Miss Sally's Unsuitable Soldier Maggie Dallen (ebook reader online .txt) 📖

She nodded and his smile broadened in return. As she studied him there in the waning light of day, she tried her best to listen to her instincts, but that sensation in her belly was highly irregular and not terribly helpful.

What it told her was this—she truly ought to run. The problem she was having was deciding which direction she ought to go. Even now with the eyes of the ton on them, she had this overwhelming urge to run to him. To lean against him and let him shoulder her burdens.

But the fact that she wanted to do such a thing…

Well, that told her that if she was smart, she would run far, far away.

Chapter 5

Sally didn’t run far. In point of fact, she didn’t run at all. Though she was rather well hidden the next day as she took care of the earl in his private rooms.

“There now,” she said with the same air she used with all her patients back in Billingham. “You seem fit as a fiddle this morning.”

The earl scowled up at her. “Didn’t Dr. Roberts give you some medicine for my aches? He always gives me medicine.”

Sally bit her lip as she pondered how to respond. She was certain Dr. Roberts did give him drops to take. She was equally certain that those drops held little more than oil and some aromatic herbs.

Just between you and me, Sally, the physician had said before she’d left. It’s not his health that ails him. He’d arched his brows meaningfully and tapped his temple. What Sebastian had said had only reaffirmed what the doctor had told her.

His message had been clear, but equally clear was the fact that the poor man was suffering. Whether it was physical or mental or emotional or even spiritual, it was not for her to judge the extent of his pain.

“I have it right here, my lord,” she said, busying herself with the stoppered glass bottles and equipment Dr. Roberts had supplied her with. The silence in the room was deafening, just as it had been the evening before when she’d been alone with the older man aside from a maid and his manservant.

Was he this silent with Dr. Roberts? She thought not. But she had no idea how to ease this tense silence. If only she had Abigail’s sweet nature that put even the prickliest pirate at ease. Or Rebecca’s ability to chatter lightheartedly no matter what the atmosphere around her. Even Hattie would have fared better. Her shy little sister would no doubt have been in her element in this silence, relieved that no one was expecting her to converse.

But he was stuck with Sally, and she with him. She was neither known for her knack with people nor her ability to fill silence. All she was truly good for was this. She went over to him with the wooden cylinder Dr. Roberts had taught her how to use.

Apparently a very vague complaint about his lungs was one of the earl’s common complaints. He scowled mightily when she drew near. “What is that blasted thing supposed to be?”

She glanced down at the not-at-all offensive looking item that seemed to irritate him so. “It is a stethoscope,” she said slowly, trying her best to imbue her words with that kind patience that Abigail managed so naturally.

“I’ve heard of them. That’s one of those French contraptions,” he snapped. “But they don’t look like that and Dr. Roberts never used one of those on me.”

She wet her lips as she tried to think of the most diplomatic explanation. She let out a long exhale as she realized there was no way around it. Blunt was all she knew. “He only just received the instrument, because one of his physician friends was touring the continent and obtained one for him.”

The old man scowled. She studied him for a moment from a few paces away. From this point of view, with him sitting there on a settee, his jacket off and his shirtsleeves rolled up, he looked less like an earl and more like...well, a human.

There was almost something childlike in the wary way he eyed the equipment. She moved forward slowly. No, perhaps eloquence and charm were not within her skillset, but she did understand fear, and she knew better than most that when it came to scientific advancements, even the most austere and terrifying of men feared what they did not understand.

“A physician named René Laennec was responsible for the idea and the first execution,” she said, holding the harmless tube out for him to study. After a brief hesitation he took it from her and turned it over in his hands. “This is the new model, created by Pierre Piorry. It’s quite portable, as you see.”

“Mmph.” The noise was one of acknowledgement if not agreement. Close enough.

“Dr. Roberts insisted that I bring it with me. He wanted to ensure that you receive the very best care.”

His next grunt sounded far more congenial, if a grunt could convey such a thing.

Flattery, the older doctor had told her. When it comes to the earl and his ilk, flattery is your best strategy to win the battle.

She hadn’t supposed she’d need warfare tactics to play nursemaid to an earl who seemed to be in perfectly fine health, but she was starting to understand what the physician had been talking about.

There seemed to be different rules at play here than in her hometown. She was well used to the fragile male egos of the officers, who refused to say when they were hurting, or the way those same blustering men would wail like babies at the slightest chill. But add in the status and power that came with being an earl and she supposed it was another level of pride at stake altogether.

“Very well.” He thrust the tube back in her direction. “And you say you know how to use this?”

“Dr. Roberts would not have sent