As the Sparks Fly Upward (22 page)

“His brother, Adam, is going to marry a woman named Lady Heather Benton.”

“Oh, my! That's too bad!”

“Why is he so upset about it?”

“Well, I shouldn't be telling you this, but maybe you need to know, Twyla. We were called in to treat Lady Benton's brother, and after he grew better, I left but Colin stayed for quite a long spell with her family. When he returned, it was as if he'd been shot in the heart. Colin had been totally bewitched by that awful woman! I thought he had gotten over her rejection, but perhaps a man never forgets his first love.”

Twyla said quietly, “I know. Colin told me what happened. He's still in love with that woman, and now she's marrying his brother! I wish I could help him.”

“No one can,” Teague said bitterly. “Men can be fools where women are concerned!”

15

April 3, 1585

P
hineas Teague straightened up to ease his aching back, looked across the cadaver that lay on the table in front of him, and studied Colin's face. Teague was not a man of much emotion, at least that he allowed others to see, but he had grown attached to his young friend. As he studied his former pupil, Phineas felt a sudden gladness.
Well, in my old age, I don't have a son of my blood, but at least I have this young fellow!
The thought pleased him, and he wondered for a moment if there was any way that he could put these emotions into words. But a lifelong habit of keeping his feelings to himself was too strong, so instead of speaking of his affection, he said briskly, “Well, we did all we could to save this poor fellow, didn't we, Colin?”

“I suppose so, but I was hoping he would make it,” Colin said quietly.

They leaned over the corpse and stared at a small piece of tissue, an organ that Colin had lifted with his scalpel. “I still don't know what this thing is,” Colin muttered. “I don't know what it is for, but it's in everyone. It must have
some
function. I've looked in every book I can think of all the way back to Hippocrates, but none of them even mention this.”

“Small wonder,” Phineas said dryly, then he reached out and touched the small organ. “Most of the old masters never even opened a dead body. You know, Colin, I keep thinking this tiny organ here had something to do with his death.”

“He did complain of a terrible pain in his stomach. Somehow, even though I can't prove it, I
know
this thing killed him.”

The two men studied the small bit of flesh, and finally Colin said, “Phineas, we need to do autopsies on other people who've had the same symptoms as this man.”

“That would be risky, as you well know. Most of the members of the College of Physicians hate us already. They aren't about to give us any information, nor will they let us see the bodies of their patients that have died.”

Colin had a quick thought. “Do you remember any of your patients who had the same symptoms as this man and then died?”

“I've been thinking about that.” Phineas stroked his chin thoughtfully, then nodded. “I can remember a few with like symptoms, but I didn't do autopsies on them, so there is no way of telling what the cause of death was.”

Colin shrugged his shoulders. “We doctors don't know as much as we should, do we?”

“Well, we know more than we did. Look at all those silly teachings of Galen. Speaking of books, how is that book of yours coming?”

“The text is fine, but it will be worthless without illustrations. The trouble is I'm no artist. None of my drawings looks authentic.”

“So, hire an artist then.”

Colin laughed, saying, “I doubt I could find one that would be willing to draw pictures of the insides of bodies. Most want to paint flowers, or pretty faces.”

“You'll find someone. Don't give up, my boy.”

Colin leaned over the table, holding the quill firmly in his hand. He was making a sketch of one of the bones in the human arm and having a hard time of it. His brow was furrowed, and he shook his head, muttering, “I'll never be able to do it!” Suddenly he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sticking the quill in the ink pot, he rose and walked to the door. When he opened it he saw a young man he recognized as James Laurence, a blacksmith from the village. “Come in, James.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Twyla entered the room and James greeted her warmly, “Good afternoon, Miss Hayden.”

“Good afternoon to you, James.”

Colin wanted to get back to his attempts at drawing, so he said rather shortly, “James, do you have a medical problem?”

“Why, no, sir. I don't.”

Twyla said quickly, “Come with me into the kitchen, James, and sit down. I want you to try this spiced ale I just made. It's got ginger and cinnamon and just a little bit of honey.”

“Thank you, Miss Hayden. It sounds delicious.”

“Would you have some, Dr. Winslow?”

“No, I don't have time for that.”

Impatiently, Colin waited until the pair went into the kitchen. He walked back to his desk and began to draw, but Twyla's and James's voices distracted him. They were talking of music, fairs, and other events that were taking place.

Finally, after an interminable time—or so it seemed to Colin—he heard the door open, then close. He got to his feet and turned to Twyla, saying sarcastically, “He's gone, then?”

“Yes, he's gone.”

“I thought he would never leave!”

“Well, he didn't come to see
you
.”

“Why did he come, then?”

“He came to see me.”

Colin stared at her in shock. “Why would he do that?”

Twyla's cheeks colored slightly. “You think that it's impossible for a young man to come just to see me?”

Colin was already angry with himself for his failure to do the drawings for his book, and without meaning to he snapped, “Well, he can't call on you!”

“And why not, Mister?”

Colin tried to think of a reason that would not sound absurd, and finally blurted out, “You're too young. That's why.”

“James doesn't seem to think so.”

“Well, I don't like this whole thing.”

Twyla turned to face Colin squarely. She had a tremendous capacity for strong emotions, and now she felt anger from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. Her lips came together in a tight line. “I know what it is. It's because you own me, isn't it?”

“I never think of myself as owning you, as I have told you many times! But anyway, I don't know this James well, and he might not have good intentions.” Then he blurted out, “Young men are dangerous.”

Suddenly, a wry smile came to Twyla's lip. “Are you dangerous to women, Mister?”

“Of course not!”

“No? What about Heather Benton?” She knew as soon as the words left her lips that she had made a mistake.

Colin stared at Twyla, unable to answer. Finally, he said stiffly, “I don't own you. Let the young man call on you if he wants.” He abruptly left the room, and Twyla could not remember his being as upset since she had come to live with Colin and Dr. Teague. “I shouldn't have mentioned that woman,” she whispered to herself. “He feels bad enough, and I made it worse.”

For a week, the tension between Twyla and Colin was almost a physical thing. Twyla tried desperately to undo her words, for
she knew she had been wrong to utter them. A week passed, and as she got ready to go to market, she decided to get Colin to go with her. She walked through the house and found him staring at the book in front of him. “Mister, would you please go with me to the market? I have to buy quite a few things and it would be too much for me to carry.”

Colin had a stubborn look on his face. He opened his mouth to refuse but instead got to his feet. “All right.” He was tired of the barrier of tension between him and Twyla. He saw no signs of anger in Twyla; he realized the anger was only in him.

The two left the house, and Twyla did her best to cheer Colin up. She had always been able to do that. She was surprised when Colin mentioned Adam.

“Did I tell you that Adam is coming by to see us?”

“No, you didn't.”

“He's been at home, but he's going to visit us before he goes back to his ship. I expect him sometime this week.”

Twyla said no more on the subject. She knew that Colin was unhappy about his brother's upcoming wedding, although he had never said anything about it to her.

They passed by a pub, and as they did, two soldiers came out. One of them was a large man who said, “Well, this is a pretty one, isn't she, Sid?” The soldier put his hand in the small of Twyla's back.

“Better watch out, Barrett. She's got a man with her. He may take you to task,” the soldier named Sid jeered.

Barrett sized up Colin and laughed, saying, “I don't reckon this pretty boy will hurt me. Will you, fellow?”

“Take your hands off of this young woman!” Colin said aggressively.

Barrett had blunt features and bulging muscles, and he wore a sword at his side, as all soldiers did. He wrapped his arm around Twyla's waist and said with a laugh, “You run
along, sonny. This young lady's going to keep me company.”

Colin stepped forward and tried to remove the man's arm from Twyla's waist. Sid simply pushed him back and grinned broadly, saying, “You better watch out, Barrett. He's getting mad. He'll probably cut you in two.”

Barrett chuckled. “He don't even have a sword. What are you, some kind of clerk or something?'

“He's a doctor!” Twyla cried. “Now turn me loose!”

“A doctor, is he? Well, if I ever get sick, I'll know where to come.” He grinned at Twyla and hugged her tighter. “You and me, we have things to do.”

Colin stepped forward and struck at the soldier. He hit him in the face, but his blow didn't even move the man.

Barrett turned with surprise, and Sid laughed. “Don't let him insult you like that, Barrett. Meet him with any weapons he chooses.”

Barrett's face was red. “I don't like being hit, Mr. Physician. You have to prove you're a man now. I've been in a duel or two. You can choose your weapon: sword or pistol?”

Twyla jerked away from the man and took hold of Colin's arm, trying to pull him away. “They're drunk, Colin. Don't listen to them.”

“If you're any kind of a man you'll meet me next Friday,” the large soldier said abruptly with a slight smile on his face. “Meet me at dusk in the cemetery. What'll it be, swords or pistols?”

“Swords!” Colin said. He wasn't sure why he said that—he'd had little enough experience with one.

Barrett laughed loudly. “Remember, next Friday at dusk in the cemetery. If you're not there, I'll find you and take a horsewhip to you right down the middle of this village.” With a cruel smile he looked at Twyla and said, “Then I'll find something for me and this young lady to do together.”

“I'll be there,” Colin said firmly.

Twyla pulled at his arm, and when they were out of hearing distance she said, “You just ignore him, Mister. He is only a drunken soldier.”

“I can't do that.”

Twyla was shocked. “You can't fight him!”

“I have to.”

Twyla argued with him all the way home. Stubbornly, Colin said, “I'll fight him, and that's all there is to it!”

As soon as they were in the house, Twyla told Dr. Teague what had happened. Teague said instantly, “Don't be a fool, Colin! Fighting is his profession. You're no good with a sword.”

“I probably am a fool, but I'm going to do it.” He turned and walked away.

Twyla turned to Teague, pleading, “You have to stop him, Doctor! You must, or he'll get himself killed.”

“I'll do the best I can, but I've noticed that as easygoing as Colin is, there's a stubborn streak in him. I don't see it often, but I see it now.”

“We have to think of
something
,” Twyla said. “I couldn't stand it if something happened to him!”