Because of Rebecca - By Leanne Tyler Page 0,12

he is, miss.”

Josephine stirred and tried to sit up. “Oh my head,” she muttered. “What am I doing on the floor?”

Rebecca supported her aunt and helped her to the chaise.

“You passed out, dear. Just lay still until the doctor arrives.”

“Doctor! I don’t need a doctor. Why…Who is fetching him?” Josephine asked, glancing around the room.

“Mr. Hollingsworth ran to get Doctor Gordon for us,” Rebecca explained.

Josephine raised her hand to her head and moaned. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Kill you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Bringing a man you hardly know to our suite. Wasn’t it bad enough you accepted an invitation from him for a picnic without a proper chaperone?”

“But you were going to be there. What more of a chaperone would I need?” Rebecca asked, leaning forward and pulling Lucas away from the rocking chair where he tried to pull up.

Josephine moaned again. “I feel an attack of the vapors coming on.”

“Vapors?” a gruff voice barked, causing Josephine to stop in mid-swoon.

“I beg your pardon. Who are you?” she asked, her eyes enlarged at having a strange man enter their suite unannounced.

Rebecca watched her aunt closely as she got to her feet, surprised the woman didn’t faint dead away.

“Doctor Ancil Gordon at your service, Madame,” he answered. “What seems to be the problem?”

“My aunt is a very delicate lady, Doctor Gordon. She doesn’t take to excitement well,” Rebecca explained, bouncing Lucas on her hip. “She’s been suffering with headaches since we arrived in town a few days ago.”

“Are you prone to fainting?” Doctor Gordon looked over the rim of his spectacles.

“Not as much as she’s taken with the vapors,” Rebecca replied.

“Rebecca, I can speak for myself,” Josephine said tightly, accepting Doctor Gordon’s help to stand.

“Yes. You most certainly can,” Rebecca remarked. She turned and acknowledged Mr. Hollingsworth’s return with a smile. “Charlotte, help my aunt into the bedroom so Doctor Gordon can perform his examination.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Mr. Hollingsworth, let’s have our picnic at the table here,” Rebecca said. “Would you mind holding Lucas while I set out the food?”

“N—no, not at all,” he stammered, taking the boy from her.

“Good, we’ll be eating in no time,” she assured him, picking up the basket and placing the food onto the small dining table on the far side of the suite.

****

Once inside her bedroom, Josephine settled on the bed, never taking her eyes off of the doctor. She didn’t like doctors. Never had. And she despised the whole profession ever since that charlatan let her precious Mariah die.

“Your niece said you’ve been having headaches for a few days. Is that correct?” Doctor Gordon asked.

“Yes. Since we arrived in Jackson,” she responded.

“And where do you call home?”

“Memphis.”

The doctor nodded, and opened his worn leather bag.

“Did you suffer from headaches there?” He glanced at her over the rim of his spectacles again.

“Occasionally. I have a very full schedule. I do volunteer work in the local parish,” Josephine said. “The work can be tedious, but those of us who are more fortunate are expected to give our time to help those in need.”

“Do you always wear your hair pulled back so tightly in a bun?” he asked, digging in his bag.

“What does the way I wear my hair have to do with my ailment?” she demanded, shooing Charlotte away as the maid tried to fluff the pillows and make her more comfortable on the bed.

“Everything if you’re suffering from headaches as badly as you claim,” he informed her. “Are you always so high-strung? Your facial expressions indicate you’re suffering from tension. What do you find so worrisome?”

Indignation at his questioning prickled up Josephine’s spine. She clenched her fists and remained silent, looking away from this annoying man she’d met less than five minutes ago. What made him think he could read her so well?

“From the looks of you, I’d wager you wear the latest fashions in women’s undergarments, which isn’t advisable in this climate. Do you also wear your corset as tight as you coif your hair?”

“Well! Is that the way you talk to ladies?” Josephine leaned away as he tried to put a bell-shaped object at the high collar of her dress.

Stopping in mid-examination, the doctor eyed her over his spectacles. “It’s not just talk, Madame, its practicality. There is nothing wrong with you that a little softening of your garments, hair style, and demeanor will not cure.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion. I didn’t ask you to come here. I do, however, ask that you leave at once,” Josephine said, swinging her legs over the side of