The Artist's Healer - Regina Scott Page 0,34
“As is Mr. Denby. And your constable cannot be expected to dance attendance on me.”
“We don’t have a constable at present,” she explained. “He retired, and no one saw the need to replace him. We have few crimes in Grace-by-the-Sea.” She stiffened. “I know, the militia! Mr. Greer will take a dim view of someone troubling our physician.”
He sighed. “Mr. Greer was instrumental in giving me this position, for which I will always be grateful, but I’m not sure the village militia is ready to confront French soldiers, even with one of them injured. Someone else could get hurt.”
“Right.” She raised her chin. “There’s nothing for it, then. We will take the road of last resort. We’ll call an emergency meeting of the Spa Corporation board.”
Chapter Eleven
He had never met a more determined woman. It was surprisingly invigorating.
“You collect Ethan,” she said, starting for the spa door. “I’ll alert Mr. Lawrence. He can send his children to fetch the others.” She glanced at the clock as she passed it. “Meet at the Swan’s private parlor at half past seven?”
Linus hurried to intercept her before she could leave. “I would rather keep you out of this. If anything should happen to you…”
She waited, and he could not make himself say what his heart demanded.
“You could reopen your wound,” he finished lamely.
She cocked her head. “By walking to the jeweler’s and then to the Swan? Doubtful. Besides, I am a member of the Spa Corporation board. You’ll need me there to ensure a quorum. Now, hurry. I’ll walk you as far as the shop to make sure no one else takes off with you.”
It was rather humbling that he needed protection, but he could think of few better. He wouldn’t want to tangle with Abigail Archer on a mission.
“Mr. Ellison and Mr. Bent, the former employment agency owner, generally sided with Mr. Greer,” she explained as they started down the hill. “I don’t know how Mrs. Catchpole, Mr. Bent’s replacement, will vote. This will be her first meeting. Mr. Lawrence and Mrs. Kirby generally make up their own minds. It’s Mr. Greer you’ll have to convince.”
She was right, Linus saw when they all regrouped a short time later. Unsure how long the meeting would go, he’d left Ethan with Abigail’s mother.
The Swan’s private parlor was a paneled room that boasted a large fireplace of pale, rough stones; a brass chandelier; and a long plank table that could seat twenty on its flanking benches. A high-backed chair stood at either end. Mr. Greer went to take up his place at one. He nodded Linus toward the other. Mr. Lawrence; Mr. Ellison, the baker; and a buxom blonde who had introduced herself as Mrs. Catchpole slid onto one of the benches. Abigail and the leasing agent, Mrs. Kirby, took up positions on the other, Abigail as close to him as possible. He tried not to be gratified by the fact.
“Come to order,” Mr. Greer called, though no one had been saying a great deal. As the last voices quieted, he nodded down the table. “First, allow me to welcome you, Doctor Bennett, to your inaugural board meeting, and Mrs. Catchpole as well. I can assure you, we generally give a few days’ notice before calling one.” He regarded Abigail pointedly.
She must have taken that as her cue, for she promptly launched into her reasoning, voice crisp. “An incident occurred this evening that must be brought to your attention. Normally, I’d speak to the magistrate, but he’s out of town. So, I appeal to this august group instead. There are French agents in our midst.”
They all regarded her.
“And?” Mr. Greer prompted.
“And? And!” Abigail sputtered. “And we must capture them.”
A bold statement, but Greer shook his head with a sigh. “Miss Archer, the militia here in Grace-by-the-Sea and the officers of West Creech are aware of the issue. This body can do nothing useful to assist.”
“Even if they threaten our physician?” Abigail demanded
Every one of them stiffened, and all gazes latched onto her.
“Who’d bother our physician?” Mr. Ellison demanded, massive frame quivering. “We didn’t hire him to offer him out to strangers.”
“Highly irregular,” Mr. Lawrence agreed, tugging down on his waistcoat.
Greer alone seemed less incensed about the matter. “How exactly does this threaten Doctor Bennett?” he asked.
Abigail looked to Linus.
Right. It was his turn to present them with the facts. “When I was locking up this evening,” he said, glancing around the table, “I was seized, bound, and carried off by two men to tend a