Page 24 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
Chapter 9
The more Archie thought about Gwendolene’s death, the more convinced he was as to something suspicious having occurred. It was simply not natural for a young woman in her prime to succumb to a fever like that. He felt certain someone knew more than they were letting on, and the next day, to distract himself from his thoughts, and to feel as though he was doing something, he decided to pay a visit to the village doctor.
“Where are you going?” his mother asked, as he readied himself to leave the house.
It was just after breakfast, but Archie had taken his usual walk to the churchyard, rather than joining the others in the dining room. He had felt disappointed at not having the chance to dance with Lavinia, even as he knew there was no reason for him to do so.
It was an idle thought, one he had tried to dismiss, but he had surprised himself at the sudden strength of his attraction towards Lavinia and having caught a brief glance of her that morning, he had been reminded again of just how pretty she was.
“To see Doctor Airdale,” Archie replied, and his mother raised her eyebrows.
“That old fool,” she said, shaking her head.
Doctor Airdalewasold, and there were some in the village who would readily have agreed with the dowager’s words. She had dismissed the doctor from caring for Gwendolene, owing to his failing eyesight and lack of proper—in her opinion—diagnosis. It was then the specialist from London had been sent for, and Doctor Airdale’s services were no longer required.
But Archie had been reluctant at the dismissal, noting the methodical manner in which the doctor went about his observations, noting everything down in his pocketbook. It had occurred to Archie to seek his opinion on the reason for his sister’s death, hoping to shed some further light on his suspicions.
“I just want to know his thoughts on the matter. I know it’s been six months, but… all those notes he took,” Archie said, and his mother tutted.
“He’s blind as a bat. He probably can’t read them. I’ve got no time for the man. If I fall ill, don’t send for him,” she said, shaking her head as Archie smiled.
There was no point in arguing, and now he left the house, walking the three miles through the woods to the village. Sarum was more a hamlet than a village; a small collection of houses, centered around an inn, namedThe Baron’s Head.DoctorAirdale lived in a house next door to the inn, and when Archie knocked, he opened the door, squinting out into the sunshine.
“Is that you, Bertrand?” he asked.
“It’s the Baron Sarum—it’s Archie, Doctor Airdale,” Archie said, and the doctor looked surprised.
“My Lord?” he said.
“That’s right. I would like to speak with you,” he said, and the doctor nodded, beckoning him inside.
Doctor Airdale’s house was, as one might imagine for a man almost blind, a chaotic place, filled with piles of books and papers. It was dirty, too, with the remnants of a meal laid out on the parlor table, and dirty dishes stacked up on the side waiting to be washed.
The doctors’ faithful spaniel, Rupert, was lying next to a smoldering fire, and Archie told himself he would do something to help the doctor, perhaps by sending one of the maids to clean the house for him.
“What can I do for you, My Lord?” the doctor asked.
“I want to know how Gwendolene died,” Archie said, and the doctor raised his eyebrows.
“Well… your mother dismissed me, My Lord. I don’t know the conclusion of the London physicians,” Doctor Airdale said, and Archie nodded.
“Yes, but… what was your opinion, doctor?” Archie asked.
Doctor Airdale paused for a moment. He looked old—older than he had done the last time Archie had set eyes on him. He was hunched over, his hair gray, his eyes squinting, but his voice remained keen, his intellect undimmed, and now he nodded, pointing to a pile of notebooks in the corner of the room.
“Every patient I’ve ever treated—their notes are there. I’ve been Sarum’s physician for fifty years. Take the top notebook. You’ll find my observations on your sister there. But they’re only observations. I can’t say for certain what happened to her, nor do I wish to speculate unduly. But in my opinion, there was something… not quite right about the business. That’s all I can say, My Lord,” he said.
Archie rose to his feet, crossing to the pile of notebooks and taking the top one. Opening it, he found the doctor’s handwriting to be small and neat, every case detailed methodically with copious notes.
“May I take this?” he asked, and Doctor Airdale nodded.
“What use is it to me anymore. I fear my time is short, and my usefulness shorter,” he said.
Archie shook his head.
“I won’t hear of it, Doctor Airdale. I’m going to send one of the maids from Sarum Lacy House to set things right for you here—to clean and cook for you. I appreciated your diligence in caring for my sister, even if my mother didn’t. Good day to you, Doctor Airdale,” he said, and nodding to the doctor, Archie left the house, tucking the notebook into his pocket.
He was intrigued to read it, but waited until he was out of the village and back in the woodland surrounding Sarum Lacy House before sitting down and opening it. The cases concerned attacks of gout, upset stomachs, broken bones, but at the back—the final entry—were the doctor’s notes concerning his sister. Archie was intrigued.
