Medium Dead: An Alexandra Gladstone Mystery (3 page)

Alexandra said nothing.

“Mother claims no one is fit to treat her except her physician in London. That’s what I meant when I said she won’t trust you.”

Alexandra’s only response was a noncommittal “Mmm-hmm.” She had seen her share of patients who didn’t trust her, especially in the early days of her practice in Newton-upon-Sea soon after her father, the trusted physician for the town, had died and she took over his practice for him. She’d done her best to be understanding. After all, when a person trusts his health and life to someone, he shouldn’t do it lightly.

Nicholas gave her a quick glance. “Is that all you’re going to say? Just ‘Mmm-hmm’?”

She turned toward him. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say.”

“Must you always put such distance between us?”

She didn’t respond. Nicholas had, in the past, made her aware of his feelings for her, but she had never dared admit her own feelings. He was a member of the peerage, and she was distinctly middle class. She was in no position to deal with the problems that would cause with his family or with her own life as the only doctor in Newton-upon-Sea.

“Very well, then,” Nicholas said, apparently resigning himself to her silence. “We shall concentrate on MaMa and nothing else, and I shall do my best to pave the way for you.”

“My Lord Dunsford—”

“So we’re back to that, are we? Can’t you at least forget my title and call me Nicholas? I’d much prefer that, and I will attach no more than friendship to such familiarity on your part.”

She glanced at him, but in the darkness it was difficult to see his face. She was glad that he would not be able to see hers, either. “I’m sorry, Nicholas. I had no intention of offending you.”

“Very well.” He sounded a little too brusque. “Now, what was it you had started to say?”

“I was only going to say that it may be rather difficult for you to pave the way, as you put it, but that I shall do my best in any event.” That was not at all what she’d wanted to say.

“I’m sure you will.”

Alexandra pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. His taciturn remark had chilled her as much as the cold November air. Why couldn’t he understand the difficulties their relationship could cause if it went beyond friendship?

Montmarsh, the country estate of Nicholas Forsythe, sixth Earl of Dunsford, was ablaze with light, as if a candle or lamp had been lit in each of the house’s many rooms. The lights gave it the look of a collection of sparkling jewels against the black velvet fabric of night.

As soon as Nicholas stopped the carriage, two grooms appeared, one to hold the horses and the second to help Alexandra step down.

“Mind the step, miss,” the groom said as he took her hand.

Within seconds Nicholas was at her side, holding her arm to guide her the short distance to the walkway leading up to the house. “I still haven’t become accustomed to all the attention one gets as an earl.” His voice sounded as if he were making an effort to lighten his mood. “Makes me think I should have made a concerted effort to become an earl sooner.”

Nicholas Forsythe had inherited the title and the land of the Earl of Dunsford soon after the fifth Earl of Dunsford, a cousin with no heirs, had died at the hands of a disgruntled business partner. Though Nicholas was a second son and had no expectations of inheritance, his older brother had refused the title. He had inherited the land and title of their father, which he claimed was quite enough to distract him from his true interest of biology. He was a devotee of Charles Darwin and more interested in finding new species in the animal kingdom than he was in the peerage of the United Kingdom.

The door to Montmarsh opened as if by magic when they approached. “Thank you, Lancaster,” Nicholas said to the butler who had opened the door. Alexandra could see a bevy of servants at the end of the great hall, trying without success to stay out of sight as they looked on with curiosity. She felt their eyes following the two of them all the way upstairs. Then they came to an open door, revealing a room richly furnished with a high four-poster bed of heavily carved mahogany and spread with a satin coverlet of cream and green. Underneath the coverlet, Alexandra could see the profile of a slender, dark-haired woman, well past her youth but still beautiful. A female servant, most likely the lady’s personal maid, was at her side, adjusting the pillows.

“MaMa?” Nicholas knocked lightly at the half-opened door as he spoke.

“Nicholas? Is that you?”

“Yes, my dear lady. I’ve brought someone to see you.”

“Nicky, you wouldn’t dare! Not when I look so…Who is that?” she said when she spied Alexandra entering with her bag in hand.

“Lady Forsythe, may I present Dr. Alexandra Gladstone.”

There was no response from Lady Forsythe as she kept her eyes trained on Alexandra, who took immediate note of the lady’s flushed face and bleary eyes.

Nicholas spoke again. “I’ve brought her here to—”

“Did you say
doctor
?” Lady Forsythe still had not taken her eyes from Alexandra.

“Dr. Gladstone,” Nicholas said. “She is the physician for the parish and one of the best—”

“I should say not,” Lady Forsythe said, interrupting him. She winced slightly as she tried to turn away from Alexandra.

“But, MaMa—”

“Please don’t cause an embarrassing scene, Nicky. I will allow no one to examine me except Dr. Smythson. Not even Sir…well, never mind.”

“But Dr. Smythson is in London.”

“Precisely.” There was a definitive tone to the lady’s voice. “Nicky, my dear, I’m sure Miss Gladstone is quite adequate for the people of the village, but Dr. Smythson has the finest and highest degree of training available for a physician. I have already sent for him.”

“My lady,” Nicholas said, trying once again to persuade her, “it will take a good day for him to arrive if he comes by train, so that means late tomorrow at the earliest. It will take longer if he insists upon traveling by coach, as he has in the past.”

“I quite understand, my lady,” Alexandra said quickly before Lady Forsythe could respond. “It is always wise to choose one’s physician carefully.”

Lady Forsythe’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Alexandra. “You see, Nicky,” she said after a moment. “Even the young woman agrees with me.”

“Forgive me, Your Ladyship,” Alexandra said before Nicholas could try again to come to her defense. “If I may ask, is the rash becoming more painful?”

Lady Forsythe’s eyes grew even wider. “The rash?”

“On your trunk. Perhaps on one side and wrapping around toward your back?”

“How…how did you know?” Lady Forsythe touched her right side gingerly.

“I suspect it is red and quite painful. Sometimes it feels as if the pain is in your chest.”

“Why, yes,” Lady Forsythe said. “That’s exactly…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at Alexandra with a mixture of suspicion and awe.

“You’ve never had these symptoms before?”

“No, certainly not,” Lady Forsythe said.

Alexandra nodded but said nothing more.

“What does it mean? That I’ve never had the symptoms before, and now I’m experiencing so much pain?”

“You’ve experienced a rather high level of anxiety recently.” Alexandra kept her tone matter-of-fact, hoping not to overly excite the lady.

“Yes, yes, of course I have. Not until I came here, of course. But when one has guests who demand such…Well, never mind that,” she said, wincing again at the pain in her side. “Just tell me what it all means.”

“It means you need rest, and you should drink water to help bring down your fever. Perhaps you could allow Nicholas to entertain your guest. As for the rash, since I haven’t seen it, I can’t say if any vesicles have appeared—”

“Oh, yes, yes. One or two have just begun to appear.” Lady Forsythe was becoming excited.

“Have any begun to form pustules?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t see all the way around to the…” She stopped speaking and kept her eyes on Alexandra.

Alexandra glanced briefly at Nicholas, who caught her message immediately. “Excuse me,” he said. “I was just leaving.” The lady’s maid stepped aside for him to exit the room while she stood silently near the wall.

As soon as he was gone, Lady Forsythe threw back the satin coverlet. Alexandra came closer to the bedside, and with great care and discretion lifted Lady Forsythe’s nightgown to reveal the reddened area. “Ah, yes,” she said.

“What?” Lady Forsythe asked in an anxious voice.

“The pustules have not yet formed, but they most likely will. The pain may be intense for a while, but a compound of yellow dock will be soothing. You might want to use it. Until Dr. Smythson arrives, that is.” Alexandra opened her bag and removed the vial of ointment she’d put inside before she left her surgery. “If I may?” she said, holding the vial up for Lady Forsythe to see.

“Oh, yes. Yes, please,” she said.

“It will be best if you also apply a compound ointment of oxide of zinc. I can bring it later. With your permission, of course.”

“Well…”

“You can decide tomorrow,” Alexandra said, not wanting to push her too hard. “I’ll come have a look if you like.”

“I can’t see that any harm would come of…What exactly do I have?” the lady asked, her voice once again marked with anxiety.

“It appears to be herpes zoster.”

“Oh, dear!” She sounded frightened.

“Also known as shingles.”

Lady Forsythe visibly relaxed at the sound of the more familiar name.

“It often occurs when a person has been distressed.”

Lady Forsythe nodded, looking morose, as if she was remembering the stress.

“I suggest you rest.”

“But I can’t!” she cried. “I have a guest who…and don’t suggest my son help. It wouldn’t do.”

“Perhaps I could give you something to help you relax.”

“Well…”

“I assure you it would not be anything Dr. Smythson would disapprove of. It is a simple compound anyone can buy at the apothecary.”

“Well, if you think it will help.”

“It will most certainly help,” Alexandra said. “Dr. Smythson can reevaluate when he arrives.”

“Very well,” the lady said with a little nod toward her maid. “Hannah can administer any medicine you prescribe.”

“I’ll leave it with her, along with instructions on how to administer it,” Alexandra said as she pulled a small bottle of laudanum from her bag. “I’ll leave the ointment as well.”

“Oh, yes, please do. The pain has subsided just a little. I’ll most certainly use it. Until Dr. Smythson arrives, at least.”

“Of course,” Alexandra said, taking both the laudanum and the ointment to the lady’s maid, to give her the instructions.

“I bid you good night, Lady Forsythe, and I shall see you tomorrow,” she said after she’d spoken to Hannah.

Lady Forsythe responded with only a nod.

Nicholas was waiting for her in the hall as she left the bedroom. “Is she going to be all right?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. Although she may experience pain for several days. And to put your mind at ease, she has no disease of the heart. She has shingles.”

“Shingles?”

“A particularly painful rash sometimes brought on by experiencing adversity in one’s life.”

“Brought on by adversity? That sounds highly unlikely. That adversity can cause physical symptoms, I mean. Perhaps you can explain that to me on the ride back to your house,” he said.

“I’ll do my best.”

“You always do,” he said, and offered her his arm.

She was glad to see that he had given up on being petulant. She took his arm and allowed him to escort her downstairs. “Before we go, I’d like to look in on Mrs. Pickwick, if she’s still awake. She came to the surgery with a complaint recently. I’d just like to see how she’s faring.”

“Of course. I’ll take you to her quarters and wait for you outside the door,” Nicholas said.

Alexandra allowed him to escort her while she looked around surreptitiously, hoping to catch sight of the guest who was so troublesome as to cause Mrs. Pickwick’s headaches and Lady Forsythe’s shingles. When they reached the cook’s room in the servants’ quarters downstairs, the door was closed, with no light seeping from underneath.

“It’s quite obvious she’s already gone to bed.” Alexandra kept her voice to a whisper. “I won’t disturb her until I return tomorrow.”

“You’re returning tomorrow?” Nicholas said with a measure of excitement in his voice. “When shall I be there with the carriage?”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I can manage by riding Lucy, as I always do.”

Nicholas said something. Probably an assurance that he’d come with the carriage, but Alexandra couldn’t be at all sure of what he’d said. She was distracted by an ornate and obviously expensive carriage that rolled past a lamp just outside a low window. Only the bottom half of the carriage was visible from the lower floor, but Alexandra was quite certain she’d seen the royal coat of arms adorning the door, only partially visible because of an ill-placed drape.

“Come,” Nicholas said, offering her his arm. “You can wait in the front hall while I fetch the carriage.”

Alexandra walked with him to the grand hall, but as soon as he was out the door, she hurried back to the kitchen, hoping that his fetching the carriage would give her time to have a look around the back.

A door led to stairs from the basement area. She climbed up and opened another door, stepping outside. She searched around in the rapidly fading light. The carriage was nowhere in sight.

She was about to turn around and return to the kitchen when something caught her eye. It was a man, dressed in livery, walking toward the house from what must have been the carriage house. He carried something in his hand. A knife!

Alexandra continued to watch as the carriage driver pulled a large handkerchief from one of his pockets and rubbed hard at a dark blotch on the blade of the knife. His efforts were in vain, however, since the blotch remained on the blade. It looked to Alexandra suspiciously like blood. Dried blood, as if it had been on the long knife for at least a day.

The man sensed her gaze and glanced up at her. Her first instinct was to turn around and escape back into the kitchen, but she forced herself to hold her ground and kept looking at the man.