The Fire's Center Page 9

  "Yes, I am," Lucien admitted, "but only because the weather still bodes ill. If we had had better conditions, I would have been contented to stay out in the country a while longer.

  "I was brought up down in County Wicklow, you know, but the house is empty now apart from my uncle Oliver. I moved to the townhouse to give him some room, and because it is a little bit too far for me to travel if I have many patients to see. I would in any case have needed consulting rooms in town, so the townhouse seemed just the right thing.

  "My brother Quentin has a lovely home just on the outskirts of the city, on the road to Maynooth, which he built a few years ago. I must say I envy him, having the best of both worlds. But then of course, he’s married, with a wife to look after the household affairs. You’ll find the townhouse a bit rough and ready, especially with my clients coming in and out, and very few servants."

  "I’m sure it will be fine. I’ll see you at nine for breakfast?"

  "In your room?"

  "Fine. Good night, and thank you for a lovely evening."

  "No, thank you, Riona," Lucien said, kissing her briefly on the lips before closing the door to his room softly.

  As she got ready for bed, Riona thought uneasily once more of moving into Lucien’s townhouse. Would it spoil all they had shared so far on their journey together?

  The last thing Riona wanted was for them to start behaving like polite strangers. Not when they had the makings of a wonderful friendship, and had got past the rigid class-based social conventions.

  On the other hand, to dream of sharing more with him was almost unthinkable. She knew she was responding to him more and more as a man, not just her employer. Everyone seemed to be mistaking them for a couple in love.

  But men of Lucien's class didn't marry for love. They married for duty, wealth, social connections. If they ever got involved with a woman of a lower class, it either meant scandal and ruin for the girl, who was labelled fallen thereafter, or it meant the same for the man, flouting society's mores.

  She knew sexual relations out of wedlock were a sin, with any child of such a union given an ugly name, and without rights. They might even end up in an orphanage, or a workhouse, cast aside by both parents.

  Yet if love of that nature were so wrong, why did so many fall prey to its wonders?

  Riona wasn't sure, but the more time she spent with Lucien, the more she was coming to believe that for a man like him, she might indeed be prepared to risk everything.

  The only question was, did he feel the same? Or would he once more retreat into his cold, isolated world of books and social obligations, and leave her feeling like an outsider in her new home?

  Chapter Ten

  Riona needn’t have worried that her relationship with Lucien would deteriorate when she arrived at her new home, for once Lucien was back in Dublin, he commenced his plans to train Riona as fully as possible to be his assistant without a moment's hesitation.

  After breakfast and a long chilly coach ride, with Riona and Lucien snuggled up together going over all he had taught her so far, they arrived at Merrion Square West at about dinner time, and immediately ordered hot food.

  The surprised servants did their best to arrange for an impromptu meal, but Lucien hardy noticed what he ate as he sorted through his correspondence, while Riona leafed through a copy of Gray’s Anatomy which he had handed her almost as soon as he had walked in through the door.

  Riona thought it an odd welcoming present, but she couldn’t fail to be impressed with the house and her reception there. All the servants were extremely polite to her, asked no questions, and were more than eager to show her the whole house and give her the pick of the guest rooms once they realized she was to be staying there for some time.

  Riona wondered if their reception was due to the fact that Lucien had brought women there before, but she tried to push the jealous thought to one side as Lucien himself showed her the downstairs.

  It was comprised of a drawingroom and dining room on the left hand side of a large foyer, and a small waiting area, consulting room, dressing room and study for Lucien’s patients on the right.

  Lucien then instructed her to make sure she chose whichever of the bedrooms she liked upstairs, and she ascended in the care of Niamh the young serving maid.

  The second floor was again divided into a study-cum-office, full of papers and files, with a library on the one side, and a large suite of rooms comprising bathroom, dressing room, with a bathroom with a huge porcelain tub in between on the other.

  Riona could tell these rooms were Lucien’s, and so she ascended to the next floor, where she had a choice of four guest rooms, each adjoining two slightly smaller and less luxurious bathrooms than the one she had seen downstairs.

  The furniture in each of the rooms was dark and sturdy, but one was slightly more feminine than the others, and boasted a four-poster bed. The curtains of the bed were cream with a light floral pattern, and the Aubusson carpet underfoot matched perfectly.

  There was a small pale blue chair and walnut writing desk by the window, and two larger wing-backed chairs by the fireplace. In the corner was a large walnut wardrobe, and next to it a small matching dressing table, above which hung a small bevelled mirror.

  "I think this one would suit me best, don’t you?"

  Yes, Miss," Niamh agreed, and offered her help getting settled.

  "No, really, I am sure there is plenty to do downstairs, but thank you for the tour," Riona replied.

  Once she was alone, Riona unpacked her valise, and after laying out her brush and comb on the dressing table, and hanging all of her gowns and two cloaks in the wardrobe, she sat down at the desk and began to read her anatomy book.

  A tap at the door about ten minutes later heralded Lucien’s arrival.

  "I see you’ve chosen the room facing east. You’ll get more sun in the morning, eh? At any rate, let’s see if we can’t make it a bit more cozy for you, with some cushions and so on," he observed.

  He went into each of the other rooms and gathered up various items. He added more small pale blue frilled pillows to the bed, and a thick navy and red plaid blanket, which he folded and put at the foot.

  "I see you’ve laid out your books, but choose anything you like from the library downstairs, and don’t be reading Gray’s Anatomy all the time. I’m not that harsh a taskmaster, you know."

  She smiled. "You’ve been a very patient teacher so far. In fact, far more so than I am with my pupils."

  "Nonsense," he said with a shake of his head, before continuing to make sure the room passed muster. "I'm sure you were an admirable governess, with all you know. Here, let’s put a few more ornaments on the mantelpiece, and a fire screen. It’s too cold in here to sit without a fire, so why don’t you come downstairs into my study with me? You can help me write my letters, and do some reading, and there’s a fine blaze in there. I don’t expect you to hide in your room when I’m not around, either. You may use any of the rooms in the house. I have no secrets or inner sanctum, as it were," Lucien informed her.

  "Thank you, Dr. Woulfe. Really, you’ve been so kind."

  Just then Lucien frowned. "What is all this Dr. Woulfe nonsense, just when you were starting to call me Lucien with such grace and ease?"

  "Well, it wouldn’t really be proper in front of anyone else, now would it?"

  He glanced around once more. "So far as I can see, there are only two people in this room. But yes, I suppose you are right, on more formal visits, I imagine it would be appropriate.

  "Oh, speaking of formal visits, I’ve invited my brother Quentin around to tea at four, and I hope you'll join us," Lucien requested.

  She stared at him in surprise. "Wouldn’t you prefer to be alone with him?"

  "We have some small matters of business to discuss, boring financial details which I must confess don’t interest me very much. There's nothing private we need to say to one another. In fact, some of the money matters concern the clinic, so I'd like you to hear what is
being said."

  "All right then, I’ll be there."

  "Will you come help me with my letters, or are you too tired?" Lucien asked, shooting her a concerned glance.

  "No, I’m fine. Letters it is."

  Riona accompanied him down to the study on the second floor, a large room facing west with a huge mahogany desk in the centre, some small bookshelves on either side of the fire place, and several tables, sofas and chairs.

  There was also a large globe standing on one corner of the room, and a large pair of double doors swung open to give access to an impressive library. The book shelves stretched from floor to ceiling on four sides of the room, uninterrupted save for a space for the fireplace, and one for the window.

  Riona marvelled at both rooms briefly before Lucien seated her at the desk in the study with a supply of pens, papers and ink. Then he began pacing around the room while he dictated replies to the pile of correspondence he had leafed through at dinner.

  Many of the letters dealt with specific case referrals, which Riona found of great interest. Others dealt with his financial incomings and outgoings, and ideas for the clinics from the various committee members, who certainly seemed to be at loggerheads over how it should be run.

  "For heaven’s sake, we're meant to be opening at the end of next week, and we still haven’t got any doctors hired yet," Lucien sighed in exasperation, as he leafed through the letters once more to make sure he hadn’t missed one.

  "Rather than people trying to do their part in isolation from the others, why don’t you have a meeting once a week, and centrally assign them their jobs?" Riona suggested.

  "That’s an excellent idea, but rather than in a stuffy office somewhere, we can invite them here, for luncheon say, Sunday? And you shall not only play gracious hostess, but take the minutes. As soon as we at last agree on which candidates to shortlist, we could then begin interviewing doctors on Monday."

  "Very well, Lucien. I shall do my best," Riona assented, even though she was daunted by the task.

  But she was the last person in the world who wanted to put a damper on the clinic enterprise, not after all she had seen on her way down from Donegal.

  She immediately wrote copies of the letter of invitation to the sixteen men on the committee as Lucien instructed.

  "With myself as the seventeenth person, that makes eighteen of us for dinner. Even if they all don’t attend, provided we have nine altogether, including myself, we can formulate some decisions and act upon them.

  "I only need three men on the interview panel, myself amongst them, so at the bottom of Edward Sturton’s and Stewart Benn’s letters, can you please ask them if they would be available to interview on Monday, with Ernest Norton in reserve in case one or the other of them can’t make it? At least I am fairly sure that we are reasonably like-minded, and won’t end up in any protracted negotiations as to whom we should select. They are all good judges of character, and Edward does have some knowledge of medicine himself."

  Riona nodded and wrote the letters in a clear, round hand, with a rapidity which astonished Lucien.

  "Beautiful, everyone of them, and completed in half the time it would have taken me to dash them off." Suddenly he grinned. "And with my writing, no one would have been able to read them anyway."

  "This dinner, then, for anywhere from ten to eighteen people. What shall Mrs. Kinsella make? We will have to organise something soon if we are to be ready in time," Riona reminded him.

  "I think there are some of my mother’s old recipe books here," he pointed at the bottom bookshelf. "Would you like to have a look and tell me what you think?"

  "A roast would be good, lamb or beef perhaps, if they all like them?"

  He nodded. "Both."

  While Lucien leafed through some statements from his bank, Riona glanced through the books rapidly. Having done this sort of thing before, she knew exactly what to feed a squad of hungry men, but also wanted to impress them at the same time.

  Within minutes, Riona had drawn up an impressive menu, and again Lucien marvelled at how quickly Riona arranged everything, even down to the correct wines to have with each course.

  "Mrs. Woodham taught me a little of what she knew before she died," Riona explained shyly when Lucien praised her knowledge in the highest terms.

  "I can see having you as a secretary and helper is going to make my life a great deal easier."

  He now offered her an empty pocketbook. "You can carry that around with you, to make notes at meetings and so on. Here is a small inkpot, and some pens, and you can carry them in this small Morocco leather pouch," he said handing her the items one by one.

  "And now I want you to come with me to check through my medical bag. I always need to make sure the drug bottles are kept filled, and that I re-order drugs for the bottles on the shelves here in my consulting rooms, and at the clinic, is that clear?"

  She nodded, and felt elated that he was trusting her with so important a task.

  "I usually put in an order once a month, and I haven’t done it yet because I’ve been away. Do you think once a month is too infrequent? I could make it fortnightly."

  "I think with the new clinic, fortnightly would be better, Lucien," Riona agreed.

  She headed a page at the back of her new little book ‘Drugs, March 1847,’ and waited patiently while Lucien perused the letters she had written just to make an occasional addition of his own, before saying, "They’re fine now. Seal them please, and I shall give them to the boy to take round."

  Riona did as she was instructed, while Lucien went through the shelves, pulling down some of his more basic medical textbooks, and a list of drugs and their properties he wanted her to begin learning. If she was to be his apothecary, she needed to train quickly.

  Riona finished with the letters, and moved over to where Lucien was standing. There she spotted a book on herbs identical to the one her mother had had.

  "I’ll take this as well, if I may, Lucien," Riona asked timidly, with a touch of homesickness.

  "Yes of course, Riona, take whatever you like. Here, this can be your little reading corner by the fire. The servants always have a blaze going in here, and downstairs in my medical rooms. But I warn you, I'm still going to give you a bone test every so often just to keep you on your toes, so don’t be reading to many potboilers," he quipped.

  Riona retorted by naming all the bones in the foot.

  Lucien tickled her ribs playfully until they were both breathless. Then, as if recollecting himself, he sobered, and brought her downstairs to view his small waiting room and consulting room.

  The windows faced west, and his desk and chair were placed squarely in front of them. To the right of the desk was the medical cabinet, and to the left the small dressing room partitioned off from the rest of the room.

  A set of brightly polished oak sliding doors led to his medical study, with a skeleton in one corner, more bookshelves, a small desk and chair, and a day bed in the far corner by the window, made up with small scroll pillows and covered with a brightly decorated red and blue throw. There was also a small leather sofa, and a worktable.

  "This is where I do most of my tests and experiments," he indicated proudly, and then showed her his microscope, which she marvelled at.

  "But come, Quentin will be here soon and we have much to do," Lucien instructed, leading Riona back into the consulting room, where he opened his black medical bag, and asked her to refill the bottles to familiarise herself with the contents of each of them.

  As she worked, he told her some of the properties of each drug, and she eagerly seized on each new piece of information, and tried to retain it.

  Just as they were finishing, there was a tap at the door.

  "If you please, sir, Mr. Quentin Woulfe is here to see you," the maid informed him.

  "We’re just about finished in here, Niamh, but you might as well show Quentin in while I tidy away, " Lucien requested as Riona continued to fill the bottles.

  Riona frowned at o
ne label. "I can’t read this one, Lucien."

  Lucien stooped to help her read it. "Ye gods, my handwriting is bad, isn’t it?" he laughed down at her jovially. "It says valerian."

  "Thank you," she said, making a face at him before storing it away.

  "When I have time I’ll have to make up some neater labels," Riona teased.

  Unbeknownst to them, this whole exchange had been witnessed by Quentin, who stood in the doorway wondering if he had come to the wrong house.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quentin stood stock still, staring in shock.

  There was a woman in his brother’s consulting rooms, filling the medicine bottles and laughing and joking, calling Lucien by his first name.