him. He truly was the oddest person she had ever encountered. He was so animated when he had been trying to seduce her behind his friend’s back, and yet was curiously cold about the fact that James was lying in the room beyond, grievously injured, his life hanging in the balance.
She took a deep breath, her anger suddenly draining away. She should be grateful, at least, that he wasn’t harassing her like he had been; her husband’s precarious state had obviously shamed him into stopping it. Perhaps this was just his way; maybe he did not know how to express his fear and horror at what had occurred. She barely knew the man, after all.
She glanced beyond him, to the room. She must see Dr. Brown before he left for the day.
“If you will excuse me,” she said, smiling tightly. “I must go to my husband.”
He bowed again. Without another word she kept going down the hallway, pausing to knock at the sick room door.
She glanced back. Reuben was still standing there, watching her intently.
***
Isabel was in the room as well when she entered, standing at the foot of the bed, watching Dr. Brown tending James. There was a strange, distracted expression on her face, as if she were in some kind of a waking dream. Her colour was still high; two round dots on her cheeks, as if she had hastily applied rouge.
Dr. Brown stood up, turning to receive her. Adaline studied him for a moment.
He was a tall man, with broad shoulders, and dark blonde hair, which he often pushed behind his ears in a distracted way. Still a young man, she thought that he could not be more than five and twenty. Very young to have his own established practice, but she knew that he was well respected in the district.
He was also a kind, charitable man, offering charity to the poor in the form of free medical care. She didn’t know many physicians who would do such a thing. Most worked for a high fee and would not even bother to go to a call out if there was not the lure of a fat sum at the end for their trouble. But Dr. Brown was different.
“Mrs. Townshend,” he said.
“Dr. Brown.” She nodded her head, turning to Isabel. “My dear, would you excuse us? I would like to talk to Dr. Brown alone.”
Isabel looked a little peeved but she complied, leaving the room with one last glance behind her.
Adaline shrugged her shoulders slightly, a bit mystified by the strange way that Isabel was behaving, but she soon forgot all about the younger woman when she saw the grim look on the doctor’s face.
“What is it?” she asked, fearfully. “Has his condition deteriorated?”
Dr. Brown shook his head. “No, he is the same as when I saw him yesterday,” he said slowly. “And there is some good news. The break in his left leg is healing well, and his right leg is responsive now. The wound is under control. I do not think there will be any permanent paralysis…”
Her heart leapt momentarily. “But that is wonderful!”
He smiled. “Yes, of course, it is good news, as I said.” He hesitated. “But I am beginning to worry about the fact he has not regained consciousness at all. This is the third day since the accident…”
She gazed at him steadily. “The ship’s physician told me that there were no hard and fast rules with it,” she said slowly. “That there was no telling when people would awaken.”
“That is true,” said Dr. Brown slowly. “But the longer that a patient remains in such a state, the chances lower that they will ever awaken.” He hesitated. “And then there is the chance that if they do, there will be a permanent change in their mental state.”
“Like what?” Her voice was a whisper.
He took a deep breath. “Mr. Townshend might be…not himself, if he awakens.” He paused. “He might lose cognitive function, be not as bright as he once was. I have tended patients who have suffered in such a way, who awaken but can no longer talk, or do anything. They become permanently incapacitated, unable to care for themselves any longer.”
Adaline staggered forward a little, as if from a heavy blow. It had never occurred to her that this might happen. And yet, shehadheard of such things before. She had even known a man, once, who had suffered from just such an affliction.
It had been back in Coventry. The man was an acquaintance of her father’s. He had slipped, on icy street cobblestones, hitting his head quite hard. He had been asleep for days, and when he had awoken, he had babbled and drooled like a baby. It was as if he had lost the power of speech entirely.
His poor wife had to take care of him, hiring a nurse to tend him day and night, which she could barely afford. And the worst of it was the man had never improved. Her father had always talked sadly of the fate of poor Mr. Hughes, but also felt very sorry for Mrs. Hughes, as well, who was left to pick up the pieces.
She gazed back at the prone figure of James, stretched out on the bed. His colour had improved slightly, but he was still very pale. And his eyes did not flutter at all. It was as if he was in a permanent state of dreaming, but who knew if he could think at all anymore?
He was such a vibrant, strong man. A physical man, who enjoyed his long walks. He was also an intellectual man, constantly reading books. The Liverpool newspapers were delivered every week, a bit behind, but he didn’t mind, because he could catch up on what was happening in his old hometown.
