Bristol, March
1811
The mornings in March were never
much of a joy for Eric. His nurse seemed to always come down with a horrible
cold as soon as the spring flowers began to pop their pretty yellow heads from
the ground.
The first sound that greeted him in the office that morning
was all the evidence he needed to know that spring had arrived. Scarlet was
sitting behind her desk, blowing her nose vehemently into the thinnest excuse
for a handkerchief he had ever seen.
“Good borning, Dr. Benchley. You habn’t got buch on your patient
list this borning, so if you’d like to take your coffee and wait in your opice
until someone arribes, I can come and get you,” Scarlet said with a stuffy
smile.
“Have you taken anything to help alleviate that head cold,
Miss Scarlet? You know it doesn’t speak highly of a surgeon if his staff is
unable to boast particularly normal health,” Eric mused with warm humor and
compassion.
“I dow, I dow, I’b sorry, sir. I always get this way
wheneber the jonquils begin to bloob. I’b only sneezing and stuffy, though. Baybe
if I just blow by dose well enough I can bask the sybptobs a little better,”
Scarlet suggested wincing.
“Never mind that. I’ll mix you some elixir. Something aromatic
to clear your sinus cavities ought to help a little. You could do with a steam,
too. Why don’t I go and get something started, and you can take a few moments
in the kitchen with the hot water kettle and a bowl and towel. I’m sure anyone
I have to see today won’t mind that my nurse is unavailable. We’ll work through
this.” Eric said with a smile.
He hurried into his office to the rear left of the room and
set his satchel down beside the desk. Walking through the rear doorway he found
his apothecary cabinet still locked tight. He fished the skeleton key from his
pocket and opened the doors to retrieve a few remedy ingredients.
A little honey and camphor with a few leaves of eucalyptus
would help to open the passages in poor Scarlet’s muddled head. He laid a few
soft muslin towels on the table and began heating a kettle full of water on the
stove. He reached above the counter near the water reserve and found one of his
rarely used blood-letting bowls. He set it on the table beside the towels.
Once the water had begun boiling, he removed the kettle from
the heat and poured a small dram into a bottle. Next he added the eucalyptus
leaves and the honey and let them steep. A small dab of camphor went in once
the water had wilted the leaves down.
Then he took a bottle from the counter with a bit of alcohol
spirits and another with simple sugar syrup adding them in equal parts to the
tonic. Corking the bottle, he upended it several times to mix the solution. He
set the bottle beside the bowl and retrieved a large spoon from the silver
drawer.
Scarlet entered just as the spoon was in place.
“Dr. Benchley, dere’s a woban in the opice who says she dows
you. She’s got no appointbent, but since we’re not busy this borning, I thought
you bight have tibe to see her,” Scarlet said, eyeing the bowl with a nervous
glance.
“Take her to the examination room and have her get ready. Then
come back here and let me prescribe your regimen,” he gave her a stern look.
Scarlet fled the scene without a backward glance. He
chuckled at her response to seeing the blooding bowl. She was a silly woman. Working
for him two years did little to convince her that he wasn’t one of the
saw-bones who believed that letting out a person’s blood did anything to
relieve their problems.
In Eric’s experience from school, the removal of vital blood
only made things worse! Scarlet returned a few minutes later and approached the
table with clear terror in her eyes.
“Sit down, Miss Scarlet.” Eric ordered.
The women sat in the chair beside the tonic, but not close
enough to the bowl to suit him. Eric shoved the China dish directly under her
chin in practiced efficiency. Without waiting for her protest,
1811
The mornings in March were never
much of a joy for Eric. His nurse seemed to always come down with a horrible
cold as soon as the spring flowers began to pop their pretty yellow heads from
the ground.
The first sound that greeted him in the office that morning
was all the evidence he needed to know that spring had arrived. Scarlet was
sitting behind her desk, blowing her nose vehemently into the thinnest excuse
for a handkerchief he had ever seen.
“Good borning, Dr. Benchley. You habn’t got buch on your patient
list this borning, so if you’d like to take your coffee and wait in your opice
until someone arribes, I can come and get you,” Scarlet said with a stuffy
smile.
“Have you taken anything to help alleviate that head cold,
Miss Scarlet? You know it doesn’t speak highly of a surgeon if his staff is
unable to boast particularly normal health,” Eric mused with warm humor and
compassion.
“I dow, I dow, I’b sorry, sir. I always get this way
wheneber the jonquils begin to bloob. I’b only sneezing and stuffy, though. Baybe
if I just blow by dose well enough I can bask the sybptobs a little better,”
Scarlet suggested wincing.
“Never mind that. I’ll mix you some elixir. Something aromatic
to clear your sinus cavities ought to help a little. You could do with a steam,
too. Why don’t I go and get something started, and you can take a few moments
in the kitchen with the hot water kettle and a bowl and towel. I’m sure anyone
I have to see today won’t mind that my nurse is unavailable. We’ll work through
this.” Eric said with a smile.
He hurried into his office to the rear left of the room and
set his satchel down beside the desk. Walking through the rear doorway he found
his apothecary cabinet still locked tight. He fished the skeleton key from his
pocket and opened the doors to retrieve a few remedy ingredients.
A little honey and camphor with a few leaves of eucalyptus
would help to open the passages in poor Scarlet’s muddled head. He laid a few
soft muslin towels on the table and began heating a kettle full of water on the
stove. He reached above the counter near the water reserve and found one of his
rarely used blood-letting bowls. He set it on the table beside the towels.
Once the water had begun boiling, he removed the kettle from
the heat and poured a small dram into a bottle. Next he added the eucalyptus
leaves and the honey and let them steep. A small dab of camphor went in once
the water had wilted the leaves down.
Then he took a bottle from the counter with a bit of alcohol
spirits and another with simple sugar syrup adding them in equal parts to the
tonic. Corking the bottle, he upended it several times to mix the solution. He
set the bottle beside the bowl and retrieved a large spoon from the silver
drawer.
Scarlet entered just as the spoon was in place.
“Dr. Benchley, dere’s a woban in the opice who says she dows
you. She’s got no appointbent, but since we’re not busy this borning, I thought
you bight have tibe to see her,” Scarlet said, eyeing the bowl with a nervous
glance.
“Take her to the examination room and have her get ready. Then
come back here and let me prescribe your regimen,” he gave her a stern look.
Scarlet fled the scene without a backward glance. He
chuckled at her response to seeing the blooding bowl. She was a silly woman. Working
for him two years did little to convince her that he wasn’t one of the
saw-bones who believed that letting out a person’s blood did anything to
relieve their problems.
In Eric’s experience from school, the removal of vital blood
only made things worse! Scarlet returned a few minutes later and approached the
table with clear terror in her eyes.
“Sit down, Miss Scarlet.” Eric ordered.
The women sat in the chair beside the tonic, but not close
enough to the bowl to suit him. Eric shoved the China dish directly under her
chin in practiced efficiency. Without waiting for her protest,
Similar Books
