Page 19 of A Zephyr Rising
Mrs.Martin gripped Ginger’s hand so tightly it hurt.“But…my boy.My poor boy.We rely on his help.And he’s such a fast runner.Lives for it.He would climb and skip all day if he could.Please.Please help him.Don’t cut off his leg.”
Her father watched Mrs.Martin with a thoughtful expression.Displays of emotion made him uncomfortable, but he had a good heart.Perhaps, if there was hope, Ginger could convince him to step in on the boy’s behalf.“Do you know someone who could do the surgery?”Ginger asked Dr.Morgan.
“Not here.”Dr.Morgan scratched the top of his head.“Not anywhere near here, either.I have a friend in London but?—”
“We’ll take him to London, then.If that’s all right with you, Papa?I’m certain Mrs.Martin and I could take him.”Ginger drew herself to her full height.She’d never live with herself if she didn’t do everything in her power to save Charlie’s leg.
“The trip for him will be excruciating.Not to mention he could die.”Dr.Morgan held out a hand as though to put an end to her pleas.“And I can’t guarantee they’ll save his leg.”He gave Mrs.Martin a severe look.“There’s nothing wrong with being a cripple.Better a cripple than dead.Be reasonable for God’s sake.”
Ginger bristled at his condescension.“But the options aren’t just dead or crippled, are they, Dr.Morgan?The right surgeon might save the leg.”
“Yes, but—those are not the options for children like Charlie Martin,” Dr.Morgan said, his face a mask of indifference.
Options for the rich.Insufferable man.Wasn’t he supposed to do everything in his power to help and to heal?
“And if my family will help with the transport and cost?”Ginger avoided her parents’ gazes.She should defer to them, as it was their motorcar and money she was offering, but she didn’t want to look weak in front of Dr.Morgan.
Mrs.Martin appeared anguished by the situation.She appealed to Ginger’s mother, who had been silent by the doorway.“What would you do, my lady?”
Her mother paled.She gave Mrs.Martin a kind smile.“I understand wanting to give one’s child the best of options.Edmund, what do you think?Can we help take poor Charlie to London?”
Her father rubbed his jaw slowly.“If that’s the desire of the mother, I’m happy to help.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, my lord.My whole family owes you so much.”Mrs.Martin drew a shattered breath as she reached for Charlie’s limp hand.
“This is ludicrous.Injuries of this nature result in amputation regularly.”Dr.Morgan set his hands on his hips.“If you go, I wash my hands entirely of this.It makes no difference to me.I have enough patients to tend to for the evening, but I won’t have others saying I put you up to this madness.I have my?—”
Her father cut him off with a severe frown.“What’s the name of the fellow in London, Morgan?”
“Dr.James Clark.At St.Thomas’ Hospital.We trained together,” Dr.Morgan said with a resigned look.He appeared to realize he had crossed too far of a line by challenging the Earl of Braddock.“I suppose I can put the boy’s leg in a splint to keep his movement minimal while you move him.But you’ll have to go tonight.Immediately.”
Thank God.
Ginger had never felt such hopefulness and apprehension all at once.
Now she needed to convince her father to let her go with Charlie and Mrs.Martin to London.She’d made this catastrophe.She was determined to fix it.
“Why don’t we speak of the arrangements in the hall while Dr.Morgan takes care of the splint?Mrs.Martin, you’ll be all right, won’t you?”her mother said.
With the way Dr.Morgan was behaving, Ginger worried more about leaving the beleaguered woman with him than anything else.
Mrs.Martin nodded mutely and they left her in the examination room.
A jittery feeling ran up Ginger’s arms and she tried to keep her limp to a minimum.One step at a time.She breathed, clenching her jaw as she walked.What on earth had she done to her ankle?
They’d just made their way to the vestibule when Henry came through the front door.A bare bulb illuminated the space, but it made his face look even more haggard, especially because of his bruised face.He’d untied his bowtie and it hung around his neck.Closing the door, he sighed.“What does the doctor have to say?”
“He wants to amputate the boy’s leg.Your sister has argued on behalf of the mother to send the boy to a surgeon in London who may repair the bone.”Her father clasped his hands behind his back.“I’ve given my consent.Would you care to escort the boy to London?”
“I’d like to go,” Ginger said, her tone flat.She didn’t want there to be any argument.
Her father shifted, his brow furrowing.“To London?”
“You can’t possibly go to London at this hour,” her mother said.She set a steady hand on Ginger’s forearm.
Henry winced, walking his fingertips over his swollen lip.An ugly purple bruise covered his cheek.“Mama is right, Ginny.Things are uncertain enough right now.It’s best for you to be home.Not to mention the fact that I’ve accused the men involved with the police.”
Ginger shook her head.“I’m certain it would be a comfort to Mrs.Martin for me to go with her to London.”
