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Authors: Sara Donati

Lake in the Clouds (16 page)

BOOK: Lake in the Clouds
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It was a neat square brick structure that served both as a kiln and a boiler, with holes for the placement of alembics and the other vessels, all but one covered now. Behind a small metal door with sliding vents was the special compartment that reached the high temperatures needed for sintering, with its own stack to guide the combustion gasses outside. To one side a round glass receiver sat like a small world on its own specially built table, and on the other side a woolen rug hung over a roller in a filled water butt. Richard Todd was not moved by stink, but neither was he so foolish as to tempt fire.

When Hannah came in he was hunched over the big leather-bound logbook where he recorded all of his experiments. To her greeting he only shrugged a shoulder.

“You’re late.”

The very first lesson Hannah learned in his laboratory was that it made no difference how she responded; to talk at all was to invite a lecture.

Instead she greeted Gabriel Oak who had taken his usual place on the patient’s chair. She handed her cloak to Bump and took from him her leather work apron.

“Friend Hannah.” Gabriel tried to rise, but at Bump’s glowering stare he sat again and contented himself with a smile. At close range his complexion had the consistency of wax, all the stranger given the startling blue of his eyes and the intelligence there. “Did you leave your family in good health?”

Gabriel Oak could not be coaxed to talk about himself, but he seemed genuinely interested in the well-being of the villagers. Before Hannah left, he and Bump would have asked for news of the twins and listened with great attentiveness to any story Hannah could think to tell.

“I did, thank you.”

“If you’re done distracting the patient,” said Dr. Todd, pushing himself out of his chair, “we’ve got work to do here.”

Gabriel Oak’s morning ended in an exhausted sleep on the cot in the far corner, but not before he took both of Hannah’s hands in his own and thanked her in a whisper.

“If you are breathing easier that is thanks enough,” she said, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. “Now you should sleep.”

But he was stubborn, this old man, and he squeezed her hands as tight as he was able. “Will you greet your father and Friend Elizabeth and the others on the mountain for me? And give the little ones this, it is nothing very much.”

He pressed a piece of folded paper into her hand.

“I will, of course.”

He closed his eyes then. While he was drifting off Hannah studied his face, took note of the sound of his breathing. Then she got up slowly and worked the muscles of her shoulders.

It was her usual practice to discuss the experiment with the doctor; he noted down her observations when they differed from his own, and often he would challenge her to volunteer a conclusion. These were the discussions that Hannah looked forward to, but today she had a patient of her own waiting at home. Curiosity would not return to her own work until she could pass Miss Voyager into her care.

Bump had begun his work of cleaning up the laboratory, and Richard Todd was at his standing desk, recording the morning’s work. Both of them were concentrating and took no note of the way her stomach growled.

Hannah took her cloak from the wall and hung the leather apron in its place.

Richard looked up from his notes and frowned. “You aren’t going already.”

He had not put it to her as a question, but Hannah was determined not to be intimidated. “I must.”

He studied her for a moment, his jaw thrust forward. “Kitty asks that you join us for dinner. Her spirits are low, and I think a visit from you might do her some good.”

Hannah busied herself with her cloak so that he could not see her expression. This was an invitation she could not easily
refuse; Kitty was not really her patient, but she was Elizabeth’s sister-in-law, and that made her family, of a sort.

“Unless you’ve got more pressing business.”

He had put on his spectacles for writing and now he lowered his head to look at her from over the curved lenses.
As if I were a specimen in a sample dish,
Hannah thought. Richard Todd liked to think himself difficult to read, but Hannah knew the look he got when he was on the trail of something that interested him.

“They are expecting me at home,” she said.

“Another hour won’t make a difference.” He picked up his quill again and dipped it in the ink pot. “Unless there’s something else on your mind.”

Hannah said, “If you want to ask me about Liam Kirby, it would be better to do that directly.”

Bump barked out a short laugh, but Richard wasn’t so easily startled.

“Liam Kirby doesn’t interest me,” he said, his eyes running over the page before him. “But I do have another matter to discuss with you. After dinner.”

Hannah considered. If the doctor had an errand for her, or a patient he wanted her to see, he would have said so straight-out. This was something else. She might be able to put aside his attempts to arouse her family loyalty or make her feel guilty, but curiosity was another matter.

“An hour.” She bit back the urge to ask any other questions; he had already returned to his logbook, and would have ignored her anyway.

Richard Todd’s fine home—the only building built of brick in all Paradise—stood on a little rise just west of the village. The house was like a dowager queen who had lost her way in the woods and settled down, ill at ease, among lesser, ruder beings.

Hannah found Kitty in the parlor, tucked into the settee with Ethan on a straight chair beside her. He was reading to her from his morning’s school lessons in his clear, high voice, but rather than falling asleep as she often did, Kitty was listening with her mouth pressed hard together in vexation.

“‘These Reflections made me very sensible of the Goodness of Providence to me, and very thankful for my present Condition, with all its Hardships and Misfortunes: And
this Part also I cannot but recommend to the Reflection of those, who are apt in their Misery to say, Is any Affliction like mine! Let them consider, How much worse the Cases of some People are, and their Case might have been, if Providence had thought fit.’”

“What a very rational man was Mr. Robinson Crusoe,” said Kitty with a narrow smile. “And how shrewd of your aunt Bonner to give you that particular lesson to read just now.”

Ethan’s open expression clouded as he looked between the book and his mother. He was a compassionate child, and quick to sense unhappiness whether it was spoken plainly or not.

“But—”

“There is no time for a discussion right now. Greet your cousin and then go wash for dinner, Ethan.”

He came to Hannah with his brow still creased in confusion and greeted her formally, as his mother had directed. Hannah smiled at him and touched his cheek.

“You must go up to Lake in the Clouds later,” she said. “Lily could use your help with that panther’s head.”

He was such a sober little boy, but the mention of Lily made him smile. At the door he turned to his mother. “It was my choice. I chose
Robinson Crusoe.”

Before Kitty could respond, he had closed the door quietly.

“I meant to imply nothing critical about Elizabeth’s teaching,” Kitty said, almost fiercely. Because of course she had meant to do just that, and her son had corrected her in his own gentle way.

Hannah came to claim the chair next to Kitty, where she could observe her more closely.

Curiosity was worried, and with good cause. There was a translucent quality to Kitty’s skin, as if this stillbirth had used up some vital part of her. She was still bleeding heavily, in spite of all the liver and leeks she had been fed since the birth, and even more worrisome was the low fever that came and went without warning or pattern.

Hannah would have liked to talk to Kitty about her symptoms, to ask about pain and even to examine her, but she knew that her questions would be turned aside with that combination of surprise and offense that was so particularly Kitty’s. Richard Todd might value Hannah’s assistance in the laboratory, and Curiosity could treat her as a healer in her own right,
but to Kitty she would forever be Nathaniel Bonner’s half-Mohawk daughter. Not that she was directly cruel; that was not in her. But she was often thoughtless and self-absorbed, and many times the results were the same.

Now she was waiting for Hannah to tell her what she wanted to hear: that Ethan had misunderstood her; that she had done no harm. The things she did want of Hannah were things that could often not be given.

Instead Hannah said, “Is your head aching today?”

Kitty’s expression softened with disappointment and guilt as she lay back against the bolsters. “You are heartless. Yes, I will admit it. I should not have said such a thing, but I am tired of being told how a lady bears her loss.”

Hannah stood to straighten the rug that had slipped from Kitty’s legs. “Richard said you were asking for me.”

Her whole expression shifted, as if Hannah had presented her with some unexpected gift. “Did he speak to you, then? You will come with me?”

“Come with you?” Hannah drew back in surprise and alarm as she realized what a neat trap had been set. Richard had sent her here to be drawn into one of Kitty’s schemes and she had walked right into it without any suspicion, or defense.

Kitty took no note of Hannah’s disquiet. “Yes, to New-York City. It has been years since I’ve been, and Cousin Amanda has been begging for a visit—”

“You don’t mean to travel so far in your condition?”

Kitty shook her head impatiently. “It is for my health that I must go. I have the opportunity to put myself in the care of Dr. William Ehrlich.” She said this name with great ceremony, as she might have spoken of President Jefferson or King George.

“I don’t know this Dr. Ehrlich,” said Hannah. “Is he a friend of Richard’s?”

Kitty pointed with her chin toward a letter that lay open on the table next to her. “There is his latest letter. Read it for yourself.”

Hannah picked up the paper, but she left it unread in her lap. “Is it worth going so far to consult with this man?”

Kitty turned her face away, and at first Hannah thought she would not answer. Her fingers plucked nervously at the rug in her lap. Finally she said, “Richard has been corresponding
with him about my … condition. He has a genius for diagnosis, apparently, especially in cases such as mine.”

Hannah spread the letter over her knee to gain some time to think. “This was written in Philadelphia.”

“Yes, but he will be in New-York City for a month and he has agreed to take on my case.” She lifted her chin. “Richard thinks he may be able to cure me.”

“Cure you? Of what?”

Kitty flushed, as if Hannah had insulted her in some way. “Other women suffer losses and then bear healthy children. My mother lost two before I was born and Elizabeth lost one before Robbie. Why should it not be possible for me to do the same?”

The answer was in Kitty’s own face: hectic color had risen on her cheeks and her eyes were bright with new fever. Before Hannah could even think of how to say what she felt must be said, Kitty had reached forward to take her hands.

“You must come with me. Richard won’t let me travel alone in my poor health and no one else will come with me, not even Curiosity. Did Richard not speak to you of this?”

“No,” said Hannah slowly. “He must have been saving it for a surprise.”

While Curiosity was on Hidden Wolf looking after Selah Voyager, her daughter Daisy Hench was in charge of the Todd household. Hannah would have liked to go into the kitchen, where Daisy would be busy putting the last of the meal together. The room would be crowded with Daisy’s children, with Ethan in their midst. Certainly Daisy could use another set of willing hands, and there would be the chance to talk a little while they worked. Curiosity’s oldest daughter was one of the quietest and most settled souls Hannah knew. No doubt Daisy had heard about this travel scheme and could provide her with details that Kitty must be withholding.

But before she could think of an excuse to slip away, Richard arrived from the laboratory and then there was nothing to do but go in to table, where young Margit Hindle served the meal: ham, turnips and potatoes mashed with butter and pepper, pickled cabbage, cornbread, stewed apples. Margit was new to service and did not hesitate to study Hannah through her lashes, as fine and white as down, as was the hair
tucked into her cap. Kitty was too busy with her travel plans to notice that Margit needed correction, and Hannah would not credit rude behavior by drawing attention to it.

The food was good and Hannah was hungry, but she found it hard to concentrate on her plate, so strong was the urge to be away home. Richard sometimes looked at her from over the edge of his wine glass, but Hannah could read nothing from his expression, which made her strangely angrier than she already was about his maneuvering.

“Galileo can take us as far as Johnstown,” Kitty announced, and at that the last of Hannah’s intention not to be drawn into the conversation slipped away.

“Kitty,” she said firmly. “You will have to find somebody other than Galileo to take you to Johnstown. You must realize how poor his eyesight has become over the winter.”

Kitty had been arranging her food in neat piles over the pattern of roses on her plate as she talked, but she stopped to blink at Hannah. “What do you mean, take
me
to Johnstown? You said you would come along.”

“No, Kitty, I did not,” said Hannah firmly.

“But you must.” Kitty spoke to Hannah, but she had turned to Richard. “Make her understand, Richard.”

“I understand very well why you want me to come with you,” said Hannah, struggling with her temper. “And I hope that Dr. Ehrlich is everything you expect him to be. But I cannot travel so far, not now.”

There was a moment of strained silence, and then a look of relief chased across Kitty’s face. “Oh,” she said. “You are thinking of Anna and Jed’s wedding. But we don’t intend to leave until next week. You can go to the wedding party—but I hope it is not Liam Kirby you are expecting to meet there. I hear that he is married, is that not so, Margit?”

Margit bobbed her head. “That’s what he told Anna. It put Jemima Southern in such a foul temper to hear it that—”

BOOK: Lake in the Clouds
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