Page 34 of Harpy of the Ton
“Come now, young lady,” Mrs. Wart-Nose said in an overly singsong voice. “Why don’t we take a little broth? It’s beef.”
Beef—thatwas the word.
“We might feel better if we drink it this time, rather than let it go cold.”
We?
Why did she say “we” in such a condescending tone, as if speaking to a witless child?
Perhaps I am witless.
Words that should come easy failed to materialize in her mind, leaving her dumbstruck and unable to ask their questions.
“Don’t we like beef broth?” Mrs. Wart-Nose continued. “We can’t afford to be overly choosy when our health is at stake.”
Perhaps I don’t like beef.
What did beef taste like?
She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, scrabbling at the thin ribbon that led to the precious piece of her past. But, like a coin dropped into a well, it sank, giving a final flicker as it reflected the sunlight before disappearing into the darkness.
Mrs. Wart-Nose smiled, revealing yellowing teeth.
“Have we remembered our name yet?”
“Of course I remember. It’s…”
Her name hung in the air—a soft blur. She willed it to snap into focus, but the harder she strained, the blurrier it became.
“Never mind, child.” The woman patted her arm.
“Don’t touch me, you hag!” She balled her hand into a fist.
“That’s quite enough ofthat, young lady. I’ll not tolerate such behavior.”
The door opened, and a man stood in the doorway. The doctor—yes, that was it. And his name was…
It was on her lips, if only she could recall it.
He approached the bed, and she winced at the sight of him—the bruise below his eye and a line of scratches on his cheek.
“It’s time for our medicine.” He held up a phial.
Nowhewas patronizing her.
“It’smymedicine, notours,” she said.
“Very well—it’s time foryourmedicine.”
“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child!” she snarled. “Leave me alone—you shouldn’t be in my chamber.”
“I’m a doctor,” he said. “Like it or not, you’re my patient.”
“And we’ll speak to you in any manner we see fit,” Mrs. Wart-Nose said, “seeing as we took you in, and little thanks we’re getting for it. Look what you’ve done to my Gerald when he’s been nothing but kind toward you!”
“Wh-what I’ve done?”
The man touched his cheek. “Charlotte, my dear—we must make allowances. The young woman’s been through an ordeal. I’m sure she meant no harm. We all strike out when we’re frightened.” He smiled and resumed his attention on her. “Have you remembered your name yet? Or where you’re from?”
