Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Damn drunk! Comes in here drinking all day, messing with my customers. Can’t do nothing about it ’cause of his father. I swear, if he ruins my floors again, I will clobber him,” she went on, grumbling, as I checked him over. He had hives around his neck and was struggling to breathe.
“We need to get him home.”
“Don’t worry about him, Doctor. This ain’t nothing new,” Mrs. Stoneshire said as a large brawny man, standing a full head taller than me, grabbed him by his arm with ease.
“John, I presume?” I said.
“Yep, he gets all the castaways home if they ain’t paying to stay. You enjoy your lunch—”
“I’ll follow you. Wait a moment,” I said as I moved back up the stairs.
“What of your lunch?”
“Later!”
“That will cost you!”
No sympathy in the slightest, but I did not care at the moment. Instead, I entered my room and took my medical bag. I was sure it was not serious, but it would not hurt to check. When I came back down, the man had completely fainted under the furious gaze of Mrs. Stoneshire.
“It’s not far,” John said to me, and I nodded for him to lead the way.
“Do you need help with him?”
“It’s fine, Doctor. Besides, I don’t think he could afford your services and would ruin your clothes.” John laughed.
I did not say a word in return, keeping an eye on Simon’s condition while also glancing about town. I knew the odds were slim that I would just come across Verity walking about here. But still, I found myself checking.
It took us all of ten minutes until we found ourselves before a white-colored stone house, the finest in town, clearly. And the servants seemed well familiar with John as they just waved him to come in through the back.
“Go inform the magistrate,” one maid said to another as we entered the kitchen.
“He has company—”
“Even still, he will wish to know,” she said, picking up her skirts. It was then that she noticed me. “Who are you?”
“Dr. Darrington. I met Simon at the inn. We need to get him to bed.”
“This way, please,” she said, her tone changing after she looked me over.
This was how it often was. Servants always saw me as greater than them, while their employers looked down upon me once they found out my true station in society. Ignoring all of them, I followed them into Simon’s room.
“You may go back down, John. Thank you,” the maid said sternly after he had put the man to bed.
He did not even blink twice at her tone.
“Dr. Darrington, I do not believe your services are needed—”
“I am aware this is a common occurrence. Nevertheless, I will examine him, as his symptoms are greater than an average drunk,” I replied, undoing his clothing. There were bumps on his collarbones as well. “Tell me, does his face often flush like this?”
“Only after drinking.”
“And these hives on his chest?” I asked.
“I would not know, Doctor. Why?”
I pressed into his stomach, and he groaned even while sleeping. I pressed into his neck, but there was no bump there, nor were there any under his arms.
“Who are you, and what in the hell are you doing to my son?” questioned a man from the door.
“Mr. Humphries, this is Dr. Darrington. He came with your son—”
“If he is consorting with my son, he cannot be a very good doctor!” he snapped at her.
“I have only met him today, Mr. Humphries, as I am recently arrived from London,” I said to him, but the scowl on his face remained as he glared down at his son.
“Regardless, your talents are wasted on this fool. And so is the cost to procure your services, so good day to you—”
“I believe your son is in need of medical assistance.”
“What he needs is sense and self-control. Unfortunately, that cannot be bought, for if so, I would have spent a fortune to acquire it for him.”
He was quick to respond but was not really listening to me. And I could not force him to accept my aid. So I grabbed my bag. However, before I could say goodbye, I heard a loud crash below us, followed by a thundering voice bellowing—
“You and your mother are exactly the same! Vile, gluttonous pigs, using whomever you please as if they were mere ladders for your lives!”
My eyes widened, as I was sure I knew that voice.
“By God, who is that?” The magistrate rushed back out the door, as did I. The source of the commotion was growing even louder.
“I took what was mine by right!”
“I am the first—”
“You are a bastard! The son of a butcher’s daughter! You have no right to Everely. You have no right to the nobility! We will not have you. The lot you were given was better than you deserved!”